EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT

FROM INFANCY TO
ADOLESCENCE

Emotional Development from Infancy to Adolescence: Pathways to Emotional Competence

and Emotional Problems offers a chapter-by-chapter introductory survey of all
aspects of emotional development from infancy to adolescence, from delight,
surprise and love to anger, distress and fear. Taking a chronological approach, each
chapter focuses on a specific emotion and covers the theories and research relating
to its development, from infants’ emotional capabilities to the changes in self-
understanding and self-conscious emotions of adolescence.
Hay integrates the approaches of classic developmental differentiation and
differential emotions theory to create a comprehensive textbook with a unique
approach to the subject matter, showcasing a range of research linking emotions
to biological underpinnings and early experiences. This wide-ranging book also
includes coverage of differences in temperament, developmental psychopathology,
emotion regulation and development of emotional understanding and attachment.
It is core reading for students of developmental psychology, health psychology,
child welfare and social work, as well as anyone taking a course on social and
emotional development. It will also be of interest to practitioners working in
educational and clinical psychology and child psychiatry.

Dale F. Hay is Professor Emerita of Developmental Psychology at Cardiff

University. She has led a major longitudinal study to understand the origins of
developmental disorders. She has taught developmental psychology, with special
emphasis on social and emotional development, developmental psychopathology
and developmental research methods.
International Texts in Developmental Psychology
Series editor: Peter K. Smith, Goldsmiths College, University of London, UK

This volume is one of a rapidly developing series in International Texts in

Developmental Psychology, published by Routledge. The books in this series are
selected to be state-of-the-art, high level introductions to major topic areas in
developmental psychology. The series conceives of developmental psychology in
broad terms and covers such areas as social development, cognitive development,
developmental neuropsychology and neuroscience, language development, learning
difficulties, developmental psychopathology and applied issues. Each volume is
written by a specialist (or specialists), combining empirical data and a synthesis
of recent global research to deliver cutting-edge science in a format accessible to
students and researchers alike. The books may be used as textbooks that match on
to upper level developmental psychology modules, but many will also have cross-
disciplinary appeal.
Each volume in the series is published in hardback, paperback and eBook formats.
More information about the series is available on the official website at: https://
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series/DEVP, including details of all the titles published to date.

Published Titles
An Introduction to Mathematical Cognition
Camilla Gilmore, Silke M. Göbel, and Matthew Inglis

Emotional Development from Infancy to Adolescence

Pathways to Emotional Competence and Emotional Problems
Dale F. Hay

For a full list of titles in this series, please visit www.routledge.com

EMOTIONAL
DEVELOPMENT
FROM INFANCY TO
ADOLESCENCE
Pathways to Emotional
Competence and
Emotional Problems

Dale F. Hay
First published 2019
by Routledge
2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN
and by Routledge
52 Vanderbilt Avenue, New York, NY 10017
Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business
© 2019 Dale F. Hay
The right of Dale F. Hay to be identified as author of this work has been
asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright,
Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or
utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now
known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in
any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing
from the publishers.
Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or
registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation
without intent to infringe.
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Hay, Dale F., author.
Title: Emotional development from infancy to adolescence : pathways to
emotional competence and emotional problems / Dale F. Hay.
Description: Abingdon, Oxon ; New York, NY : Routledge, 2019. |
Includes bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018059890 (print) | LCCN 2019002667 (ebook) |
ISBN 9781315849454 (Ebook) | ISBN 9781841691862 (hardback) |
ISBN 9781848720145 (pbk.)
Subjects: LCSH: Emotions in children. | Child psychology.
Classification: LCC BF723.E6 (ebook) | LCC BF723.E6 H379 2019
(print) | DDC 155.4/124—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018059890
ISBN: 978-1-84169-186-2 (hbk)
ISBN: 978-1-84872-014-5 (pbk)
ISBN: 978-1-31584-945-4 (ebk)
Typeset in Bembo
by Apex CoVantage, LLC
 This book is dedicated to the memory of Harriet L. Rheingold,
scholar and teacher, who suggested that I study infants’ happiness.
CONTENTS

Acknowledgementsviii

1 More than a feeling: the study of emotion and its development 1

2 Distress and delight in infancy 12

3 Surprise and disgust 25

4 Fear and anxiety 33

5 Anger: fight vs. flight 53

6 Sadness 70

7 Happiness, joy and elation 77

8 Affection, love and jealousy 82

9 Empathy 91

10 Shame and guilt 106

11 Afterword 118

References122
Index151
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I am very grateful to many colleagues and students who have helped me study chil-
dren’s emotional development, especially within the context of the Cardiff Child
Development Study, which was supported by the Medical Research Council, the
Medical Research Foundation and the Waterloo Foundation. Special thanks go
to Salim Hashmi and Cerith Waters for their comments on the manuscript. I am
grateful to Stephanie van Goozen, Ross Vandewert and Sarah Gerson for supplying
photographs of children’s expressions of emotion.
1
MORE THAN A FEELING
The study of emotion and its development

Trying to define emotion

The aim of this book is to examine the features and possible causes of children’s
emotional development, from infancy to adolescence. Yet what exactly does that
entail? Although most of us know what we’re talking about when we talk about
our own emotions, it is notoriously difficult for psychologists to define the concept
of emotion. The definitions they offer often seem rather abstract. For example, in
their authoritative review of studies of emotional development in the Handbook of
Child Psychology, Saarni, Campos, Camras, and Witherington (2006) proposed the
following ‘working definition of emotion’: ‘Emotion is . . . the person’s attempt or
readiness to establish, maintain, or change the relation between the person and his
or her changing circumstances, on matters of significance to that person’ (p. 227;
quoted from Campos, Frankel, & Camras, 2004). Saarni and her colleagues go on to
distinguish the concept of feeling from the concept of emotion, and argue that what
laypeople refer to as their feelings is not the core of emotion.
It is certainly true that the student of emotional development must study
many different things, beyond an individual’s self-reported feelings. Emotion is
felt and expressed through physiological reactions and physical actions, and inter-
preted through thoughts and words. Nonetheless, there is some danger that, when
acknowledging the complexity of the process of emotional development, we might
lose sight of its distinctive content. Furthermore, the very general definitions are
somewhat circular: How do we determine what is significant to a person without
any indication of an emotional reaction? Therefore, in this book, we shall not dwell
at the outset on definitional complexities. Rather, this book takes an empirical
approach to the study of emotion, by focussing on particular categories of emo-
tions, more or less in the sequence in which they consolidate from infancy to ado-
lescence. We will then return to the vexing definitional issues in the final chapter.
2 The study of emotion and its development

Differentiation theory and its critics

The organisation of the book has been influenced by the classic theory of the
differentiation of emotion offered by Katherine Banham Bridges (1932). Bridges,
who was born in Sheffield, UK in 1897, became the first person to pursue an
honours degree in psychology at Manchester University. After moving to Canada,
she became the first woman to receive a PhD in psychology from the University
of Montreal. Bridges argued that the original emotion experienced by infants is
excitement, which becomes differentiated into interest and distress (Figure 1.1).
On the basis of her observations of 62 infants in a foundling hospital in Montreal,
Bridges argued that:

The earliest emotional reactions are very general and poorly organized
responses to one or two general types of situations. As weeks and months
go by the responses take on more definite form in relation to more specific
situations . . . in the course of genesis of the emotions, there occurs a process
of differentiation. . . . In this manner slowly appear the well known emotions
of anger, disgust, joy, love, and so forth. They are not present at birth in their
mature form.
(p. 324)

The differentiation hypothesis put forth by Bridges was in line with more general
theories of emotion set forth by her contemporaries. For example, Allport (1924)
claimed that ‘At the beginning . . . of the life of feeling there is little to differentiate
the emotional states beyond the mere qualities of pleasantness and unpleasantness.

Birth 3 mos. 6 mos. 12 mos. 18 mos. 24 mos.

For children

Affection For adults

Elation Joy
Excitement Delight

Distress
Jealousy
Anger

Disgust

Fear

FIGURE 1.1 Katherine Banham Bridges’ classic model of emotional development

 The study of emotion and its development 3

The child has feelings of unpleasantness, but not yet definite unpleasant emotions’
(p. 93).
In the pages that follow, I shall draw on the classic scheme presented by Bridges
as an organisational framework for this book. Bridges claimed that the ‘original
emotion’ (p. 325) was excitement (a term that subsequent emotion theorists might
equate with arousal), which soon differentiated into two general tendencies, interest
and distress. According to Bridges, distress then differentiated into the primary nega-
tive emotions (fear, anger, disgust and sadness). Accordingly, we shall first examine
infants’ initial expressions of distress and pleasure (crying and smiling) and then the
primary negative emotions, before proceeding to discuss more complex emotions,
including the so-called moral emotions that emerge later in childhood and are
bound up with the development of a sense of self.
A few decades after Bridges undertook her study of infants, the issue of dif-
ferentiation of emotion over time became a matter of considerable controversy.
Later theorists working within an evolutionary perspective, such as Silvan Tomp-
kins (1963), Paul Ekman (Ekman, Friesen, & Ellsworth, 1972) and Carroll Izard
(1971), disagreed with Bridges’ differentiation theory. They proposed instead the
theory that discrete facial expressions of emotions such as fear, disgust or anger have
been selected for in evolution.They claimed that these expressions of distinct emo-
tions were seen across human cultures and already shown by young infants, even
in the first months of life (e.g., Ekman, 1993; Izard, Huebner, Risser, & Dougherty,
1980). This latter approach became known as the differential emotions theory. A body
of work testing differential emotions theory has focussed on patterns of emotional
expression that could be discerned across ages and cultures.
Over the last few decades, the differential emotions approach set forth by
Ekman, Izard and their colleagues has shaped much research on emotional devel-
opment in infancy. However, in recent years, it has received some criticism. Some
psychologists claim that emotional development does not entail the emergence of
discrete emotions nor entirely undifferentiated ones but rather the consolidation
of different components of emotions over time (e.g., Witherington, Campos, Har-
riger, Bryan, & Margett, 2009). Still other theorists question whether very young
infants can experience emotion at all, because they cannot yet distinguish between
themselves and other people (Sroufe, 1995).
One analysis of children’s understanding of emotion concepts, as measured by
their spontaneous references to different emotions and their performance on dis-
crimination tasks (Widen & Russell, 2008), returned to an updated differentiation
model of emotional development that echoes Bridges’ earlier theoretical framework.
Widen and Russell’s circumplex model features two orthogonal dimensions, one
measuring the degree of a person’s arousal and the other the degree of pleasure/­
displeasure he or she experiences (Figure 1.2). In Widen and Russell’s model,
surprise is an emotion that reflects a high degree of pure arousal. The negative
emotions of fear, anger and disgust also show high arousal, whereas sadness reflects
low arousal. The positive emotion of happiness reflects a moderate level of arousal.
Their empirical analyses of children’s understanding of emotion labels during early
4 The study of emotion and its development

High Arousal

Surprise
Fear

Anger Excitement

Disgust Happiness
Displeasure Pleasure

Sadness Contentment

Low Arousal

FIGURE 1.2 A two-dimensional model of children’s understanding of emotions

Source: Widen & Russell, 2008

childhood also show a gradual differentiation from a basic distinction between

positive and negative emotion to a more nuanced understanding of the differ-
ent negative emotions (Widen & Russell, 2008). Thus, although Bridges theorised
about infants’ observed expressions of emotion, and Widen and Russell focussed on
children’s use of emotion language, both theories point to a gradual differentiation
of negative emotional experience.
My own use of Bridges’ classic account of emotional development as an organ-
ising framework for this book certainly does not imply unqualified acceptance
of this early theory. Although criticisms have been levelled against the theory of
differential emotions in recent years (e.g., Camras & Shutter, 2010), and some ele-
ments of Bridges’ differentiation theory may be worth revisiting, caution is still
needed. Children’s emotions may not differentiate in the exact way that Bridges
proposed, and, if they do, the underlying processes that lead to differentiation may
reflect learning and emotional socialisation, as well as biological maturation. What
is most important, however, is the fact that Bridges’ account was a developmental
theory, resting on the premise that important developmental changes take place in
both the expression and understanding of emotion over infancy and childhood. For
example, children’s abilities to associate felt emotions with bodily sensations show
considerable development between childhood and adulthood (Hietanen, Glerean,
Hari, & Nummenmaa, 2016).
Therefore, because it sets out an explicitly developmental perspective, Bridges’
scheme still provides a useful conceptual framework in which to consider what
 The study of emotion and its development 5

actually happens during emotional development. We shall return to the issue of

developmental processes that underlie emotional development in the final chapter
of this book.

Key dimensions of emotional development

Within and across these different domains of emotional experience, fundamen-
tal questions must be asked about what a child’s emotional development actually
entails. In this book, we shall concentrate attention on three important components
to the development of emotion: the expression of emotion (and its relation to inner
emotional experience), the understanding of emotion (one’s own emotions and those
of other people) and the regulation of emotion. Emotion is regulated both through
internal physiological and cognitive processes and through learning about the social
rules that control displays of emotion in particular families and cultures. Develop-
mental psychologists have provided evidence for change over time and continuity of
individual differences with respect to each of these three components of emotional
development.

The expression of emotion

In humans, emotion is expressed through different channels: the face, the voice,
the hands and the physiological reactions of the body. Ever since Darwin’s (1872)
treatise The Expression of Emotion in Man and Animals was published, emotion
researchers have debated evidence about the universality of human emotion and its
biological basis. Given the prominence of differential emotions theory in the latter
part of the twentieth century, much empirical work has been conducted within the
theoretical framework of evolutionary theory, focussing on specific configurations
of the facial musculature that are associated with primary emotions such as anger or
sadness. These distinct patterns of facial configurations can be discerned across cul-
tures (Ekman, 1972) and identified as early as the first year of life (Field, Woodson,
Greenberg, & Cohen, 1982), which supports claims from the differential emotions
theorists that the morphology of the human face and its underlying muscles has
been selected for in the course of evolution.
Such studies of infants’ facial expressions draw attention to the early origins
of emotion; however, they also raise the theoretical question of whether outward
emotional expressions provide direct evidence for inner emotional experience. For
example, does the child who shows a typical expression of facial anger (Figure 1.3)
experience rage in the same way an adult would? Is the outward expression a veridi-
cal index of inner experience? Or does the facial expression precede a more mature
understanding of anger, which in turn informs the inner experience? Should the
adults who care for the child interpret the expression as being a true indication of
anger, as an adult would understand that, or is it more helpful to consider it a signal
of more global distress?
6 The study of emotion and its development

FIGURE 1.3 Is this child expressing anger?

In the chapters that follow, we shall consider this thorny issue with respect to
the primary negative emotions that emerge from initial distress: disgust, fear, anger
and sadness. Bridges’ theory of a differentiation process is still germane to our
understanding of the emergence and subsequent development of these negative
emotions.

Emotional understanding
In any given situation, how do we know what we’re feeling? On what basis do we
guess what other people are feeling? Emotional experience clearly has a cognitive,
interpretational dimension.

Understanding our own emotions

In a classic account of the nature of emotion (the James-Lange theory), it was
argued that our observation of our own reactions to emotion-provoking situations
tells us what we are actually feeling ( James, 1894). For example, if we are walking
down a deserted street, late at night, hear footsteps behind us, and begin to hurry
along, breaking into a run, it could be argued that we interpret our emotions in
accordance with the physical and physiological reactions of our own bodies. In
other words, if we’re running, we must be afraid.
Although the James-Lange theory was challenged by early neuroscientists (Can-
non, 1927), who demonstrated that animals whose cerebral cortices had been
 The study of emotion and its development 7

removed still expressed emotion, the James-Lange legacy is still felt in more mod-
ern theories that emphasise people’s cognitive construction of their own emo-
tions (e.g., Russell, 2003). However, contemporary emotion theorists must attempt
to reconcile cognitive perspectives on emotion with the findings emerging from
affective neuroscience, in particular, neuroimaging studies of alert human brains.
This new body of evidence draws attention to relations between brain structures
that underlie physiological responses to emotion-provoking stimuli and cognitive
representations of emotional experience.

Understanding other people’s emotions

Human beings pay attention to each other’s emotions from the first days of life
onwards: Even newborn infants are sensitive to each other’s cries (Sagi & Hoffman,
1976). However, infants do not yet possess a theory of mind, i.e., an understanding
that other people have thoughts, feelings and intentions. Understanding that other
people have emotions and desires appears to develop before understanding that
other people have thoughts and beliefs (Wellman & Woolley, 1990), which further
underscores the salience of emotion in infants’ worlds. It has long been thought
that infants’ growing understanding of their own mental life is influenced by their
growing understanding of the mental lives of others, in a reciprocal and dialectical
fashion (Baldwin, 1895), and so the understanding of other people’s emotions may
help children to understand their own.This process is apparent in the phenomenon
of social referencing, which occurs when infants who are confronted with a situation
that could be pleasant or dangerous consult the emotional expressions of their
caregivers before expressing their own emotion; the caregivers’ expressions guide
the infants’ choices to approach or avoid the ambiguous situation (e.g., Campos,
Thein, & Owen, 2003). We shall return to this topic of understanding other peo-
ple’s emotions when discussing the social emotion of empathy for another person’s
feelings in Chapter 9.

Emotion regulation

Physiological regulation
The important organs of our bodies are all involved in the experience and regula-
tion of emotion; when we talk about our emotional reactions to the things that
happen to us, we say that we feel things ‘in the pit of our stomachs’; we may feel
‘breathless,’ or ‘break out into a sweat,’ or feel ‘tears coming to our eyes.’ The expe-
rience of emotion is bound up with these bodily reactions, and the reactions are
regulated by the autonomic nervous system (ANS), the pathways of neural connec-
tions that transmit information from the brain to the visceral organs and back again.
The ANS includes the sympathetic and parasympathetic divisions. It has long been
thought that the sympathetic system mobilises the individual to react to threaten-
ing events, with ‘fight or flight’ (reacting to threat with anger and aggression versus
8 The study of emotion and its development

fear and attempts to escape), whereas the parasympathetic system helps restore calm.
For example, in response to threatening events, the sympathetic system works to
increase heart rate; when threat has passed, the parasympathetic system slows the
heartbeat and restores the individual to a homeostatic balance. Thus, the two sys-
tems have traditionally been seen as working in a reciprocal fashion, serving to
activate and regulate the expression of emotion. More recent research has shown
that sometimes both systems work together, under the control of higher brain pro-
cesses as well as brainstem mechanisms (Berntson & Cacioppo, 2009). The study
of emotional development must include investigation of the development of these
physiological processes that contribute to the expression and regulation of emotion.

Display rules and emotional socialisation

As children grow older, their emotions are regulated by social learning and their
growing understanding of the world. Although discrete facial expressions of
emotion have been identified across culture (Ekman, 1972), there exist cultural
constraints on the circumstances under which emotions are expressed; the cul-
tural norms governing the expression of emotion are referred to as ‘display rules’
(Ekman & Friesen, 1969). Even in early childhood, children learn to mask emotion,
in accordance with the rules of their culture (e.g., Cole, 1986). Within a culture,
emotional socialisation often differs for girls and boys, with different display rules
governing emotional behaviour in the two sexes.

Coping
Clinical psychologists have drawn attention to the issue of regulating one’s emotion
when coping with stress and other adversities (Lazarus & Folkman, 1984), making
a distinction between problem-focussed and emotion-focussed coping strategies. There
is some evidence that problem-focussed attempts to tackle the problem causing
the stress are more effective than emotion-focussed attempts to distract oneself or
improve emotional states through use of substances; however, it is likely that effec-
tive problem-solving also reduces negative emotion, and so there is not always a
clear distinction between problem-focussed and emotion-focussed coping (Folk-
man & Moskowitz, 2000). Much more needs to be learned about the development
of both types of coping strategies in childhood.

Individual differences

The concept of temperament

While many theories of emotional development focus on universals, e.g., the age at
which particular emotional expressions appear, or general trends over time in emo-
tional understanding, important differences amongst individuals can be discerned
 The study of emotion and its development 9

in early infancy: Different infants have different emotional reactions to the world,
and different patterns of emotionality is an important component of individual tem-
perament (Allport, 1924). Different dimensions of human temperament have been
remarked upon since ancient times, when the physician Galen drew attention to
different emotional tendencies (e.g., melancholia), thought to be related to differ-
ent humours of the body. In the twentieth century, developmental psychologists
who were attempting to chart age-related change over time also became aware of
extensive differences amongst infants (e.g., Shirley, 1933). In the 1960s, in reaction
to strong environmental claims about the effects of early child-rearing on infants’
development, some investigators began to document the effects of infants on their
parents (Bell, 1968; Rheingold, 1969) and to note important differences amongst
infants, even in the newborn period (e.g., Birns, 1965). In this context, several dif-
ferent research groups attempted to measure various dimensions of individuality
in infancy, which in turn has led to different approaches to the measurement of
temperament (e.g., Buss & Plomin, 1975; Kagan & Moss, 1962; Thomas, Chess, &
Birch, 1970). Information about temperament is obtained from parents’ reports
(e.g., McDevitt & Carey, 1978; Rothbart, 1986), experimental assessments (e.g.,
Gagne, van Hulle, Aksan, Essex, & Goldsmith, 2011) and psychobiological measures
(e.g., Gunnar & Vazquez, 2000; Porges, Doussard-Roosevelt, & Maiti, 1994). These
different measurement strategies have led to a rich but complex literature; how-
ever, across the different definitions and approaches to measurement, there is clear
evidence for a biological basis to infant temperament. Temperament in infancy is
linked to dimensions of personality in later childhood and adulthood (e.g., Caspi
et al., 2003).

Developmental psychopathology
The studies of temperament document normal variation in emotionality and emo-
tional regulation. However, some children experience emotional problems to such
a degree that they actually meet diagnostic criteria for mental health problems.
Developmental psychopathology refers to the study of such problems, in terms of iden-
tifying the genetic and environmental influences that set children on a path to
psychopathology. It has become clear that adult psychological problems derive from
a combination of genetic risk and adversity in family environments (e.g., Caspi
et al., 2003).What is even more surprising is the fact that clinical conditions such as
depression and anxiety first appear in early childhood (e.g., Egger & Angold, 2006).
Therefore, it is important to examine the development of such clinical disorders
against the background of normal variation in emotional development.
The study of developmental psychopathology relies on a number of different
research methods. What we know about children’s mental health problems, includ-
ing anxiety disorders, largely comes from three types of studies: (1) case studies,
which are detailed qualitative reports on the features of and possible causes of par-
ticular children’s symptoms; (2) clinical studies, in which groups of children who have
10 The study of emotion and its development

been referred for assessment or treatment of mental health problems are contrasted
with children who are free of such problems, or those who are showing symptoms
of a different type of disorder; and (3) community studies, in which an entire popula-
tion of children is assessed with questionnaires and diagnostic interviews for pos-
sible symptoms and disorders, to determine how commonly such disorders occur.
The latter type of study is sometimes referred to as an epidemiological study, because
the method of surveying a large population for the occurrence of particular dis-
eases comes from the large-scale studies of epidemics of infectious illness. Studies of
clinical samples allow for the study of a sufficient number of children with serious
problems, for example, to explore possible causes of their fears and anxiety. Such
clinical samples can also be used to create clinical trials, which test the effectiveness of
particular medical and psychological interventions. In contrast, community studies
produce information about how common the problem is and what factors are asso-
ciated with particular disorders in a large population. All of these methods provide
information that is relevant to the emergence of children’s psychological disorders.
In the chapters that follow, we will chart the course of emotional develop-
ment and the emergence of clinically significant disorders. In each chapter, we
will first focus on developmental trends, then examine individual differences and,
finally, identify clinical conditions such as anxiety, obsessive-compulsive disorder,
oppositional-defiant disorder, depressive disorder and conduct disorder, which
reflect the extreme end of the continuum of individual differences in emotional
experience.

Organisation of the book

In Chapter 2, we begin by examining infants’ first manifestations of emotion, in
terms of infants’ expression of distress and delight. In Chapters 3–7, we then exam-
ine facets of primary emotional experience that follow on from that basic distinc-
tion between positive and negative emotion: surprise and disgust, fear, anger, sadness
and happiness. For each type of emotion, we shall examine evidence for its age of
onset and then examine its developmental course over the childhood years.
In Chapters 8–10, we examine more complex emotions that play an important
role in our relationships with other people, sometimes referred to as social or moral
emotions: love and jealousy, empathy and callousness, and shame and guilt. These
latter emotions are defined not by immediate physiological and behavioural reac-
tions, but rather are informed by knowledge, memory and the interpretation of
other people’s behaviour and mental states.
Finally, in Chapter 11, having investigated the development of each of these dif-
ferent emotions, we return to our primary question: How do emotions develop?
We once again consider the advantages and disadvantages of Bridges’ original
proposal that emotions differentiate over the first years of life, as opposed to the
competing differential emotion theory, which suggests that primary emotions are
already present in infancy. The account of emotional development offered in this
 The study of emotion and its development 11

book will draw upon both nativist and empiricist perspectives on human develop-
ment, as manifested across nearly a century of relevant studies.
Throughout this book, terms relating to a child’s age are defined in accordance
with the scientific literature in developmental psychology. The word ‘infant’ refers
to children under the age of 24 months, with somewhat older children (up to 36
months) often referred to as ‘toddlers.’ Early childhood is the term used for children
between 3 and 5 years (sometimes referred to as ‘preschool children’), and middle
childhood corresponds to the primary school years (approximately 5 to 11 years).
2
DISTRESS AND
DELIGHT IN INFANCY

Under ordinary circumstances, as they move through their daily routines, adults do
not often express strong emotion. At intervals, they experience events that evoke
joy or despair, and they may encounter situations that elicit fear or anger. However,
most mentally healthy adults have acquired strategies of emotion regulation – they
keep their emotions under control.
The same cannot be said of the newborn infant, whose very first act is to cry.
During the early months of life, infants and the adults who care for them are wed-
ded to the infants’ expression of negative emotion – its intensity, its duration, its
rhythmic patterns and its responsiveness to all the attempts adults make to soothe
their crying infants. During the first couple of months after birth, infants move
between states of calm alertness, restlessness and full-blown distress, and their car-
egivers must react accordingly. After a month or two, infants become able to express
positive emotion: They begin to smile, and their caregivers acquire a clearer under-
standing of their infants’ capacity for delight as well as distress (Bridges, 1932).

The development of crying and its regulation

Crying as an expression of emotion: the first social signal

In contrast to other mammals, members of our species are born with reasonably
acute perceptual abilities but limited motor skills. Unlike some young mammals,
they can see and hear, but they cannot voluntarily move away from alarming or
dangerous situations. Nevertheless, because they are born with the ability to cry,
young humans have an inborn ability to draw other people’s attention to their needs
and take any necessary action to provide comfort or help. This ability is of course
not unique to humans – vocal distress calls are given by birds and other mammals.
 Distress and delight in infancy 13

However, perhaps because crying in older children and adults signals deeply felt
emotion, parents and other caregivers typically respond to the newborn’s cry as an
emotional signal, not just as a reflexive act indicating a physical need.The overall time
infants spend crying declines over the course of the first year (Bell & Ainsworth,
1972), and bouts of crying reduce in length (Hubbard & van IJzendoorn, 1991),
perhaps because older infants have developed other ways of expressing their needs.
A meta-analysis of diary studies of crying suggested that the average duration of
crying dropped after the first two months of life (Wolke, Bilgin, & Samara, 2017).
Parents often report that they can distinguish different types of crying, which
help them figure out what exactly their infants need or want, e.g., whether the
infant is hungry, in pain or needs a nappy change. Experimental studies have shown
that parents are better than other people at interpreting their own infants’ cries
(e.g., Sagi, 1981).
Developmental psychologists have sought to identify the precise acoustic fea-
tures of infants’ crying that corresponds to parents’ perceptions of different types of
cries, in particular distinctions between the cry at the time of birth, cries of pain and
hunger cries.The pitch of the infant’s cry, which is measured in terms of the funda-
mental frequency (Fo) of the tones the crying infant is producing, has been the focus
of much attention. High-pitched crying is often perceived as more urgent and also
more annoying to the listener (e.g., Dessereau, Kurowski, & Thompson, 1998; Gus-
tafson & Green, 1989). Adults often perceive high-pitched crying as a sign of infants’
pain, and indeed male infants undergoing circumcision emit very high-pitched cries
(Porter, Miller, & Marshall, 1986), in parallel to facial expressions and physiological
reactions to the stressful event (Lehr, Zeskind, Ofenstein, Cepeda, & Aranda, 2007;
Porter, Porges, & Marshall, 1988). It is not just the average pitch of an infant’s cry
but also variation in pitch (what acoustic scientists term ‘jitter’) that induces adults’
negative perceptions of the cry (Protopapas & Eimas, 1997). Automated systems that
support more systematic analysis of various acoustic properties of infants’ crying can
detect differences between expressions of pain and other types of crying (Sheinkopf,
Lester, & Silverman, 2015). Acoustic patterns that together are referred to as ‘vocal
roughness’ reveal infants’ pain reactions in response to being immunised with two
different vaccines as well as differences between immunisation and the everyday
discomfort experienced when given their baths (Koutseff et al., 2018).
Infants’ cries can be analysed for features other than pitch, and these other
dimensions of crying also influence adults’ perceptions of the cry. Duration of cry-
ing affects adults’ reactions to the sound of infant crying (Dessereau, Kurowski, &
Thompson, 1998; Gustafson & Green, 1989). Infants’ crying is a dynamic process,
showing a rhythmic pattern, with bursts of crying and pauses to take a breath
(Zeskind, Parker-Price, & Barr, 1993). Over the course of a long episode of crying,
punctuated by these bursts and pauses, the acoustic properties of the cry changes, as
infants become more or less aroused (Green, Gustafson, & McGhie, 1998). Experi-
mentally manipulated increases in the length of infant’s bursts of crying (and com-
parable reduction of the pauses in between cries) makes adults perceive the cry as
14 Distress and delight in infancy

more annoying but also more important and informative (Zeskind, Klein, & Mar-
shall, 1992). These experimental studies demonstrate that the properties of human
infants’ cries affect many adult participants, not just experienced parents, although
parents and other adults may be sensitive to different dimensions of infants’ cries
(Irwin, 2003).

Individual differences in the quality of infants’ cries

No two infants are exactly alike, and despite the common features of crying, differ-
ent infants cry in different ways, and thus send different signals to their caregivers.
Indeed, the particular features of an infant’s cry is one of the first signs of individu-
ality. By one month after childbirth, when they listen to audiotapes of different
infants’ cries, parents can recognise their own infants (Green & Gustafson, 1983).
A number of dimensions contribute to variability in infants’ crying patterns, which
together provide a distinctive ‘cry signature’ for an individual infant (Gustafson,
Sanborn, Lin, & Green, 2017).
Some investigators have claimed that infants growing up in different language
environments cry in different ways; for example, acoustic differences have been
reported for the cries of newborn infants who were being cared for by French-
speakers vs. German-speakers (Mampe, Friederici, Christophe, & Wermke, 2009).
However, in a comparison of infants who were growing up in English-speaking
or Mandarin Chinese-speaking language environments, group differences were no
longer significant when the individual newborns’ ‘cry signatures’ were taken into
account (Gustafson et al., 2017).

Colic
Some infants cry much more than others, which poses challenges for their caregiv-
ers. Persistent, paroxysmal crying for more than three hours a day, three or more
days a week, is characterised as ‘infant colic,’ which is often attributed to gastrointes-
tinal distress. The causes of colic are still not completely known, although it is now
thought to originate in dysregulation of the ‘microbiota-gut-brain axis’ (Partty &
Kalliomaki, 2017, p. 529). A recent randomised control trial, in which the mode of
feeding the infants (by breast or bottle) was taken into account, revealed that colic
was associated with inflammation of the gut (Rhoads, Collins, Fatheree, Hashmi,
Taylor, et al., 2018).
The sustained bouts of crying in ‘colicky’ infants are perceived as more intense
and urgent, and do not easily abate in response to care. A recent systematic review
of studies of infants’ crying and the prevalence of colic concluded that cases diag-
nosed with colic were at the extreme end of the distribution of time spent crying
(Wolke et al., 2017). However, the unpredictability and unsoothability of infants’
cries may be more indicative of colic than the length of crying per se (St James
Roberts, Conroy, & Wilsher, 1996).
 Distress and delight in infancy 15

There is disagreement about whether infants diagnosed with colic cry in distinct
ways. Some argue that the crying associated with colic does not have distinctive
acoustic features, being distinct in its resistance to soothing rather than in pitch or
duration of the cries (St James Roberts, 1999). Other work suggests that colicky
infants’ crying after an evening feed shows higher pitch and longer bursts of crying
(Zeskind & Barr, 1997).

Developmental and medical problems

Infants who have experienced medical complications and illness may take longer
to cry and when they do cry, may produce very high-pitched cries (Shinya, Kawai,
Niwa, & Myowa-Yamakoshi, 2014). Preterm infants’ cries differ from those emit-
ted by full-term babies (Goberman & Robb, 1999). A recent computerised analysis
of acoustic features of the cries of preterm infants identified ten key parameters
that distinguished the preterm group from other infants, including but extend-
ing beyond the fundamental frequency of the cry (Orlandi, Garcia, Bandini,
Donzelli, & Manfredi, 2016). The features of infants’ crying predict later devel-
opmental outcomes for infants who are born prematurely (Lester, 1987), which
suggests that the acoustic features of crying may provide a measure of the integrat-
ing of the developing nervous systems of preterm infants (e.g., Grauel, Hock, &
Rothganger, 1990).
There are some indications that infants who will later show atypical neurode-
velopment may cry in ways that differ from typically developing infants. Lon-
gitudinal studies have shown that, as infants get older, their cries become less
high-pitched; analysis of home videos suggests that this decline in high-pitched
crying is not evident in infants who go on to be diagnosed with autism, whose
cries are perceived as more distressing (Esposito & Venuti, 2010; Esposito, Naka-
zawa, Venuti, & Bornstein, 2012). Acoustic analyses have identified some differ-
ences in the cry signatures of infants who are at risk for autism. For example, in
a study of the younger siblings of children already diagnosed with autism, the
infants with autistic siblings showed higher-pitched cries in response to pain than
those shown by infants in the comparison group (Sheinkopf, Iverson, Rinaldi, &
Lester, 2012).
It is not just the pitch or duration of crying but also infants’ readiness to cry
that may indicate medical problems. Infants who take a long time to cry may show
other biological problems, such as poor startle reflexes, that suggest their nervous
systems are compromised (Zeskind, Marshall, & Goff, 1996).

Prenatal experiences
Individual differences in the extent and pattern of crying in infancy may be influ-
enced by the infants’ experiences prior to birth. For example, mothers’ anxiety and
depression prior to birth predict infants’ distress in response to novel situations after
16 Distress and delight in infancy

birth (Davis et al., 2004). Mothers’ anxious and depressed feelings during preg-
nancy are linked to her production of the stress hormone cortisol, which can cross
the placenta and influence her child’s own stress response (Talge, Neal, & Glover,
2007). Infants whose mothers produced more cortisol during the pregnancy were
more likely to cry during the first five months after birth (de Weerth, van Hees, &
Buitelaar, 2003).
The substances mothers use during pregnancy may also have an impact on their
infants’ crying. Infants’ crying is influenced by the mothers’ use of alcohol (Zes-
kind et al., 1996) and cocaine (Beeghly, Frank, Rose-Jacobs, Cabral, & Tronick,
2003). Infants exposed to alcohol and cocaine in pregnancy may cry less than other
infants, i.e., are less able to signal their distress to adult caregivers. In contrast, infants
exposed to tobacco in utero are reported to show excessive levels of crying (Reijn-
eveld, Lanting, Crone, & van Wouwe, 2005).

Irritable temperament
The concept of ‘colic’ usually refers to a tendency that infants are expected to grow
out of; however, some infants show a tendency to become distressed in response
to new situations, or in response to frustration, that appears to consolidate into
a general way of dealing with the world. Infants who become distressed easily
were initially described as showing ‘difficult temperament’ (Thomas et al., 1970;
Bates & Bayles, 1984) or ‘irritability’ (Lemery, Essex, & Smider, 2002), a tendency
that endures over time from infancy to childhood (e.g., Gartstein & Rothbart,
2003). Prenatal factors, such as exposure to the hormone cortisol, influence infants’
irritability, although the nature of the effect may depend on the infant’s gender
(Braithwaite et al., 2017).
Infants with irritable temperament are thought to be at risk for later emotional
and behavioural problems, although the evidence for this is mixed; irritability in
early childhood, as opposed to infancy, is a more robust predictor of later problems
(Leibenluft & Stoddard, 2013). Even during the period of infancy itself, such irri-
table infants pose particular challenges for their parents.

Parents’ responses to infants’ crying

In general, infants’ behaviour has strong effects on their parents and other caregiv-
ers; in the same way that parents influence their children, so infants’ behaviours help
teach their parents how to care for them properly (Rheingold, 1969). Infants’ cries
affect parents’ behaviour and also the reactions of their brains (e.g., Feldman, 2015).
Experimental studies have demonstrated that the readiness with which adults try to
provide care for a crying infant depends on the acoustic features of the cry, but also
on contextual information, such as whether the infant is in need of a nap (Wood &
Gustafson, 2001); adults’ decisions to offer care also depend on the duration of the
cry (Zeifman, 2004).
 Distress and delight in infancy 17

Do infants try deliberately to manipulate

their caregivers’ responses?
When does crying become an intentional signal, a means by which infants can
deliberately communicate with their parents and other caregivers? Longitudi-
nal studies suggest that, over the course of the first year of life, infants’ reflexive
crying transforms into more intentional vocalisations. For example, one study of
four infants over the course of the first year showed that the infants’ ‘hunger cries’
increased in pitch as the infants grew older, which may be evidence for older
infants’ modulating their signals to get a response from caregivers.
Some parents believe that infants cry intentionally, in order to seek attention
from their parents. In the 1970s, this issue was a subject of vigorous debate between
a learning theorist, Jacob Gewirtz, who argued that crying was a learned response,
reinforced by parents’ attentive responses, and an ethological attachment theorist,
Mary Ainsworth, who argued that sensitive responsiveness to infants’ crying actually
led to less distress as infants grew older (Bell & Ainsworth, 1972; Gewirtz & Boyd,
1977). The debate centres on whether it is best for parents to ignore their infants’
cries, so as not to reward the baby for crying for attention. In a classic longitudinal
study of 26 infants, observed repeatedly over the first year of life, Bell and Ainsworth
measured the extent to which mothers ignored or responded to their infants’ cries
and other milder forms of expressing distress, by fussing or whingeing. They found
that the more mothers ignored their infants’ cries in early infancy, the more infants
were likely to cry later on. In other words, if parents ignored crying, its frequency
went up, not down. More recent research in a large sample of infants confirmed and
extended Ainsworth’s claims, showing that parents’ sensitivity when their infants
were distressed appeared to reduce the infants’ risk for developing behavioural
problems (Leerkes, Blankson, & O’Brien, 2009). Furthermore, in that sample, even
when infants had more irritable temperament, parents’ sensitive responses to their
distress led to fewer instances of distressed emotion in early childhood.
The implications of this line of research is that parents who fail to respond to
infants’ distress because they do not want to reward crying may actually be faced
with more, not less crying in the future. It seems best for parents to treat cry-
ing as a communicative signal, not a simple operant behaviour that can easily be
extinguished.

Smiling and laughing

Infants’ crying is without doubt an important signal to their caregivers, but their
abilities to express positive emotion are equally important. In contrast to crying,
which may upset or annoy parents, as they try to figure out what the infants want or
need, infants’ smiling and laughter are gratifying to their parents and to other people
as well, particularly in mid-infancy when it becomes clear that smiling is a social sig-
nal that acknowledges the infants’ own pleasure when interacting with other people.
18 Distress and delight in infancy

Smiling

The development of the ability to smile

The physical ability to smile is present in the full-term neonate, months before
smiling can be safely interpreted as an intentional social signal. Emotion research-
ers who study the musculature of the human face have distinguished two main
types of smiles: simple smiles with the lips only versus facial expressions known as
Duchenne smiling, which involve the muscles of the cheeks and eyes as well as the
lips (Figure 2.1). By 10 months of age, the two types of smiles are associated with
different patterns of brain activity (Fox & Davidson, 1988). The extent to which
infants produce each type of smile is also associated with cultural factors (e.g.,
Camras et al., 1998).
Both types of smiles can be seen in newborns, when they are asleep as well
as awake; smiling is especially likely to occur during active sleep with rapid eye
movements (Dondi et al., 2007). It is generally agreed that newborn infants’ smiles
reflect inborn tendencies, not imitation of adults’ facial expressions; even congeni-
tally blind infants produce such smiles (e.g., Freedman, 1964; Troster & Brambring,
1992). However, infants do smile in response to social input, even shortly after
birth. For example, in a study of newborn infants’ responses to contingent and
non-contingent stimulation (Cecchini et al., 2013), adults gave the infants their
fingers to hold and responded contingently to the infants’ own hand movements,

FIGURE 2.1 A toddler’s wide-eyed, smiling face

 Distress and delight in infancy 19

by gently squeezing back. In other conditions, adults did not respond to the infants’
movements or did not engage in sustained contact with them. The infants were
likely to smile and less likely to cry when the adults responded contingently over
a period of time.

Smiling in the context of social interaction

The social nature of infants’ smiling

Over the first months of life, the early reflexive smiling of infants becomes more
social and intentional and more responsive to their social environments. Young
infants’ smiles are responsive to rewards and reinforcement schedules (Brackbill,
1958); for example, in one study, infants smiled more when they were rewarded
by being picked up (Brossard & Decarie, 1968). The frequency of infants’ smiling
increases slightly over the first 2 months of life, while other forms of positive social
behaviour become more common (Murray et al., 2016).
Infants are interested in other people’s smiles. By 4 months of age, infants can
detect differences in adults’ expressions of positive and negative emotion (Mon-
tague & Walker-Andrews, 2001). In an experiment conducted in their own homes,
infants looked longer at photographs in which people smiled broadly than they did
at photographs with neutral facial expressions or slight smiles (Kuchuk,Vibbert, &
Bornstein, 1986). In that study, infants’ preferences for broad smiles were associated
with their own experiences of social interaction, which in turn suggests that smiling
is an important social signal for both infants and their parents. Subsequent research
suggests that infants’ preference for smiling over other types of facial expression is
particularly marked when they are looking at female faces, especially when they
have the experience of being most often cared for by a woman (Bayet et al., 2015).
The infant’s ability to smile is an important component of social interactions
between infant and caregiver, when each partner’s behaviour is directly related to
the other’s, producing a sequence of interaction that is like a nonverbal dialogue.
Such behavioural contingencies between mother and infant can be discerned shortly
after birth, when the newborn infant is being fed (e.g., Kaye & Wells, 1980), but
the study of somewhat older infants’ smiling in response to parents’ smiles (and vice
versa) reveals the development of a capacity to share positive emotions with other
people. A comparison of mothers and 2- to 3-month-old infants in Germany with
those in Cameroon showed that this type of reciprocal smiling between mother and
infant is present across cultures (Wormann, Holodynski, Kartner, & Keller, 2012).
When analysing such contingent interactions between infants and parents,
researchers calculate conditional probabilities, i.e., the chance that an infant will smile,
given that the parent has just smiled, or vice versa. In the course of such interac-
tions, which emerge by 8 weeks of age (Symons & Moran, 1994), infants learn
to respond to their parents’ smiles and also become aware when the parents have
responded to their own smiles. Such structured, contingent interactions that parents
20 Distress and delight in infancy

engage in with their infants often take on the feel of a playful game, generating the
positive affect that produces smiles (e.g., Watson, 1972). Exchanges of smiles are
underpinned by consistency in both parents’ and infants’ facial expressions, as well
as their influence on each other (Beebe et al., 2016).
However, interaction between parents and infants is not always perfectly syn-
chronised. If the parent’s response does not occur immediately (e.g., within a few
seconds of the infant’s signal), then the infant may not detect any connection
between the two events. The general level of contingency in infants’ interactions
with their parents influences their reactions to new people. In one study, infants
smiled more often at their mothers than at unfamiliar people, but they were most
likely to respond positively to new people whose responsiveness was at about the
same level as their mothers’ contingent responding (Bigelow, 1998). These findings
suggest that infants’ ability to use smiling as a general form of communication with
other people is shaped by their particular social experiences.

Recognising other people’s smiles

By the middle of the first year of life, infants can tell the difference between smiles
and other types of facial expression. For example, in a study of 7-month-olds (Kes-
tenbaum & Nelson, 1990), the infants demonstrated the ability to distinguish smil-
ing faces from ones that were showing anger or a neutral expression. However, they
were less able to do so when the faces were shown to them upside-down. Infants
who were able to recognise smiling faces in photographs were also likely to show
signs of approach, gesturing and moving toward the pictures; infants who were
shown angry faces were rather more likely to shrink away from those photographs
(Serrano, Iglesias, & Loeches, 1995). By 5 months of age, infants taking part in a
habituation study showed sensitivity to differences in the intensity of smiles across
photographs of the same person, while also showing discrimination of familiar and
novel faces and of smiles versus fearful expressions (Bornstein & Arterberry, 2003).

When do infants’ smiles become intentional forms

of communication?
Although it is possible to detect contingency in smiling in the course of early
parent-infant interaction, mothers may smile, even when their infants have not
just smiled, whereas infants may not smile, just because their mothers have smiled
at them (Symons & Moran, 1994). The intentionality of infants’ communications
is easier to detect a few months later, when they can crawl or walk some distance
away from the people who are looking after them and when their interactions
with parents often involve a topic beyond gazing at each other’s faces (Bakeman &
Adamson, 1986). For example, when infants are enjoying playing with a toy at some
distance from their parents, they often begin to smile to themselves, then turn their
faces toward their parents to share their pleasure. Such anticipatory smiling to parents
 Distress and delight in infancy 21

and to other people is related to the infants’ understanding of cause and effect
( Jones & Hong, 2001;Venezia, Messinger, Thorp, & Mundy, 2004), which suggests
that, by this age, infants have become aware that their smiles will produce certain
effects on others. Infants smile most often when they are in the presence of atten-
tive people, both their parents and other individuals ( Jones, Collins, & Hong, 1991).

Parents’ responsiveness to their infants’ smiles

As we have seen, parents may differ in the extent to which they respond to their
infants’ smiles (Bigelow, 1998). Findings from a brain imaging study suggested
that mothers perceive their own infants’ smiling (but not sad) faces as reward-
ing; presentation of photographs of happy infants was associated with activation
of dopaminergic brain regions associated with processing of rewards (Strathearn,
Li, Fonagy, & Montague, 2008). In an experimental study (Mizugaki, Maehara,
Okanoya, & Myowa-Yamakoshi, 2015), first-time mothers watched videos of their
own infants, which had been recorded one week earlier. All mothers watched a clip
of their infants crying. In one condition, the next clip showed the infant smiling
and in the other, the clip showed the infant’s calm, neutral face; the mothers’ stress-
ful reactions (as measured by their skin conductance) were recorded in response
to the crying segments and in each follow-up condition. The mothers showed
elevated skin conductance in response to the videos of their infants crying, and
that reduced more when they next saw their infants smiling, as opposed to show-
ing neutral affect.
There is individual variability in parents’ responsiveness to infants’ smiling, linked
to characteristics of both infants and parents. For example, one study indicated that
parents with a history of child maltreatment showed a physiological stress response
in reaction to infants’ crying but also in response to infants’ smiles (Frodi & Lamb,
1980). However, a meta-analysis of such studies suggested that links between mal-
treatment and parents’ stress responses were not so striking in subsequent research
(Reijman et al., 2016).

Laughing
Infants’ ability to laugh appears to emerge somewhat later than their ability to
smile, although some vocalisations that sound like laughs have been reported in
the second month of life (Rothbart, 1973). By 4 months of age, however, infants
clearly engage in laughter, and their companions try to do things that make babies
laugh. In such situations, it is possible that the infant’s laughter is actually evoked
by the parent’s own laughing while trying to be silly. In a short-term longitudinal
study of infants observed at 5, 6 and 7 months of age, parents were asked to alter-
nate laughing or expressing neutral emotion while clowning around with their
infants (Mireault et al., 2015). The parents were asked to blow ‘raspberries’ toward
their infants; observers checked that the parents really did not laugh in the neutral
22 Distress and delight in infancy

condition. The infants’ tendencies to laugh increased with age, and as they grew
older, they were more likely to laugh if their parents were also laughing.

The relationship between laughter and arousal

Just as there are different types of smiles, so there are different types of laughs, and
not all of them express positive emotion. People sometimes laugh when they are
faced with things they do not comprehend or in social situations where they are
not necessarily comfortable.The cognitive theorist Berlyne (1960) discussed laugh-
ter and humour more generally in relation to the state of psychological arousal, and
noted that the relationship between laugher and arousal is evident in infancy:

During the first year of life, inexhaustible giggling and chuckling can be
occasioned by stimuli that are slightly and briefly startling or frightening:
tossing the infant into the air and catching him, making sudden noises or
movements, and, above all, the peekaboo game or hiding and reappearing.
Later comes an appreciation of incongruity, e.g., the sight of an adult with
something strange on his head.
(Berlyne, 1960, p. 258)

Further evidence on the things that make babies laugh was provided by two
cross-sectional and one longitudinal study of infants in the first year of life (Sroufe &
Wunsch, 1972). Experimenters enacted 30 different behaviours, categorised as social,
visual, tactile and auditory, and the infants’ responses were recorded. Older infants
laughed more frequently and laughed at different things.The youngest infants were
most likely to laugh when experimenters kissed their stomachs or proclaimed ‘I’m
going to get you!’ These behaviours continued to amuse 12-month-olds, who
also laughed when the experimenters covered their faces or stuck out their own
tongues (Sroufe & Wunsch, 1972). By 6 months of age, infants’ laughter in response
to games like peek-a-boo is bound up with their cognitive expectations; deviation
from prior expectations may not necessarily lead to laughter at this age (Parrott &
Gleitman, 1989).
When infants are aroused, it is very easy for laughter to turn into tears. Adults’
attempts to amuse infants might provoke laughter or elicit crying. The tempera-
ment theorist Mary Rothbart (1973) set out a model that describes the likelihood
that potentially arousing stimuli – those that are intense, sudden, or in some way
discrepant from the infant’s expectations – are interpreted as dangerous or harm-
less and, if harmless, amusing. The infant would need to be aroused sufficiently for
laughter as opposed to mere smiling to occur, but not so aroused to cry or shrink
back in fear. Support for Rothbart’s model was found in a condition that compared
potentially laugh-provoking behaviours, delivered by parents or unfamiliar people,
when infants were more or less aroused; at high levels of arousal, infants were more
likely to laugh if the behaviours were displayed by their parents, not by people they
had not met before (Macdonald & Silverman, 1978). There appears to be a fine
 Distress and delight in infancy 23

balance between being aroused enough to find things funny and being so aroused
that it is impossible to laugh.

Laughter, temperament and physiology

The extent to which infants express positive emotion, i.e., laugh and smile, has been
described as a dimension of individual temperament, reported reliably by parents
and other informants (e.g., Gartstein & Rothbart, 2003). Infants’ temperamental
smiling and laughter is related to more adaptive processing of novel experiences, as
measured by brain evoked potential responses to pictures of faces and expression of
the stress hormone cortisol (Gunnar & Nelson, 1994).

Laughter as an element of infants’ social interactions

Just as the infant’s ability to smile contributes to interactions with parents and other
people, so laughter on the part of infants and their parents plays a role in early
interactions. Parents may deliberately tease infants to elicit laughter; there is some
evidence that infants may vary their behaviour to obtain laughter from their parents
(Reddy, 2001).
In an intensive longitudinal study of infants observed weekly throughout the
first year of life and biweekly thereafter, infants laughed more often and for longer
periods of time as they grew older, and they became less likely to laugh on their
own and more likely to laugh while interacting with their mothers (Nwokah,
Hsu, Dobrowolska, & Fogel, 1994). In that study, infants’ laughter often triggered
mothers’ laughter, leading to periods of simultaneous laughter. Infants’ laughter
in response to peek-a-boo is associated with mothers’ own expression of positive
emotion during the game (Dawson et al., 1992). Longitudinal observations reveal
that as infants grow older, mothers change the nature of their games to incorporate
actions or events that might promote infants’ amusement (Mireault et al., 2012).
Infants also laugh when interacting with less familiar people, particularly in the
context of social games involving mutual engagement, repetition and alternation
of turns. For example, in one study where a social game had been established and
the experimenter disrupted the game by failing to take a turn, the infants stopped
laughing and instead behaved in ways that might induce the experimenter to con-
tinue with the game (Ross & Lollis, 1987).

Smiling and laughing in children with developmental

disorders
Children who are developmentally delayed in general may be slower to develop
the abilities to smile and laugh, compared to typically developing children (Kopp,
Baker, & Brown, 1992). For example, a study of young children with Down syn-
drome revealed that the developmental sequence with which they found things
funny was the same as that shown by typically developing children, but delayed by
24 Distress and delight in infancy

several months (Cicchetti & Sroufe, 1976). In samples of children who are experi-
encing some developmental delay, the age at which children develop the ability to
laugh is a good predictor of their subsequent functioning. For example, infants with
Down syndrome who first began to laugh before the age of 10 months showed
higher levels of symbolic play as toddlers (Motti, Cicchetti, & Sroufe, 1983).
Recent studies designed to look at early predictors of Autism Spectrum Dis-
order (ASD) often compare the younger siblings of children with diagnosed ASD
and comparison children; in longitudinal designs, it is also possible to compare the
younger siblings of children with ASD who go on to experience the disorder with
those younger siblings who do not go on to meet criteria for the disorder. In one
such study (Filliter et al., 2015), those infant siblings who went on to develop ASD
had shown a lower rate of smiling at 12 months of age than infants in the other
groups. In a similar study, in which infants’ laughter was measured within a broader
category of non-speech sounds, infant siblings at risk for ASD were more likely to
produce such vocalisations, but that category included sounds of distress as well as
laughter (Paul, Fuerst, Ramsay, Chawarska, & Klin, 2011).

Summary
Infants’ abilities to signal both negative and positive emotions, by crying versus
smiling and laughing, develop over the first half of the first year of life and are
subsequently refined in interactions with their caregivers. Infants’ expressions of
emotion are underpinned by biological and cognitive processes. Early crying, smil-
ing and laughing represent important dimensions of individuality, contributing to
individual temperament and, eventually, personality. In the next chapters, we move
beyond early infancy and focus on developmental change and individual continuity
in the experience, expression and understanding of different types of positive and
negative emotion.
3
SURPRISE AND DISGUST

Knowledge, expectations and emotion

The studies of infants’ distress and delight show how infants respond to their
immediate circumstances with positive, negative or neutral affect. However, infants’
emotional reactions to situations and events soon come to reflect what they have
already learned about the world. In infancy, children acquire an understanding of
their familiar environments and respond in different ways to unfamiliar events –
­sometimes with interest, other times with apprehension. As they interact with both
the social and the non-social world, infants begin to have expectations of what
things should be like (e.g., Stahl & Feigenson, 2015), and the violation of those
expectations may provoke two distinct types of emotion: surprise and disgust.
Surprise and disgust are each considered to be a primary emotion, accompanied
by very distinct patterns of facial expression. It is important to note, however, that
both of these emotions are not simply responses to immediate circumstances but
rather are dependent on the capacity for memory, the growth of knowledge and
the infants’ abilities to compare their current experience with their expectations.
As infants come to know more about the worlds they inhabit, their expectations
will change. Nonetheless, even as children grow older, they are still capable of being
surprised, and some experiences will provoke disgust.

Surprise
As we have seen in Chapter 1, surprise is an emotion that indicates high arousal,
as noted in the circumplex model of different emotions presented by Widen and
Russell (2008). Thus, infants experience surprise at the physiological level, as well
as expressing it in their faces and voices.
26 Surprise and disgust

Facial expressions of surprise in infancy

Investigators who study facial expressions have pointed to some key indicators of
surprise in adults’ and children’s faces: raised eyebrows, wide eyes and sometimes
an open mouth (see Figure 3.1). These movements of the face are apparent in early
infancy and identified reliably by adult observers (Oster, Hegley, & Nagel, 1992).
They are also observed in response to situations designed to violate expectations
and thus induce surprise, e.g., experimental procedures in a study of infants that
led to a toy being switched or vanished entirely (Hiatt, Campos, & Emde, 1979).
However, experiments designed to create a surprise do not always actually elicit
such facial expressions (e.g., Scherer, Zentner, & Stern, 2004). Rather, when their
expectations are violated, infants may simply continue to watch what is going on or
freeze in response to the unexpected event (Scherer et al., 2004). Furthermore, there
may be cultural variation in the individual components of the surprised expression,
such as raising the eyebrows (Camras et al., 1998). Even if infants’ facial expressions do
not express surprise in the stereotypical way, however, electroencephalogram (EEG)

FIGURE 3.1 Some components of the facial expression of surprise

 Surprise and disgust 27

recordings reveal that the infants’ brains are reacting to unexpected events (Kouider
et al., 2015).

Recognising other people’s expressions of surprise

Children only gradually acquire the ability to recognise surprise. For example, a
study of children’s discrimination of different facial expressions of emotion (Gao &
Maurer, 2010) asked the participants to sort pictures of faces showing different
emotions by placing the pictures into different houses (each house being associated
with a different primary emotion). The findings from that experiment showed that
intense surprise was more easily discriminated from other types of emotion than
were mild expressions of surprise (see Figure 3.2 for a comparison of surprised
faces at different levels of intensity). However, that experiment also showed that
in general, 5-year-old children were less likely than older children and adults to
discriminate surprise, even at high intensity levels.
The ability to recognise expressions of surprise appears to develop gradually
between early childhood and adulthood (Herba & Phillips, 2004; Widen, 2013).
Younger children are more likely than older children to confuse expressions of
surprise and fear (Rodger,Vizioli, Ouyang, & Caldara, 2015).
Children can detect emotion in people’s voices as well as their facial expressions.
As they grow older, children become better able to tell when other people are sur-
prised, based on the nonverbal sounds they make and the inflections in their speech
(Sauter, Panattoni, & Happe, 2013).

Children’s understanding of the context of surprising events

Children’s understanding of the contexts in which people might become surprised
has been explored through the use of narratives about story characters and unex-
pected events. For example, in one study, 3-year-old children were told a story
about a child who went to get a toothbrush and instead found an elephant in
the bathroom (Wellman & Banerjee, 1991). This work suggests that children’s

FIGURE 3.2 Varying intensity of surprise in experiment on identification of emotion

Source: Gao & Maurer (2010)
28 Surprise and disgust

understanding of the situations that surprise other people depends on the children’s
understanding of people’s beliefs and therefore the violation of prior expectations.
Put the other way around, children’s understanding of surprise relates to their
understanding that people can have false beliefs, and thereby provides a measure of
their theory of mind skills.This has led to the development of measures of children’s
understanding of false belief that present stories about nice versus nasty surprises
(e.g., Hughes et al., 2005).

Disgust
Surprise has traditionally been seen as a neutral or possibly positive emotion
(e.g., Hiatt et al., 1979). In contrast, disgust has long been recognised as a fun-
damental negative emotion. Allport (1924) described disgust as one of the basic
emotions characterised by unpleasant feelings, and noted that it was similar to
pain in being a ‘relatively simple condition’ (p. 86), perhaps because of the cru-
cial role of disgust as well as pain in preventing injury and death. The survival
advantages associated with feelings of disgust are seen in relation to its role in
encouraging people to avoid contaminated food (Rozin, Fallon, & Augustoni-
Ziskind, 1985) and to stay away from individuals with contagious illness (Curtis,
De Barra, & Aunger, 2011). Many of the stimuli that most commonly elicit
feelings of disgust are also likely to transmit disease (Oaten, Stevenson, & Case,
2009).

Early signs of disgust

In the emotion differentiation theory proposed by Bridges (1932), disgust was
thought to emerge gradually over the first six months of life, differentiating from
general distress along with fear and anger. In contrast, the differential emotions
theorists have claimed that distinct signs of disgust can be identified in quite young
infants (e.g., Ekman, 1993; Izard, 1994).
In adults, disgust is considered to be a basic emotion that is expressed via dis-
tinct muscle movements. The prototypical ‘disgust face’ in adults is characterised by
wrinkling of the nose and raising of the upper lip, which further wrinkles the nose
(Ekman & Friesen, 1978; see Figure 3.3). Perhaps because of the obvious differ-
ence in the length of adult and infant noses, the expression of disgust appears to be
somewhat harder to identify in young infants.
Within the perspective of differential emotions theory, Izard and colleagues
(1980) undertook a systematic investigation of observers’ detection of 1- to
9-month-old infants’ expressions of emotions, including disgust; they used differ-
ent techniques to analyse video records of the infants in a number of pleasant and
unpleasant situations. Initially, disgust was recorded less accurately than some other
emotions. However, in that study, training observers in the recognition of particular
muscle movements in the face improved accuracy.
 Surprise and disgust 29

FIGURE 3.3 Signs of disgust in an adult’s face

Subsequently, Izard and colleagues conducted a longitudinal study of the facial

expressions shown by infants between 2.5 and 9 months of age, in relation to
two different contexts for mother-infant interaction (summarised in Izard, 1994);
infants showed distinct facial expressions of anger and sadness in that sample from
an early age and stability in the way they expressed those emotions over time. Dis-
crete expressions of disgust were also observed but did not occur often enough to
permit statistical analysis.
In the literature on infants’ expressions of emotion, different researchers have
used different observational coding systems, such as the Maximally Discrimina-
tive Facial Movement Coding System (MAX; Izard, 1983) and the Facial Action
Coding System (FACS; Ekman & Friesen, 1978). There appears to be some lack
of concordance in identifying expressions of disgust, depending on which system
is being used and whether an adult or infant version is being deployed (Camras &
Shutter, 2010). For emotions that occur less often, such as disgust, this discrepancy
in coding definitions could lead to inconsistent results across studies.
One approach to the study of disgust has been to provide infants with different
tastes and observe how they react. One such study provided evidence for some
expressions of disgust soon after birth. Newborn infants were presented with water,
either plain, sweetened with sucrose or made sour with citric acid (Fox & Davidson,
1986). The newborns made expressions of disgust (as coded using the MAX sys-
tem) in response to both plain water and the sour taste of the citric acid. Moreover,
30 Surprise and disgust

EEG analysis showed that the different tastes evoked different patterns of brain
response. Infants’ negative reactions to bitter tastes increase in the months after the
newborn period (Kajiurwa, Cowart, & Beauchamp, 1992).
More recent work on infants’ expressions of disgust has suggested that, even
when observers are not just making subjective judgements but actually coding
muscle movements, it may be difficult to apply adult criteria for disgust to infant
faces. Even adult observers may interpret elements of the ‘disgust face’ shown by
infants as general, undifferentiated distress or as a blend of different negative emo-
tions (Oster et al., 1992).
As children grow older, they communicate their experiences of disgust with
words and expressive vocal sounds, such as ‘Eugh!’ or ‘Yuck!’, as well as with their
faces. Such vocal signs of disgust may often be made in response to disliked food.
For example, in a study of video records of family mealtimes, such expressions of
disgust occurred at least once an hour in observations of children between 1 and
4 years of age (Wiggins, 2013).

Children’s recognition of other people’s expressions of disgust

In evolutionary accounts of emotional development, the ability to recognise and
react to other people’s expressions of disgust is thought to be critical for children’s
avoidance of sources of contagion and contamination in the environment (Izard,
1994).This process would constitute a form of social referencing, enabling children
to avoid touching or eating substances that might make them ill. This implies that
children might be able to recognise the standard ‘disgust face’ at early ages. How-
ever, despite the argument for the evolutionary advantages of sensitivity to other
people’s expressions of disgust, children are less likely to be able to label the ‘disgust
face’ than other expressions of emotion.
Indeed, in early childhood, many children confuse disgust with other emotions,
especially anger (Gagnon, Gosselin, Hudon-ven der Buhs, Larocque, & Milliard,
2010). Five- to six-year-old children perform better on matching tasks than label-
ling tasks (Vicari, Reilly, Pasqualetti,Vizzotto, & Caltagirone, 2000). However, when
children are provided with a narrative that puts the facial expression of disgust into
context, they are more likely to recognise disgust (e.g., Nelson, Hudspeth, & Rus-
sell, 2013).
Bridges’ (1932) differentiation theory proposed that the specific emotion of
disgust emerges from the broader feeling of distress (see Figure 1.1). Given that
proposal, it is interesting that children’s recognition of other people’s facial expres-
sions follows a similar pathway, from recognising distress to recognising more spe-
cific negative emotions. The available cross-cultural evidence suggests that younger
children generally perceive the disgust face as distressed or unhappy, but they do
not necessarily recognise the pure emotion of disgust separately from the broader
category of negative emotion (Widen & Russell, 2013). However, perceiving the
 Surprise and disgust 31

disgust face as negative may still induce even young children to avoid whatever has
upset another person (Moses, Baldwin, Rosicky, & Tidball, 2001).
Some children and teenagers have particular problems in recognising disgust
in others. For example, teenagers with longstanding behavioural problems – those
that began earlier in childhood – show difficulties in recognising expressions of dis-
gust as well as fear, anger and happiness (Fairchild, van Goozen, Calder, Stollery, &
Goodyer, 2009).

Moral disgust
Adults sometimes use the word ‘disgusting’ to refer to moral transgressions as well as
physical stimuli. Although this use of the word may simply be metaphorical, people
sometimes respond to hypothetical moral transgressions with the facial expres-
sion of disgust (Cannon, Schnall, & White, 2011). Some investigators have also
attempted to show that physically disgusting stimuli and moral transgressions evoke
similar patterns of brain activity; the evidence for this claim is mixed (see review by
Chapman & Anderson, 2013).
Five- to nine-year-old children who were asked whether certain activities could
be considered to be disgusting were most likely to give that label to physically dis-
gusting things; they were also somewhat likely to refer to some activities that vio-
lated moral rules as disgusting, but they did so significantly less often (Danovitch &
Bloom, 2009). The same pattern of findings was observed in a subsequent experi-
ment when the word ‘disgusting’ was not mentioned, but children were asked to
point to pictures of different facial expressions; they were more likely to point
to a picture of the ‘disgust face’ when referring to physically rather than morally
unpleasant activities, although some children did associate moral transgressions with
the facial expression of disgust.

Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and the experience of disgust

Some individuals are particularly likely to experience disgust, a phenomenon
known as disgust sensitivity, which is often a feature of Obsessive-Compulsive
Disorder (OCD). Symptoms experienced by children with OCD often focus on
issues of dirt, contamination and disease (Swedo, Rappoport, Leonard, Lenane, &
Cheslow, 1989). Children who show heightened disgust sensitivity are more
likely to experience symptoms of anxiety and phobias, as well as symptoms of
OCD (Muris, van der Heiden, & Rassin, 2008). In a clinical sample of adoles-
cent patients, disgust sensitivity was associated with more severe symptoms of
OCD (Olatunji, Ebusutani, Kim, Riemann, & Jacobi, 2017). Cognitive behaviour
therapy has been found to reduce disgust sensitivity as well as core symptoms of
disorder in children who are being treated for OCD and other anxiety disorders
(Taboas, Ojserkis, & McKay, 2015).
32 Surprise and disgust

These findings regarding the relationship between heightened sensitivity to dis-

gust and symptoms of OCD and other anxiety disorders suggest that fear and disgust
may intertwine to produce particular phobias and the obsessions and compulsions
characteristic of OCD. In the next chapter, we will examine what is known about
the development of fear and its relation to anxiety disorders.
4
FEAR AND ANXIETY

When do children first feel fear? ‘Fear’ is defined in the Oxford English Dictionary
as ‘the emotion of pain or uneasiness caused by the sense of impending danger, or
by the prospect of some possible evil’ (p. 973). In other words, fear has a cognitive
component: To feel fear, infants must sense or know that something unpleasant is
about to happen. They must understand the physical properties of the world well
enough to know when they are in possible danger.
Fear is a primary emotion that is experienced in the moment, elicited by signs
of danger in the world. In contrast, anxiety requires the cognitive ability to imagine
a dangerous future – to anticipate what dangers might be encountered in particular
places, with particular people, at particular times. With increasing age, children are
more likely to imagine future possibilities and so begin to express worries as well
as fears. For some children, this tendency to worry about things that might happen
consolidates into clinically significant anxiety disorders.

The first signs of fear in infancy

Studies of infants’ depth perception

Defensive reactions to looming stimuli

Much of what we know about the very early development of fear comes from
vision scientists’ studies of infants’ depth perception, in particular studies of very
young infants’ responses to looming objects and studies of older infants’ reactions
to a perceived drop-off in the surface they are crawling on. It is clear that infants
soon become sensitive to one form of danger. In a set of experiments on looming,
investigators presented young infants with displays of dots that were manipulated
to look as though they are moving toward or away from the infants. One- to
34 Fear and anxiety

two-month-old infants tracked the pattern of the dots with their eyes but did not
seem to perceive an impending collision. In contrast, 4-month-old infants show a
defensive reaction, blinking when the dots appear to be about to hit them in the
face (Yonas et al., 1977). By 6 to 7 months of age, infants who are presented with
looming stimuli blink in a pattern that shows they are sensitive not only to the
visual angle of the stimulus but also to the likely time of collision (Kayed & van der
Meer, 2000). Is this one of the first signs of fear? Similar studies of adults show that
participants react more quickly to looming stimuli when the stimuli are threaten-
ing, for example, snakes and spiders as opposed to rabbits and butterflies (Vagnoni,
Lourenco, & Longo, 2012), which implies that people’s reactions to looming stimuli
have an emotional component.
EEG studies show that infants’ defensive reactions to looming stimuli are associ-
ated with brain activity in the visual cortex (van der Weel & van der Meer, 2009),
particularly for younger infants (van der Meer, Svantesson, & van der Weel, 2012).
Insofar that classic work with rhesus monkeys has shown that the perception of
looming stimuli are associated with fear responses, infants’ defensive reactions to
both visual and auditory stimuli that appear to be approaching them reveal the
beginnings of the development of fear.

Reactions to the visual cliff

Early signs of fear are also measured using the ‘visual cliff.’ The visual cliff is a piece
of apparatus originally designed to study the development of depth perception in
human infants and members of other species:

It consists of a board laid across a large sheet of heavy glass which is supported
a foot or more above the floor. On one side of the board a sheet of patterned
material is placed flush against the undersurface of the glass, giving the
glass the appearance as well as the substance of solidity. On the other side a
sheet of the same material is laid upon the floor; this side of the board thus
becomes the visual cliff.
(Gibson & Walk, 1960, p. 67; see Figure 4.1)

Infants’ reactions to the deep and shallow sides of the cliff depended on whether
or not the infants had already learned to crawl; analyses of infants’ heart rate (HR)
showed that 5-month-olds showed HR deceleration, a sign of attention and inter-
est, whereas 9-month-olds showed HR acceleration, a sign of emotional arousal
(Schwartz, Campos, & Baisel, 1973). These reactions to the visual cliff show that
infants express their discomfort in behavioural and physiological ways.
It is clear that the development of locomotion fosters infants’ understanding of
possible dangers in the world, as measured by the studies that use the visual cliff.
But infants’ wariness of heights does not appear as soon as they achieve independ-
ent movement. Learning to crawl promotes the ability that vision scientists refer
to as visual proprioception, that is, the ability to perceive yourself moving around the
 Fear and anxiety 35

FIGURE 4.1 Experience with self-propelled movement in a ‘baby go-cart’ and sensitiv-

ity to the visual cliff
Source: Dahl et al. (2013)

environment.The experience of self-propelled movement facilitates visual proprio-

ception, even when infants have not yet mastered independent crawling. In one
experiment (Dahl et al., 2013), infants who had not yet learned to crawl were ran-
domly assigned either to a condition in which they were trained in the use of what
the scientists referred to as a ‘baby go-cart’ (Figure 4.1) or one in which they did
not receive this training. Infants who experienced moving around in the ‘baby go-
cart’ showed stronger reactions to being placed on the deep side of the visual cliff.

Facial expressions of fearful emotion

During the first months of life, infants begin to show facial expressions that convey
negative emotion. There is mixed evidence concerning whether these expressions
map onto the operational definitions used to identify fearful expressions in adults
(cf., Hiatt et al., 1979; Izard, 1994; Oster et al., 1992). In a cross-cultural study
of 11-month-old European American, Chinese and Japanese infants, adult raters
found it difficult to distinguish infants’ expressions of negative emotion in two
situations – arm restraint versus being presented with a growling gorilla – which
were designed to provoke anger versus fear (Camras et al., 2007). In other respects,
the infants responded differently to the two situations, struggling when their arms
were restrained and freezing up in the face of the gorilla, but their facial expressions
36 Fear and anxiety

could not be differentiated. These data are compatible with Bridges’ (1932) pro-
posal that expressions of anger and fear both emerge from younger infants’ gener-
alised distress, and further suggest that different manifestations of these emotions
emerge at different points in early development. The mixture of emotional signals
seen in infants’ faces has been discussed in terms of ‘facial babbling,’ analogous to
the mixture of vocal sounds produced before infants speak with words (Cole &
Moore, 2015).
Clearer facial expressions of fear, in response to novel situations, are seen in
toddlers by the age of 24 months (Buss & Kiel, 2004). By that point, expressions
of sadness, anger and fear are more clearly differentiated. Thus, although we can-
not interview infants to determine if they are feeling fearful, there is converging
evidence that when placed in highly novel or potentially dangerous situations, they
show accelerated heart rate, avoidance of potential danger, vocal distress and facial
expressions of emotion, all of which together suggest that they feel afraid.

Fear of new things and new people

Much classic research on infants’ fears focussed on the question of whether or not
infants were naturally afraid of new experiences. A fear of novelty – particularly
new things that are coming right at you – is characteristic of many different species,
not just humans; such fear in response to novel experiences is shown when animals
startle at a strange sound or run away from strange objects (Bronson, 1968). Similar
reactions to novelty are also shown by human infants, when they first begin to dis-
tinguish what is new from what is familiar. In this way, the development of fear can
be seen as an early intellectual achievement.
However, it is also important to note that infants may be interested in and
amused by the new things they encounter, and so they do not always respond with
negative emotion. How they do respond depends greatly on the extent to which
they have control over their encounter with new people and new things. Infants’
positive and negative emotions to novelty were explored in a number of classic
experiments that set up challenges that might provoke fear or more positive reac-
tions from infants.

Fear of novel toys and novel environments

A good illustration of the importance of infants’ control over a potentially fear-
provoking object is provided by a study of 12-month-old infants who encoun-
tered a toy monkey who clanged cymbals together in a somewhat menacing way
(Gunnar-von Gnechten, 1978). Half of the infants were able to control the mon-
key’s actions by pressing a panel. The other infants did not have any control over
the monkey’s behaviour. Boys who did not have control over the monkey’s actions
were especially likely to be frightened by the monkey; in contrast, girls were gener-
ally less frightened by the toy, even when they had no control over its movements.
 Fear and anxiety 37

Another classic study of infants’ degree of control over novel experiences

shows that while infants may protest being separated from their parents, they may
choose on their own initiative to leave their parents behind whilst they explore
new environments. Infants exploring a novel and complex outdoor environ-
ment (a suburban garden in the United States) crept or toddled away from their
mothers, the distance travelled by a particular infant being functionally related
to its age (Rheingold & Eckerman, 1970). The researchers also found that, when
10-month-old infants were invited to explore an empty room by going through
an open doorway, they were eager to do so; however, it was quite different when
it was not the infants’ own decision and they were placed in the same room,
under the same condition, by their mothers who then returned to the first room
(Rheingold & Eckerman, 1969). It was only under the latter condition that the
infants showed what has traditionally been labelled ‘fear of separation’ by psycho-
analytic theorists (Bowlby, 1969). Thus, what is frightening may become pleasur-
able if infants can choose to experience the novel environment or play with the
novel toy.

Fear of unfamiliar people

The idea that ‘fear of separation’ is a normal developmental milestone is paralleled
by the similar idea that infants become naturally afraid of strangers shortly before
their first birthday, the time when they are developing focussed attachment rela-
tionships with their caregivers (Bowlby, 1969). Longitudinal observations of the
same infants over time suggest that there is an increase in negative responses to
unfamiliar people at this time (Sroufe, 1977). However, a critical review of the lit-
erature revealed little evidence for a normative ‘fear of strangers’ in infancy (Rhein-
gold & Eckerman, 1973). Rather, once again, the nature of the infants’ reactions
when meeting new people depends on the degree of control they have and the
behaviour of the people whom they meet.
For example, unfamiliar people who do not try to intrude on infants’ personal
space, but instead invite infants to come over to play with attractive toys, are not
met with fear but with interest (Ross & Goldman, 1977). In that study, infants were
more likely to approach active, sociable yet non-intrusive people than quiet, passive
strangers who did not actively invite the infants to explore the toys. Thus, control
over the situation but also the reassuring expressions of positive affect and interest
by the strangers seemed to prevent fearful responses to new people.
As infants grow older, they may be more likely to show signs of fear of the
unknown. For example, in one longitudinal study, 143 infants and their mothers
were observed four times in the infants’ first 1.5 years (Braungart-Rieker, Hill-
Soderlund, & Karrass, 2010). At each age, the infant was approached by a stranger.
On average, the infants showed a significant increase in fear reactions from 4 to
16 months of age, but the extent of the increase showed considerable individual
variability.
38 Fear and anxiety

FIGURE 4.2 Infants’ emotional reactions to an unfamiliar adult and a large teddy bear
were observed during a simulated birthday party
Source: Hay et al. (2017)

Many classic studies of infants’ reactions to new places and new people are
based on relatively small, selected samples of infants. However, a recent study
of a nationally representative sample of British infants replicated the proce-
dures advocated by Ross and Goldman (1977), in which an active but non-
intrusive stranger invites 12-month-olds to play with toys. In a teddy bears’
 Fear and anxiety 39

picnic scenario, a friendly, conversational stranger dressed as a fairy tale char-

acter invited the infants to help unpack a picnic basket filled with cups, dishes
and play food (Hay et al., 2017).
Only 5% of the 250 infants tested were distressed at the beginning of the teddy
bear picnic procedure, when the costumed fairy tale character set out the dishes and
play food; an additional 5% showed some wariness. The other infants joined in the
interaction with the stranger. These findings from a relatively large, representative
community sample corroborated earlier evidence that a friendly, sociable stranger
does not usually evoke signs of distress in infants (Ross & Goldman, 1977).
In contrast, when a second stranger arrived for this teddy bear’s picnic – the
eponymous life-sized teddy bear – 20% of the infants became very distressed, with
another 15% showing some degree of wariness, although the majority responded
to the bear with neutral or positive affect (Hay et al., 2017). Analysis of the stress
hormone cortisol in the infants’ saliva showed that the experience of meeting the
teddy bear was challenging for the average infant but did not necessarily lead to
overt distress (Waters et al., 2013).
Taken together, these findings confirm that infants at this age are not universally
afraid of strangers. The levels of fear shown depend on what the strangers look like,
what they do and the degree of control infants have over the interaction.

The emergence of specific fears in childhood

What kind of things frighten young children?

As children grow older and develop the ability to imagine things and events that
are not immediately present in the environment (Harris, 2000), they become more
likely to fear the unknown. Studies undertaken over the last century show some
commonality in children’s fears over the decades, as well as some responses to their
current circumstances. In a classic study of 400 children between 5 and 12 years of
age ( Jersild, Markey, & Jersild, 1933), the majority of children interviewed reported
fears of remote dangers, or imaginary or supernatural beings. Thirty years later, an
interview study undertaken in the US revealed that many of children’s fears were
political in nature, with the children saying they were afraid of war and hostile
takeover of their country (Croake, 1969). A subsequent study in which children
were interviewed while they were drawing pictures also revealed fears of ghosts and
monsters, although older children expressed more realistic fears of being injured or
being exposed to physical dangers (Bauer, 1976).
In subsequent decades, primary school-aged children were likely to report being
afraid of the dark, being in physical danger, animals and inoculations, but they also
expressed fears of illness or punishment (Meltzer et al., 2009; Spence & McCathie,
1993). In a survey of British children in the 1990s, the most common fears were (in
order): being hit by a car or lorry; not being able to breathe; bombings and inva-
sions; fire; burglars; falling from a height; serious illness; earthquakes; being sent to
the headteacher; death (Ollendick,Yule, & Ollier, 1991).
40 Fear and anxiety

Fears are related to the growth of children’s imaginations, as shown in their

expressed fears of imaginary beings like ghosts and monsters. Ways of coping with
these imagined fears change as children grow older. For example, preschool-aged
children may use their pretend play abilities to cope with a fear of ghosts by pre-
tending the ghosts they fear are friendly; older children are more able to reassure
themselves that the ghosts or monsters they fear are not real (Sayfan & Lagatutta,
2009).
Although we have seen that, in one study, male infants were more likely than
their female counterparts to be afraid of an uncontrollable toy (Gunnar-von Gne-
chten, 1978), and in another, larger sample, no differences between girls and boys
were seen in overt fear (Hay et al., 2017), surveys of children’s fears and phobias in
the primary school years suggest that girls are more fearful than boys (e.g., Lichten-
stein & Annas, 2000; Ollendick et al., 1991). A large study of developmental trajec-
tories in fearfulness over the middle childhood years showed that girls commonly
showed an increase and subsequent decrease in fearfulness, whereas boys showed
more consistent levels of fear over those years (Côté,Tremblay, Nagin, Zoccolillo, &
Vitaro, 2002). Conversely, fearless risk-taking is more common in boys than girls
(Byrnes, Miller, & Schaefer, 1999; Côté et al., 2002).
Culture influences both the nature and the intensity of children’s fears; for exam-
ple, in a study of children living in the American West, Navajo children expressed
more fears than did Anglo American children (Tikalsky & Wallace, 1988). In a large
survey of the fears reported by children living in the US state of Hawaii, fears were
expressed more often by children of Hawaiian or Asian background (Shore & Rap-
port, 1998). In a comparison of Finnish and Estonian children, some cultural differ-
ences emerged in the content of the children’s fears but, in both countries, children
expressed more fears than their parents reported (Lahikainen, Kraav, Kirmanen, &
Taimalu, 2006).
These findings suggest that fear may play a different role in different cultures;
it seems possible that children’s fears are either endorsed or minimised by adult
caregivers, depending on the cultural context. To the extent that normal levels
of fear are adaptive in preventing children’s potentially dangerous actions, cultural
variation in the endorsement or suppression of fears may be related to children’s
risk-taking activities.
There may be some disparity between what children fear the most and what
they worry about most often on a day-to-day basis. For example, American chil-
dren in the 1990s reported their worries (in order) as: their health; issues to do
with school; possible harm that might befall them; being asked to perform in front
of other people; the unknown future; possible disasters; family problems; problems
with their classmates; money problems; war; friendship issues; and their appearance
(Silverman, La Greca, & Wasserstein, 1995). Some children worry more than others,
and excessive levels of worry are often shown by children with clinically signifi-
cant anxiety disorders. However, even before children acquire the verbal skills to
articulate their fears and worries, there are individual differences in fearfulness and
 Fear and anxiety 41

fearlessness that begin in infancy and may extend into later childhood and adoles-
cence.These individual differences have a biological basis but are also susceptible to
the influence of the family environment.

Individual differences in fearfulness and fearlessness

Within any culture and within both sexes, some children are more fearful than
others. In recent years there has been considerable interest in describing and
explaining individual differences in fearfulness and its converse, fearlessness, in
childhood and adolescence. It is clear that these individual differences originate
in infancy.

Fearful temperament in infancy

In Chapter 1, we already considered the developmental importance of individual
temperament. Not all babies are alike in their emotional reactions to the world.
Individual differences in fearfulness can be identified in two ways, using tempera-
ment questionnaires completed by parents and by using direct observation of infants
confronted with novel, somewhat threatening environments in which alarming
things might happen. Both parents’ reports and direct observation of infants sug-
gest that even in the first year of life, when some think that fears of separation and
unfamiliar people are normative, some infants are more fearful than others (e.g.,
Goldsmith & Campos, 1990).

Laboratory studies of behavioural inhibition

Temperamentally fearful infants who freeze up in response to unfamiliar things are
said to be showing behavioural inhibition (Kagan, Reznick, & Snidman, 1987). For
example, in an initial study by Kagan and his colleagues, 305 parents were inter-
viewed by telephone about their toddlers’ temperament; 160 of the children were
classified as extremely fearful or extremely fearless. Subsequently, 117 of them were
brought into the laboratory, where they met strangers, were asked to take part in
a difficult imitation task and played with unfamiliar toys, including a frightening
robot. They also experienced separation from their mothers. On the basis of those
direct observations of responses to the experimental challenges, 58 were classified as
either extremely inhibited or extremely uninhibited in their reactions to the situ-
ation (Garcia-Coll, Kagan, & Reznick, 1984; Kagan, Reznick, & Snidman, 1984).
The highest rates of behavioural inhibition were seen in response to the robot and
separation from the mother.
In Kagan and colleagues’ study, the children’s observed behavioural inhibition
in the laboratory correlated with the parents’ independent reports of fearfulness,
which suggested that these individual differences were stable across different sit-
uations. Similarly, mothers’ earlier ratings of fearfulness on the Infant Behaviour
42 Fear and anxiety

Questionnaire predicted toddlers’ later behavioural inhibition in laboratory tasks

(Braungart-Rieker et al., 2010).

Fearfulness in response to social challenges

Attempts have been made to distinguish children’s reactions to robots and other
sights and sounds in strange environments versus new people and social challenges.
To the extent that behavioural inhibition in infancy might be associated with later
shyness in childhood, we might expect to see a particular difficulty in response to
the challenge of meeting someone new. To test this possibility, 108 toddlers were
assessed during two laboratory sessions (Rubin, Burgess, & Hastings, 2002). In the
first session, the toddlers met both a robot and a clown and were separated from
their mothers. The social challenge – meeting a human clown, as opposed to a
mechanical robot – was met with almost universal avoidance.
In the second session, the toddlers each met an unfamiliar peer and that child’s
mother. The children’s inhibited behaviour was moderately stable from the first to
the second sessions, suggesting that at least some of the toddlers were responding in
a similar way to physical and social challenges. Individual differences in the labora-
tory measures of behavioural inhibition are associated with greater fear of strangers
(Brooker et al., 2013), confirming earlier evidence that fear of strangers is not a
universal developmental milestone (Rheingold & Eckerman, 1973), but rather an
individual tendency that is bound up with more general fearfulness in response to
novelty and emotional challenges.

Biological correlates of fearfulness in infancy

Subsequent studies by Kagan’s research group and others sought to find physical
correlates of behavioural inhibition, including eye colour (with children with blue
eyes hypothesised to be more fearful; Rosenberg & Kagan, 1987; Coplan, Cald-
well, & Rubin, 1998) and facial morphology (with children with narrow faces
hypothesised to be more fearful; Arcus & Kagan, 1995). However, any attempt to
identify physical markers of inhibited temperament must take into account the fact
that individual variation in fearfulness is not restricted to humans. Similar variations
in temperament are found in nonhuman species whose bodies differ from our own.
For example, similar patterns of behavioural inhibition and associated physiological
arousal can be identified in rhesus macaques (Figure 4.3; Suomi, Chaffin, & Higley,
2011).
The studies of behavioural inhibition in infancy have revealed biological under-
pinnings of the differences amongst individuals. As adults, when we feel afraid, we
may feel our hearts beat faster or our hands grow cold. These reactions and others,
which are linked to the autonomic nervous system, may also be experienced by
infants. In their first studies of behavioural inhibition, Kagan and his colleagues
(1987) argued that three possible systems that underpin individuals’ reactions to
 Fear and anxiety 43

FIGURE 4.3 Rhesus macaques show similar patterns of behavioural inhibition as shown

by human infants

novel and challenging events might be activated more readily in inhibited infants,
namely, the reticular activating system, the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA)
axis and the sympathetic nervous system. Their longitudinal analyses indicated the
more fearful toddlers had higher and more stable heart rates, and those children
with higher, more stable heart rates were more likely to remain shy and cautious
when tested again as 5-year-olds.
Other work has linked infants’ fearfulness with vagal tone and respiratory sinus
arrhythmia (Blandon, Calkins, Keane, & O’Brien, 2010; Brooker & Buss, 2010;
Graham, Ablow, & Measelle, 2010) and levels of the stress hormone cortisol (Buss,
Davidson, Kalin, & Goldsmith, 2004; Kagan et al., 1987). Our study of 12-month-
old infants’ reactions to meeting a teddy bear during a birthday party showed that
those infants who became overtly distressed were also more likely to be secreting
higher levels of cortisol (Hay et al., 2017). Thus, children’s experience of fear is
related to underlying physiological processes.
Inhibited temperament may also reflect particular patterns of brain develop-
ment. For example, in a longitudinal study in which infants’ brains were scanned
using magnetic resonance imaging (MRI), the brain scan yielded maps of con-
nections in the brain that were associated with parents’ reports of the infants’ later
behavioural inhibition at the age of 2 years (Sylvester et al., 2017). In particular, a
lower level of connectivity in a brain network associated with attention predicted
inhibited temperament at 2 years of age.
44 Fear and anxiety

Prediction from behavioural inhibition in infancy to

shyness in childhood
When children who have been characterised as showing behavioural inhibition
were observed again some years later, their early fearfulness predicts more caution
and shyness at the later time point. For example, children who are inhibited in
experimental situations as infants or toddlers show more reticent, less engaged play
with peers as 4- or 5-year-olds (Kagan et al., 1987; Rubin et al., 2002). Such shy
behaviour is relatively stable from early to later childhood (Rapee & Coplan, 2010).

Family influences on fearfulness

Genetic influence and gene-environment interplay

It is well known that variations in infants’ and toddlers’ temperament is partly
heritable (e.g., Goldsmith, 1996), and there is evidence from both behavioural
and molecular genetic studies to suggest that fearfulness is affected by genetic fac-
tors. For example, in a study of 130 twins, monozygous (MZ) and dizygous (DZ)
twin pairs were compared with respect to behavioural inhibition, as measured by
informants’ reports and direct assessments in the laboratory at 12, 18, 24 and 30
months of age (Matheny, 1989). If genetic influences are at work in determining an
infant’s degree of fearfulness, MZ twins who share all of their genes should be more
similar to each other than DZ twins who on average would share half their genes.
Indeed, the identical MZ twins were significantly more likely to resemble each
other in their responses on the behavioural inhibition tasks than were the DZ twins.
A similar difference between MZ and DZ twins was found in a study of 157
two-year-old twins’ behavioural inhibition during play with unfamiliar peers, thus
further documenting genetic influence on fearfulness (Dilalla, Kagan, & Reznick,
1994). Analyses of a sample of 178 same-sex MZ and DZ twins similarly drew
attention to genetic influences on extremely inhibited behaviour (Robinson,
Kagan, Reznick, & Corley, 1992). Further analyses of that sample showed that, even
though some infants changed in their levels of fearfulness over time, genetic factors
played a role in the extent and nature of the change (Plomin et al., 1993).
The study of genetic influence on infants’ fearfulness must also take into account
the infants’ experiences in their family environments. In a study of adopted infants,
information was obtained about the biological mother’s fearfulness (i.e., whether
or not she had experienced social phobia) and about the adoptive mothers’ and
fathers’ behaviour toward their adopted infants (Natsuaki, Leve, Neiderheiser, &
Shaw, 2013). At 2 years of age, the infants were observed in a social situation, and
their tendencies to show behavioural inhibition were observed. The birth mother’s
history of social phobia was associated with the 2-year-olds’ behavioural inhibition,
but that association was less evident when the adoptive parents had been emotion-
ally and verbally responsive to the infant, as assessed one year earlier. These findings
suggest that parents’ responsiveness to infants does not increase ‘clinginess’ in new
 Fear and anxiety 45

situations, but rather facilitates infants’ abilities to cope, even when the infants may
be genetically inclined to be fearful.

Prenatal and postnatal exposure to maternal cortisol

Biological influences on infants’ fearfulness extend beyond genetic influence.
Infants’ experiences in the womb may have effects on their temperament and
reactions to their postnatal environments. In particular, mothers’ own experience
of stress during pregnancy is associated with infants’ fearfulness (e.g., Bergmann,
Sarkar, O’Connor, Modi, & Glover, 2007). This effect may be due to the moth-
ers’ secretion of the stress hormone cortisol during the pregnancy, which can have
direct effects on the foetus.
For example, in a small but intensively measured longitudinal sample, Dutch
women experiencing pregnancy without medical complications were assessed for
levels of cortisol during pregnancy and then followed up several times after their
infants were born, when mothers and infants were observed whilst the infant was
being given a bath (de Weerth et al., 2003). Younger infants were generally some-
what likely to be distressed by the everyday experience of taking a bath, but their
fearful reactions tailed off over time. However, infants who had been exposed to
higher levels of maternal cortisol during pregnancy were more irritable and fearful
than other infants.
The pathway between mothers’ secretion of cortisol and infants’ fearful temper-
ament may be complex. In a longitudinal study of 162 women who were under-
going amniocentesis in mid-pregnancy, the women’s self-reports of stress were
unrelated to the cortisol levels measured in their blood (Baibazarova et al., 2013).
However, their plasma cortisol levels were correlated with the level of cortisol
in the amniotic fluid, which in turn was related to the infants’ subsequent birth
weight. Birth weight in turn predicted infants’ later fearfulness.
Birth weight is of course often associated with preterm birth, and both are
linked to the functioning of the placenta. During pregnancy, the placenta releases
corticotrophin-releasing hormone (CRH) which, at high levels, is associated with
preterm birth. Low levels of CRH in mid-pregnancy is associated with lower levels
of fearfulness after birth, although there seems to be a narrow time window when
this prenatal influence holds sway (Poggi Davis et al., 2005).
Infants may also be affected by mothers’ stress levels after birth, since maternal
cortisol may be transferred to the infants’ via breast milk. In a longitudinal study
(N = 253) of pregnancy and infant outcomes (Glynn et al., 2007), the cortisol levels
in mothers’ blood were significantly associated with infants’ fearfulness, but only in
the case where the infants were being breast-fed. If infants were being fed formula,
their mothers’ cortisol levels were unrelated to the infants’ fearful temperament.
Analysis of the actual cortisol levels within samples of breast milk provided by 52
mothers similarly showed a significant relationship with infants’ fearfulness, which
was particularly striking for girls (Grey, Poggi Davis, Sandman, & Glynn, 2011).
46 Fear and anxiety

Mother-infant interaction
Although it seems clear that biological factors influence infants’ fearfulness, fearful
reactions are also shaped by experiences in the postnatal environment. In particular,
infants’ experiences whilst interacting with their primary caregivers are important
influences on the development of fearful temperament.
As we have seen, a longitudinal study of infants’ reactions to unfamiliar peo-
ple showed a significant increase in fearful reactivity from 4 to 16 months of age;
however, the extent of fearful reactions was influenced by mothers’ sensitivity to
the infants’ behaviour (Braungart-Rieker et al., 2010). Mothers’ sensitivity to the
infants’ needs was measured independently, in the context of the mothers’ and
infants’ mutual play with toys; sensitivity was defined in terms of the mothers’
awareness of their infants’ signals, acting ‘in tune’ with their infants’ emotions and
participation in contingent interaction with their babies. When mothers showed
higher levels of sensitivity during play with toys, infants experienced a less sharp
increase in fearful reactions to strangers. This suggests that more positive experi-
ences with sensitive caregivers reduce fearful reactions to unfamiliar people and
events.
Maternal sensitivity in early infancy is a well-known predictor of secure
attachment relationships between infants and their caregivers (Ainsworth, Blehar,
Waters, & Wall, 2015; de Wolff & van Ijzendoorn, 1997). Children’s fearful reactions
to novel events and their own secretion of cortisol is influenced by the security
of their attachments to their caregivers; temperamentally fearful toddlers with less
secure attachment relationships are likely to show greater cortisol levels in response
to novel, fear-provoking events (Nachmias, Gunnar, Mangelsdorf, Parritz, & Buss,
1996). Children’s security in their attachment relationships also influences whether
or not they show elevated heart rate in response to novel challenges (Stevenson-
Hinde & Marshall, 1999).
Rather than showing such sensitivity, some caregivers are intrusive or derisive
when interacting with their infants. For example, they might laugh when their
infants show fear of new people or objects. Mothers’ intrusiveness and derision
in response to their infants’ fearful reactions appear to make it more likely that
early signs of behavioural inhibition consolidate into later shyness and difficulties
in interacting with peers (Rubin et al., 2002). Caregivers’ sensitivity and intrusive-
ness are however linked to the caregivers’ own emotional problems, including their
experience of depression and anxiety disorders.

Links between parents’ psychopathology and

children’s fearfulness
We have seen that infants’ fearful reactions increase in rate over the first year of
life (e.g., Braungart-Rieker et al., 2010); a sharper increase in fearfulness is shown
by infants whose mothers are experiencing symptoms of depression (Gartstein
et al., 2010). In the latter study, the association between mothers’ symptoms of
 Fear and anxiety 47

depression and infants’ increasing fearfulness was noted when the infants’ behaviour
was directly observed in laboratory as well as when the mothers reported on the
infants’ behaviour; thus the relationship between mothers’ and infants’ emotions
was not due to depressed women’s possibly negative views of their infants.
Depression is an episodic illness; mothers who are depressed when their infants
are young are likely to have been depressed before and likely to become depressed
again. This means that there are many mechanisms whereby maternal depression
may be related to infants’ fearfulness, including biological ones. Genetic factors
exert their influence across generations so that the infants of depressed parents may
be prone to emotional problems, including fearfulness.
It is not always easy to disentangle genetic transmission from the influence of
the family environment, because parents who experience depression pass on more
than genes to their children; they also may provide riskier prenatal and postnatal
environments. For example, mothers’ depression or anxiety during pregnancy may
be linked to their infants’ prenatal exposure to the stress hormone cortisol, which
as we have seen is correlated with infants’ subsequent fearfulness (e.g., Baibazarova
et al., 2013). After their infants are born, mothers who suffer from anxiety prob-
lems may show less sensitivity when interacting with their infants (Nicol-Harper,
Harvey, & Stein, 2007), and we have already seen that maternal sensitivity reduces
infants’ fearfulness (e.g., Braungart-Rieker et al., 2010).
Infants of anxious parents may explicitly learn to be afraid of new things by
watching their parents’ discomfort when meeting new people or entering novel
situations. This possibility was tested in one longitudinal study in which 4000 Brit-
ish women were screened during pregnancy for symptoms of social anxiety, with
105 meeting criteria for a clinical diagnosis of social anxiety disorder (Murray
et al., 2008). A comparison group of women who had low levels of anxiety was also
drawn from the population. The women and their infants were invited to the labo-
ratory when the infants were 10 and 14 months of age. On each occasion, they met
a stranger. The infants were also assessed for behavioural inhibition in response to
fear-provoking, non-social toys and events.The women with anxiety disorders were
less likely than other women to engage in easy conversation with the stranger.They
were more likely to show overt signs of anxiety in that social situation. When the
mothers and infants returned to the laboratory at 14 months, the infants of anxious
mothers were significantly more likely than the other infants to avoid interact-
ing with the stranger. These findings suggest that anxious parents’ own discomfort
when interacting with new people may transfer to their infants.

Emotion socialisation
Fearful children may either reduce or expand upon their fears over time, depend-
ing on the input they receive from their parents. Adults report that as children, they
learned about emotion by observing their parents’ reactions to their expressions
of positive and negative affect; such retrospective reports suggest that emotions
are socialised, and the nature of emotion socialisation depends on the gender of
48 Fear and anxiety

the child (Garside & Klimes-Dougan, 2002), as well as the gender of the parent
(Hooven, Gottman, & Katz, 1995).
Emotion socialisation takes place in everyday situations when parents talk to
their children. Parents’ conversations with their children include reminiscing about
past emotionally laden experiences and planning how to respond emotionally to
present or future challenges, a process sometimes known as emotion coaching (e.g.,
Denham, Mitchell-Copeland, Strandberg, Auerbach, & Blair, 1997). Conversations
with parents about emotion may be experienced differently by girls and boys. In
particular, when talking about potentially frightening situations, girls use more
emotion words than boys do (Fivush, Brotman, Buckner, & Goodman, 2000). In
general, young children seem to find it harder to talk about fear than other negative
emotions (Widen & Russell, 2003), which may impact upon the emotion socialisa-
tion that they receive. However, when given experimental challenges designed to
elicit different emotions, young children do report being frightened in response to
novelty, both human strangers and other unusual stimuli such as a pop-up snake
(Durbin, 2010). In that study, children’s reports of fear were linked to the facial
expressions they made in response to the novel people and objects, which implies
that even in early childhood, children can reflect on frightening experiences.

Gene-environment interaction
It is likely that genetic influences interact with environmental factors to influence
children’s levels of fearfulness. Scientific developments in the field of molecular
genetics allow investigators to tests hypotheses about gene-environment interaction by
comparing children with different combinations of alleles with respect to a gene
that might affect their fearfulness in relation to different types of experience in
their childhood environments. For example, much attention has been focussed on
a particular genetic polymorphism, the serotonin transporter gene 5-HTT, which
has two alleles (referred to as the long and short alleles).The presence of the 5-HTT
short allele is associated with lower uptake of serotonin. Variation in the 5-HTT
polymorphism is associated with differences in the attention people pay to negative
information, a psychological process that is linked to fear and anxiety (Pergamin-
Hight, Bakermans-Kranenburg, van IJzendoorn, & Bar-Haim, 2012).
Interaction between the presence of the short allele and the quality of caregiv-
ing an infant receives has been found to influence levels of fearfulness in infant
rhesus macaques (Barr et al., 2004). Similar findings emerged in a longitudinal
study of human children’s fearful temperament (Fox et al., 2005). Seven-year-old
children who had been assessed for behavioural inhibition at earlier ages were
genotyped and observed with unfamiliar peers. Their levels of behavioural inhibi-
tion in response to the unfamiliar peers were significantly related to the interaction
between their genotype and the levels of social support they experienced in their
environment, even when controlling for earlier levels of fearfulness. If children had
low levels of social support and also possessed the short 5HTT allele, they were
more likely to show inhibition when interacting with peers. If, however, children
 Fear and anxiety 49

who possessed the short 5HTT allele had adequate social support, they were less
likely to show fearfulness in this novel social situation. Subsequent research has
discovered similar patterns of interaction between the short 5HTT allele and levels
of environmental stress, affecting a range of negative emotions, not just fear, in chil-
dren and adolescents (for a meta-analysis of this work, see van IJzendoorn, Belsky, &
Bakermans-Kranenburg, 2012).

Anxiety disorders in childhood

Clinical diagnoses of anxiety disorder

When does normal variation in the tendency to feel fear or worry about things turn
into emotional problems of clinical concern? Clinical diagnostic systems devised
for adults, such as the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM) and the International
Classification of Diseases (ICD), include definitions of several anxiety disorders that
are sometimes also seen in childhood. For example, in the DSM system, these
include Generalised Anxiety Disorder (GAD), ‘unrealistic and excessive anxiety . . .
not linked to a specific situation or external stress’; Social Anxiety Disorder, ‘pro-
nounced and persistent fears of social and performance situations’; Specific Phobias,
e.g., strong fears of particular things or situations, such as spiders or heights; and
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD), ‘recurrent thoughts or behaviours that are
time consuming, cause distress, and . . . (cause) impairment in the person’s function-
ing’ (American Psychiatric Association, 2013, see pp. 189–290). In addition, the
DSM also highlights anxiety disorders that are especially likely to occur in child-
hood, including Separation Anxiety Disorder (SAD), ‘obvious distress from and con-
cern about being separated from those to whom the child is attached,’ and School
Phobia, a form of specific phobia to do with attending school.

Individual differences in risk for anxiety disorders in childhood

Community studies of children’s mental health reveal that a small minority of chil-
dren are already experiencing such high levels of fear or anxiety that they meet the
diagnostic criteria for one or more anxiety disorders. The rate with which chil-
dren experience clinically significant anxiety disorder seems to vary across cultures.
For example, in a community sample of preschool-aged children in the south-
ern United States, 10% of the children met DSM criteria for an anxiety disorder
(Egger & Angold, 2006). In contrast, in a community sample of 4-year-olds in Nor-
way, in which the same diagnostic interview was used, only 3% did so (Wichstrøm
et al., 2012). However, the findings from both samples attest to the fact that even
very young children may experience extreme levels of fear and anxiety, and their
lives are impaired by their symptoms.
Children whose parents suffer from anxiety and related emotional problems
are at particular risk to develop such problems, and that risk is exacerbated if,
as infants, those children already showed behavioural inhibition in response to
50 Fear and anxiety

new situations and potentially frightening events. For example, a sample of 200
children whose parents had been diagnosed with panic disorder and/or major
depressive disorder (most had both diagnoses) was compared with 84 compari-
son children whose parents were free of disorder (Biederman et al., 2001). The
children were tested for behavioural inhibition as preschoolers and assessed for
symptoms of anxiety disorder when they were over 5 years of age. In the sample
as a whole, 5% of the children met diagnostic criteria for Social Anxiety Disorder.
However, when children had a parent who experienced panic disorder and also
had shown behavioural inhibition as preschoolers, they were at heightened risk:
one out of four of such children were diagnosed with Social Anxiety Disorder
(Biederman et al., 2001). In general, regardless of the parents’ history of mental
health problems, those children who had shown behavioural inhibition as pre-
schoolers were significantly more likely than other children to be diagnosed with
social anxiety in childhood.
Other longitudinal studies have corroborated this finding. In one major Austral-
ian study of temperament, where children were assessed on 10 different occasions,
persistent shyness over childhood was found to be a significant predictor of anxiety
symptoms in early adolescence (Prior, Smart, Sanson, & Oberklaid, 2000). More
short-lived shyness was less predictive. In another large community sample from
New Zealand, a pattern of increasingly fearful and withdrawn behaviours predicted
later emotional disorders (Goodwin, Fergusson, & Horwood, 2004). Inhibited tem-
perament in early childhood, coupled with mothers’ history of anxiety, predicts
social anxiety in particular, as opposed to other forms of anxiety disorder (Rapee,
2014).
However, other work suggests that it is important to take the context into
account. There are some worrying or even dangerous situations in life where it is
quite reasonable to be fearful. Under such conditions of high threat, some behav-
ioural inhibition might be adaptive. In contrast, under conditions of low threat –
when the situation is predictable and children have control over what they might
have to see and do – behavioural inhibition is less likely to occur in most children.
Toddlers who show fearful behaviour in such low-threat situations are more likely
to develop anxiety symptoms (Buss, 2011). A child’s tendency to see threat in the
environment interacts with the child’s past history of behavioural inhibition to
promote anxiety disorder in later childhood (White et al., 2017). As we have seen,
such attention biases to threat may reflect an interplay between the child’s genetic
heritage and family environment (Pergamin-Hight et al., 2012).
Not all fearful infants go on to experience anxiety disorders. A review of research
on prediction from early fearfulness to later anxiety disorder has identified some
key factors that protect inhibited children against the risk of more severe anxiety.
These protective factors include: (a) being a girl, perhaps because it is more socially
acceptable for girls to be shy; (b) having less intrusive parents who are more accept-
ing of the child’s shyness and caution; (c) having positive experiences in child care
settings; and (d) having good attention skills (Degnan & Fox, 2007).
 Fear and anxiety 51

Stress disorders in childhood

We have seen from the surveys of children’s fears and worries that children dread
being caught up in disasters. What happens when children’s lives are endangered,
through accidents, weather-related disasters or exposure to warfare? Increasing
attention is being paid to children’s experiences of stress disorders, both acute
stress disorder that occurs immediately after the traumatic events and posttraumatic
stress disorder (PTSD) that may linger long after the event took place. PTSD is
diagnosed when the child has directly experienced or witnessed a life-threatening
event, when the event caused intense fear or horror, and when the child’s reactions
afterward involved some distortions of memory, e.g., flashbacks to the traumatic
circumstances. PTSD can be accompanied by other disorders; for example, children
caught up in road traffic accidents may have specific phobias involving driving or
cars (Keppel-Benson, Ollendick, & Benson, 2002). However, children do experi-
ence the distinct pattern of symptoms of PTSD, and these may persist for very long
periods of time.
A number of longitudinal studies have identified long-lasting symptoms of
PTSD deriving from some of the terrible things that have happened to children in
recent decades. Over half of the British school children on an educational cruise
who survived the shipwreck of their ship, the Jupiter, were diagnosed with PTSD;
15% of them still showed symptoms seven years later (Yule, Bolton, Udwin, &
Boyle, 2000). Children who were exposed to warfare in Bosnia were still show-
ing symptoms of PTSD two years after peace was declared (Smith, Perrin, Yule,
Hacam, & Stuvland, 2002).
When children experience life-threatening destruction, their symptoms of
PTSD sometimes persist into later life. For example, children whose town was
devastated by floods when a dam collapsed in the state of West Virginia in the
United States were experiencing PTSD at a higher rate than other people in their
geographical area 17 years after the actual disaster (Green et al., 1994).
Nearly half of the Welsh children whose primary school in the village of Aberfan
was buried by a collapsing slag heap in 1966, with 116 of their classmates dying in
the landslide, were still experiencing symptoms of PTSD in middle age (Morgan,
Scourfield, Williams, Jasper, & Lewis, 2003). In that sample, the very distinct symp-
toms of PTSD persisted, even though the sufferers were not at heightened risk for
other anxiety disorders, depression or substance misuse. This suggests that the envi-
ronmental effect of exposure to a life-threatening disaster has particular effects on
emotion and memory function, whether or not the person develops other forms
of emotional problems.

Fearlessness and behavioural problems in childhood

In their initial studies of behavioural inhibition in response to novel events, Kagan
and his colleagues drew attention to extreme fearlessness as well as extreme
52 Fear and anxiety

fearfulness in the infants and toddlers they studied (e.g., Kagan, Reznick, & Gib-
bons, 1989). Infants’ fearless responses to the fear-provoking paradigms (e.g., meet-
ing a robot) are sometimes referred to as ‘exuberance’ and discussed in terms of
active sociability that persists over time (e.g., Fox, Henderson, Rubin, Calkins, &
Schmidt, 2001). However, high levels of fearlessness in response to these emotional
challenges are sometimes related to later disruptive behaviour (Degnan et al., 2011).
Conversely, children who show more fearfulness on behavioural inhibition tasks
may be less likely than other children to be diagnosed with a disruptive behaviour
disorder, e.g., conduct disorder or oppositional-defiant disorder (Biederman et al.,
2001). Infants on the pathway toward such disorders may also show higher levels of
anger at an early age. In the next chapter, we shall discuss the development of anger
and its relation to these later disorders.
5
ANGER
Fight vs. flight

In contrast to fear, which is manifested by attempts to escape from or avoid chal-

lenging situations, some emotion theorists see anger as an ‘approach-related affect’
(Carver & Harmon-Jones, 2009), which induces people to confront and deal with
the frustrating or challenging situation that is eliciting their anger. This difference
between avoidance and confrontation is summed up in the familiar phrase, ‘fight or
flight,’ in response to challenge. Whilst anger certainly does not inevitably lead to
overt aggression, it often leads to some form of active protest. Thus, whereas fearful
children may withdraw from social interaction with other people, angry children
may act on their feelings and confront the people and things that are frustrating or
otherwise annoying them.

The development of anger

Adults express anger through many different channels, often using a combination of
words (including swear words), nonverbal utterances, facial expressions, gestures and
impatient actions. Infants begin to find similar ways of expressing their frustration
and anger in the first years of life.

Vocal protest
In Chapter 2, we saw that infants spend less of their time crying as they approach
their first birthdays. As crying becomes less frequent, it provides a clearer signal of
what infants need and want, and therefore a clue as to what emotions they might
be feeling on the inside. Crying becomes a form of protest when infants’ actions
are restricted, or when their parents or other people do things the infants find
objectionable.
54 Anger

In her classic developmental model of the differentiation of emotions described

in Chapter 1, Bridges (1932) hypothesised that anger was the first primary emotion
to emerge out of more generalised distress. Based on her observations of infants in
an orphanage in Montreal, she suggested that signs of anger first emerged between
3 and 6 months of age. But can infants so young truly be said to be feeling an emo-
tion as complex as anger?
In a more recent attempt to determine when infants first express anger, my
colleagues and I studied a nationally representative sample of 300 firstborn British
infants whose parents had been recruited in pregnancy. When the infants were 6
months old, we asked mothers, fathers and a third family member or friend to com-
plete questionnaires about the infants’ behaviour, which included a list of ‘develop-
mental milestones’: achievements in motor development, like sitting up or trying to
stand up, and communicative behaviours like smiling or expressing affection. Two
items measured possible signs of anger: angry moods and temper tantrums (Hay
et al., 2010). Even at this early age, over half the infants sometimes experienced
‘angry moods’ though only a few showed anger often (Figure 5.1).
At first glance, these reports by parents and other people in infants’ lives might
be discounted. Perhaps some parents see their infants more negatively than others,
and maybe that says more about the parents’ own emotional states than the infants’
true feelings. But some indication of what the family members were talking about
could be corroborated in 30 seconds of observation of the infants’ behaviour dur-
ing an everyday frustration task, being strapped into a car seat. Those infants who

60

50

40
Mother
% 30
Father
20 Other

10

0
No Somemes Oen
FIGURE 5.1 Percentage of mothers, fathers and other family members reporting that
6-month-old infants experience angry moods
Source: Hay et al. (2010)
 Anger 55

cried or screamed when placed in the car seat had been independently reported to
be angry and to hit out at or bite other people (Hay et al., 2010). This suggests that
the capacity for angry crying has emerged by 6 months of age, but there are also
individual differences in the tendency to express anger, even at this very early age.

Facial expressions of anger

As our observations of infants’ reactions to being put in a car seat revealed, early
expressions of anger are linked to frustration. Infants’ angry emotions are conveyed
by the face as well as the voice. In a classic experiment designed to elicit anger in
response to frustration, 7-month-olds were offered a biscuit by an experimenter,
who then snatched it away from them (Stenberg, Campos, & Emde, 1983). The
infants were observed to show distinct facial expressions of anger, comparable to
those seen in adults. The infants’ faces also became red and flushed. Other types of
facial expressions did not change when the rusk was taken away, which suggests that
the experiment evoked anger, not a mix of other emotions.
Angry facial expressions are also seen when infants lose control over the pro-
duction of an interesting event. In one experiment, 2- to 8-month-old infants who
were trained on a contingency task (pulling a string to see a picture of children
accompanied by the Sesame Street theme tune) showed joyful expressions while
learning the trick and angry expressions when the contingency was extinguished
(Lewis, Alessandri, & Sullivan, 1990). Within this age range, older infants expressed
more interest in the task but also more anger when their efforts no longer worked.
If infants expressed anger rather than sadness during the extinction procedure, they
were more likely to maintain their interest in relearning the task (Lewis, Sullivan,
Ramsay, & Alessandri, 1992).
Facial expressions of anger are also shown by older toddlers when they encoun-
ter frustrating circumstances. For example, in a study of young children in China,
facial signs of anger were recorded when a toy was removed or the children were
presented with a locked box; in that sample, the children’s expressions of anger were
accompanied by greater persistence in trying to overcome the frustrating condi-
tions (He, Xu, & Degnan, 2011).
In general, these studies show that facial expressions connoting anger are likely
to be seen under frustrating circumstances, when infants’ enjoyment of food or an
interesting activity has been interrupted. Facial expressions of anger in response
to frustration occur proportionally more often in infants who have reached their
first birthday than in younger infants (Kearney, 2004). However, other researchers
advise caution in drawing conclusions from infants’ facial expressions in a context
in which the experimenters are only trying to elicit one particular emotion (Oster
et al., 1992). They argue that infants’ facial expressions may incorporate elements
of different primary emotions, and it may be too easy to assume that the negative
emotion elicited in response to restraint is pure anger. These more recent findings
are thus in line with Bridges’s (1932) original claim that the negative emotions only
gradually differentiate from each other.
56 Anger

It has long been known that observers’ inferences about infants’ emotions draw
on context as well as the details of the infants’ reactions and are subject to the effects
of professional experience ( Sherman, 1927). However, it is also possible that in
early infancy, distress in response to particular situations does incorporate a range of
emotional experience, rather than the manifestation of a ‘pure’ emotion. As we shall
see in Chapter 6, frustration elicits sadness and hopelessness, not just anger. Infants’
facial expressions of positive emotion are more likely to take the form of discrete
signals (such as smiling), not blended emotion, but their expression of negative
emotion is more likely to show a mix of components associated with different dis-
crete emotions (Matias & Cohn, 1993). This finding suggests that, while it is often
useful to focus on one negative emotion at a time, as we are doing in this book, it
is important to realise that people may often experience mixed feelings in response
to their experiences and must therefore attempt to interpret their own reactions to
themselves. This process begins in infancy.

Angry protests during conflict

Conflict with peers

In our longitudinal study of the early development of anger, the family members’
reports of infants’ anger were also associated with the infants’ observed behaviour
during conflicts with unfamiliar peers, six months later (Hay et al., 2010). Conflict –
defined as social interactions in which one person objects to something another
person has done (Hay & Ross, 1982) – often arises in the course of peer interac-
tion when one infant attempts to touch the peer or grasp a toy the peer is holding.
Infants often simply resist their peers’ actions, but sometimes express their displeas-
ure with vocal protests or retaliation against the peers.
When conflict first appears in infants’ peer interactions in the last quarter of
the first year of life, infants usually make their objections known through simple
resistance (e.g., withdrawing a toy the peer is reaching for that is out of reach of the
peer’s grasp), rather than angry protest or the use of force (Hay, Nash, Caplan, Ishi-
kawa, & Vespo, 2011). Older infants are more likely to react to peers’ behaviour with
vocal protest or the deployment of force, perhaps tugging on the toy in question or,
more rarely, striking out at the peer’s body (Hay, Hurst,Waters, & Chadwick, 2011).

Conflict with siblings

Angry protest also occurs when siblings, as well as peers, do things that infants find
undesirable. Some degree of conflict between siblings is to be expected and may
have positive consequences. For example, conflict between siblings may promote
the development of theory-of-mind (Foote & Holmes-Lanergan, 2003), particu-
larly if the siblings’ conflicts are constructive and contain elements of positive emo-
tion (Randell & Peterson, 2009); the presence of a younger sibling fosters social
 Anger 57

cognitive development in middle childhood, even when many other family factors
are taken into account (Paine, Pearce, van Goozen, de Sonneville, & Hay, 2018).
However, while sibling conflict may have some positive effects, children’s intense
anger with their siblings can also be a harbinger of future problems. Five-year-
old boys’ highly angry, aggressive conflict with their siblings – sometimes referred
to as ‘destructive conflict’ – predicted later behavioural problems, particularly in
the context of less optimal parent-child relationships (Garcia, Shaw, Winslow, &
Yaggi, 2000). Although constructive sibling conflict may foster the development
of theory of mind, angry, destructive behaviour with siblings is inversely associated
with understanding of other people’s mental states (Howe, Rinaldi, Jennings, &
Petrakos, 2002).

Conflict with parents

Children also display anger toward their parents. For example, infants show anger
when their parents leave them, as happens in the Strange Situation, a labora-
tory assessment designed to measure individual differences in the security of
attachment to the parent (Ainsworth, 1979). Analysis of infants’ facial expressions
during the separation episodes of the Strange Situation revealed that anger in
response to the parent’s departure was more common than sadness; secure chil-
dren were no less likely than insecure children to express anger (Shiller, Izard, &
Hembree, 1986).
Anger continues to be a component of parent-infant interaction in middle
childhood. Parents and children do express anger toward each other, although
detailed observations of 6-year-old children interacting with their parents showed
that displays of positive emotion were six to seven times as likely to occur as expres-
sions of all negative emotions, including sadness, fear and disgust as well as anger
(Snyder, Stoolmiller, Wilson, & Yamamoto, 2003). However, individual differences
were apparent. In Snyder and colleagues’ study, the likelihood of a particular child
becoming angry with his or her parents was stable over a week of observations.
Children may become angry with their parents because a sibling has arrived;
sibling jealousy may provoke conflict with both the parent and the sibling. For
example, in a longitudinal study, toddlers who had shown signs of being jealous of
their father’s attention to a younger sibling were more likely to engage in conflict
with that sibling over two years later (Kollak & Volling, 2011).
The degree of angry conflict children experience with their parents and siblings
may be influenced by parents’ own emotional difficulties, including their symp-
toms of clinical disorder. For example, in an observational study of children whose
mothers had or had not experienced depressive illness, conflict between siblings
was most common for children whose mothers had not been ill and least common
for those whose mothers had suffered from bipolar disorder; in the latter group,
children were more likely to engage in conflict with their mothers (Hay, Vespo, &
Zahn-Waxler, 1998).
58 Anger

These findings suggest that the expression of anger in the context of family
relationships is likely to reflect individual tendencies to be angry as well as family
dynamics. This network of angry relationships soon becomes complicated in the
case of families with more than two children. In such families, hostility between
siblings is linked to the mother’s symptoms of low mood as well as her own level of
hostility ( Jenkins, Rasbash, Leckie, Gass, & Dunn, 2012).

Temper tantrums
Beginning in the second year of life and continuing over early childhood, the
expression of anger may take on dramatic features:

There are children who grunt and growl and those whose shrieks report-
edly sound to their parents like the cries of ‘a prehistoric bird.’ Parents have
told us about children who scream so loudly and so long that capillaries in
their cheeks burst and their eyes become bloodshot. Others scream until they
vomit or become rigid as statues with tension, even to the point of toppling
over if unsupported.
(Potegal & Davidson, 2003, p. 140)

This dramatic phenomenon is familiarly known as a temper tantrum.

Temper tantrums are commonly observed but only rarely have been studied. In
a telephone survey of 1219 families (Potegal & Davidson, 2003), over 80% of chil-
dren were reported to have at least one tantrum per month, although the frequency
of tantrums declined from 18 months to 5 years of age. Parents’ detailed narratives
about their children’s tantrums revealed that expressions of anger were at their
height at the beginning of the tantrum, followed by the emotionally upset chil-
dren’s attempts to seek comfort from the parents (Potegal, Kosorok, & Davidson,
2003). This suggests that extreme manifestations of anger soon merge into more
global distress and perhaps fear and sadness.
When in development do infants first show signs of temper tantrums? In our
longitudinal study of a community sample of firstborn infants (Hay et al., 2010), up
to three informants (mothers, fathers and a third person who knew the infant well)
reported on infants’ display of tantrums as well as angry moods (these two items
being significantly correlated). As would be expected, only 5% of parents reported
that their 6-month-old infants experienced temper tantrums; however, over one-
quarter of infants were reported to show tantrums sometimes, which suggests that
some early precursors to true tantrums are evident in the first year of life (see Fig-
ure 5.2). This in turn suggests that it would be possible to study the gradual emer-
gence of full tantrums, beginning in early infancy, and possible to predict which
infants are most likely to throw frequent tantrums.
Potegal and his colleagues (2003) have pointed out that temper tantrums encom-
pass two different patterns of behaviour: distress (e.g., crying, screaming and seeking
 Anger 59

70
60
50
40 Mother
%
30 Father

20 Other

10
0
No Somemes Oen
FIGURE 5.2 Percentage of mothers, fathers and other family members reports of infants’
temper tantrums at 6 months of age
Source: Hay et al. (2010)

comfort even in the middle of the tantrum) and physical expressions of anger
(which might take the form of hitting and kicking and grabbing things, as well as
showing overt distress). The two different patterns of tantrum behaviour appear to
have different correlates. In a study designed to test the two-factor model of tem-
per tantrums in a community sample of preschool children (Giesbrecht, Miller, &
Mȕller, 2010), the children were assessed with respect to their knowledge about
emotion and their emotional regulation in response to experimental challenges.
Their parents had reported on their tendencies to engage in different behaviours
during tantrums. The two patterns of distress and anger emerged as separate but
overlapping factors, which were both related to the children’s tendencies to react
emotionally to their experiences.

Verbal expressions of anger

Possession claims
In addition to the dramatic physical features of temper tantrums, purely verbal
expressions of anger are also evident in the toddler years, particularly in the context
of conflicts with siblings and peers. Initially, infants’ protests take the form of fret-
ting or full-blown crying, but, as they learn words, they may say ‘No!’ or ‘Don’t!’ to
their peers; they may also assert their ownership of particular possessions by saying
‘Mine! (Hay, Hurst et al., 2011). Thus by the second or third year of life, anger is
60 Anger

often expressed as a means of asserting possession rights and may be seen as a con-
structive verbal alternative to seizing objects from other children. In a short-term
longitudinal study of toddlers with familiar peers, those toddlers who were most
likely to say ‘Mine!’ were significantly more likely to share and less likely to display
aggression six months later (Hay, 2006).
Toddlers do not simply say ‘Mine!’ in response to every attempt on their pos-
sessions. Rather, they are more likely to make such claims when they actually own
the toy in question and when their mothers support them in asserting their rights
to its possession (Ross, 2013).

Insults, taunts and swearing

Children’s speech during conflicts often escalates beyond possession claims, being
used to insult, taunt or otherwise hurt other people emotionally, a form of behav-
iour that is associated with more physical forms of aggression and likely to lead to
negative reactions from other children (Olson, 1992).The distinction between seri-
ous taunts and playful teasing gradually emerges in later childhood (Keltner, Capps,
Kring,Young, & Heerey, 2001), but may still provoke angry retaliation from peers.
More research is needed to determine how often teasing is used in anger and when
it is used deliberately to provoke anger in another child.
Angry children also resort to swearing. Angry adults often use forbidden lan-
guage to express their feelings, and the fact that swearing is associated with limbic
system function and often retained in the context of brain injury and language
impairment suggests that it constitutes a very basic way of expressing verbal anger,
analogous to angry vocalisations in other primate species (Spinney, 2007). However,
children’s swearing differs across cultures; for example, in one study, Thai children
were more likely to swear than American children of the same age (Weisz et al.,
1989). Children themselves do not condone swearing and, at younger ages, are
likely to confuse it with another type of forbidden speech, telling lies (Peterson,
Peterson, & Seeto, 1983). In recent online discussions of the Finnish Children’s Par-
liaments, the children agreed that both swearing and lying were ‘stupid’ and tended
to lead to undesirable consequences (Tuukkanen, Kankaanranta, & Wilska, 2013).

Verbal quarrels and arguments

An argument is a purely verbal form of social conflict, characterised by an initial
event, an opposition and a reaction to being opposed (Maynard, 1985); this set of
events is equivalent to the initial action, opposition and further reactions that char-
acterise young children’s largely nonverbal conflicts with other people (e.g., Hay &
Ross, 1982). Thus when children begin to acquire language, they express their
opposition to other people’s behaviour or requests with words, without necessarily
resorting to overt expressions of anger or use of force. An example of two previ-
ously unacquainted toddlers arguing about whether to hold a tea party or put the
play food items away is shown in Table 5.1.
 Anger 61

TABLE 5.1 A verbal argument between two 3-year-old boys

Child A: ‘Hey, where’s the fire? Where’s the fire?’

Child B: ‘The fire’s over there . . . that fire’s out.’
Child B: (speaking to everyone) ‘Look, my water’s tipped . . .’
Child A: ‘Your water’s tipped?’
Child B: ‘In there, let’s put the cups away now . . . let’s put the cups away now . . . let’s put
the cups away now.’
Child A: ‘Cups are for tea party, cups are for tea party.’
Child B: ‘I just need to put the cups away.’
Child A: ‘No, I just want a tea party.’
Child B: ‘No, I just want to put the cups away.’
Child A: ‘Can I have some, I want a tea party?’

This example suggests that even quite young children may engage in conflict
over ideas, asserting their needs and desires without becoming angry; however, for
many children and indeed adults, there is always the possibility that purely verbal
arguments will descend into more physical conflict. However, in preschool class-
rooms, the early use of verbal objections, as opposed to more physical means of
expressing anger or pure venting of emotion, was associated with the development
of positive social skills and inversely related to behavioural problems (Eisenberg
et al., 1999). It is therefore of interest to examine the biological aspects of anger that
may constrain children’s abilities to use verbal skills to make their protests.

Biological underpinnings of children’s anger

Some researchers have tried to study what young infants feel on the inside when
they are frustrated or expressing anger. One approach to this question is to take
physiological measures as well as using direct observation when infants find that
their goals are blocked (e.g., Lewis, Ramsay, & Sullivan, 2006). Frustrating situa-
tions that arise when infants can’t pursue their goals may evoke sadness as well as
anger (see Chapter 6 for an extended consideration of children’s sadness in response
to frustration). However, the physiological correlates of the two reactions may be
different. In one study, infants who expressed sadness in response to a frustration
task showed an increase in levels of the stress hormone cortisol, whereas those
who expressed anger showed higher heart rate (Lewis et al., 2006). However, other
researchers have reported that angry infants are likely to show higher levels of cor-
tisol in response to a stressful situation, being confronted with a strange robot (van
Bakel & Riksen-Walraven, 2004).
In later childhood, children’s reactions to frustration may be manifested in a
number of different channels, and behavioural and physiological reactions may
not always be correlated. Furthermore, children’s phenomenological experiences
of anger, as communicated in self-report measures, may not always be corrobo-
rated by other informants or behavioural observation (e.g., Casey, 1993). Measuring
62 Anger

physiological reactions may be particularly helpful in understanding the multifac-

eted expression of anger. For example, in a study of 8-year-old children in primary
school classrooms, teachers and children reported on the children’s angry aggres-
siveness, and the children were directly observed in the context of a competitive
game in which confederates acted in a way that might provoke angry reactions
(Hubbard et al., 2004). Children’s overt angry facial expressions and behavioural
signs of frustration were significantly related to their own self-reports of angry
aggression. Furthermore, the directly observed signs of anger were significantly
related to skin conductance reactivity. However, some of the results were puzzling:
Skin conductance was itself associated with heart rate reactivity, which was nega-
tively related to children’s self-reports of anger. These findings suggest that anger is
expressed in the body, but there may be subtle relationships amongst physiological
reactions, overt behaviour and more cognitive understanding of one’s own anger,
as revealed in self-reports. Most importantly, individual differences in any of these
features of anger are clearly apparent.

Individual differences in infants’ proneness to anger

Irritability and anger-proneness as dimensions

of temperament
Several different theories of infant temperament incorporate a dimension
related to the expression of general irritability, anger and/or intolerance of frus-
tration. For example, McDevitt and Carey (1978) described infants’ expression
of negative mood as ‘fussy-difficult.’ By the toddler years, ‘anger-proneness’ is
considered to be a feature of individual temperament (Goldsmith, 1996). How-
ever defined and measured, infants’ tendencies to be angry are stable over time
(Gartstein & Rothbart, 2003; Komsi et al., 2006). These individual differences
emerge almost as soon as infants develop the capacity to express anger. For
example, in our study, parents’ and family members’ ratings of infants’ angry
moods at 6 months of age (as depicted in Figure 5.1) significantly predicted
their ratings of the child’s tendency to experience angry moods two years later
(Hay et al., 2014).

Emotion regulation and inhibitory control

Some temperament theorists have focussed not just on the overall tendency for
some infants to express anger but also their emotion regulation abilities, in particu-
lar their abilities to regulate anger in response to frustration and other emotional
challenges.Thus, the children who express the most anger may be both more likely
to experience negative reactions to challenges and less able to cope with those
negative emotions. However, the conceptual distinction between the expression of
emotion and the regulation of emotion is not always clear; the fact that emotion
 Anger 63

is so difficult to define (see Chapter 1) makes this problem even worse (Cole,
Martin, & Dennis, 2004). In a conceptual analysis of emotion regulation, Cole
and her colleagues provide a very general definition – emotion regulation implies
that emotions undergo change – and also make a distinction between the act of
attempting to regulate emotion and the outcome indicating that emotion has been
regulated. In the latter case, there is not always an obvious distinction between the
expression of positive and/or neutral emotion and evidence for successful emotion
regulation. It is also useful to make distinctions between self-regulation and the
experience of having one’s emotions regulated by another person, especially a par-
ent or other caregiver (Cole et al., 2004).
Although developmental theorists sometimes speak of emotion regulation as a
general process, it appears to be somewhat easier for infants to regulate their anger
than their fear. In a study of 148 infants who were able to look at but not touch
attractive toys behind an impenetrable plastic barrier or, in a separate task, infants
who distracted themselves by looking away from the toys expressed less anger;
however, this distraction technique did not work when they were challenged by
fear-provoking toy dogs and spiders (Buss & Goldsmith, 1998).
The successful regulation of anger is thought to be related to broader self-
regulatory abilities, which develop rapidly during early childhood (e.g., Jones,
Rothbart, & Posner, 2003). Children’s abilities to control their anger are likely to be
related to more general inhibitory control, which cognitive and neuropsychologi-
cal theorists view in the context of executive function (EF) abilities. When study-
ing anger, it may prove useful to distinguish between ‘hot’ and ‘cool’ EF tasks, i.e.,
emotionally arousing tasks like delay of gratification or gambling tasks versus those
that demand cooler heads and cognitive flexibility, such as card-sorting tasks (e.g.,
Hongwanishkul, Happeney, Lee, & Zelazo, 2005). Young children who are able to
engage in ‘effortful control’ of their own behaviour, particularly when asked to wait
for a treat or refrain from touching forbidden objects, are less likely to show anger
(e.g., Kochanska & Knaack, 2003).
Inhibitory control abilities may be fostered in early parent-infant interac-
tion but may also be influenced by genetic factors. For example, a genetically
informative longitudinal study of twins who were observed between the first
and third birthdays showed that 3-year-olds who had better inhibitory control
abilities were less likely to express anger (Gagne & Goldsmith, 2011). However,
in that sample, 1-year-olds who expressed anger during laboratory frustration
tasks were significantly more likely to show better inhibitory control as 3-year-
olds. Comparison of two types of twins – monozygous (MZ) twins who were
genetically identical and dizygous (DZ) twins who on average shared half their
genes like any other pairs of siblings – revealed genetic influence on both anger
and inhibitory control. However, environmental effects were also apparent. Such
evidence for environmental influence draws further attention to the socialisa-
tion processes in families and the broader social world that influence children’s
anger.
64 Anger

The socialisation of emotion

Emotion socialisation by parents

Nancy Eisenberg and her colleagues proposed a tripartite model of the processes
in family life that promote children’s learning about and understanding of emotion
(Eisenberg, Cumberland, & Spinrad, 1998). They drew attention to parents’ reac-
tions to children’s emotional displays, parents’ discussions about emotion with their
children and parents’ own expression of emotion. Each of these socialisation pro-
cesses influences the development of anger. It should be noted, however, that whilst
these processes can be differentiated in the conceptual model, they co-occur when
parents and infants both display emotion and talk about what they’re feeling to each
other. It is perhaps helpful to distinguish what happens in the heat of the moment
when both parents and children are angry from the parent’s role as an ‘emotion
coach’ helping children deal with their anger (e.g., DeBaryshe & Fryxell, 1998).

Expressing and reacting to anger

We have already seen in Chapter 2 that parents react in variable ways when their
infants cry (e.g.,Wood & Gustafson, 2001), and that their reactions may differ if they
perceive their infants as angry or frustrated as opposed to hungry or in pain. Parents
also respond to infants’ facial expressions of emotion; one observation suggested
that parents responded immediately to about one-quarter of 3- and 6-month-olds’
expressions of anger (Malatesta & Haviland, 1982), but were less likely to respond
contingently to signs of pain. In that sample, infants’ own expressions of anger were
significantly more likely to lead to mothers’ expressed anger or concern than to
their expressions of interest or pleasure. Thus, even in the first half of the first year
of life, infants’ anger was contagious, provoking parents’ anger in return.
This pattern of parents’ differential reactions to emotional displays continues in
the childhood years. For example, when parents were asked to respond to scenarios
in which their children might show distress, some parents advocated comforting
their children, whereas others minimised the distress and others recommended
more punitive approaches (Eisenberg & Fabes, 1994; Eisenberg, Fabes, & Mur-
phy, 1996). In general, those children whose parents minimised expressions of dis-
tress were more likely to vent their emotions than discover constructive ways of
approaching problems that might make them upset. The overall pattern of findings
suggested that moderate sensitivity to distress coupled with a focus on how to solve
the problem was optimal.

Discussions about anger

Parents and children often discuss the child’s emotional experiences when remi-
niscing about past events in family life. For example, in a study of 70 preschool-aged
children (Fivush, Berlin, Sales, Menutti-Washburn, & Cassidy, 2003), mothers were
 Anger 65

asked to discuss past occasions when the child had experienced anger, sadness or
fear. Events that might provoke anger concerned conflict between the parent and
the child or between the child and other children, peers or siblings. In general,
mothers tended to talk in a less elaborate way about anger as opposed to fear, and
they were also more likely to suggest ways in which children’s fearful reactions
could be resolved, compared to ways in which the children could deal with anger.
In general, however, mothers had more elaborate conversations about emotion with
their daughters than with their sons.
Discussions about anger may also take place in real time in more emotionally
charged situations, when the child is reacting to a disappointing or frustrating event.
For example, in an experimental study of 4- to 9-year-old children, carried out in
the children’s own homes, the children were given a disappointing prize, such as a
pair of old socks or broken sunglasses (Morris et al., 2011). Children’s expression of
emotion and mothers’ behaviour were assessed. Mothers might attempt to distract
or comfort the child but also might try to reframe the disappointment, suggesting
useful things that might be done with the disappointing objects. Distraction was
more effective than comforting was in reducing the child’s anger. The reframing
discussions were successful in reducing the child’s anger only if child and mother
participated jointly in the discussions of how best to use such unattractive objects.
As we have seen in the previous chapter, psychologists have begun to employ a
sports metaphor, emotion coaching, to describe discussions about emotion between
children and parents, in which parents and their children talk through ways to
regulate anger and other negative emotions in particular situations (e.g., Hooven
et al., 1995). These researchers suggest that parents have ‘meta-emotion structures,’
that is, their own feelings and attitudes about emotion that influence the way they
respond to their children’s anger and other negative emotional displays (Hooven
et al., 1995). Depending on their own feelings and beliefs about emotion, parents
might coach their children to express anger, mask it, or suppress it entirely. Parents’
own awareness of emotion tends to promote better regulation of anger in their
children (e.g., Katz & Windeker-Nelson, 2004; Shortt, Stoolmiller, Smith-Shine,
Eddy, & Sheeber, 2010).

Parents’ own displays of anger

Parents’ own beliefs and feelings about emotion will of course be related to the
overt emotional reactions that they model, such as their own angry reactions to
their children and other family members. A study of emotional expression during
mother-child interaction (Denham & Grout, 1993) revealed that the more often
mothers expressed anger while interacting with their children, the less emotionally
positive the children were in the preschool setting. Longitudinal analyses show that
mothers’ expression of negative emotions predicts later anger and related behav-
ioural problems in children (Newland & Crnic, 2011).
However, links between mothers’ tendencies to express anger and their chil-
dren’s own displays of anger may emerge much earlier in development. In a study of
66 Anger

young mothers, angry, punitive mothers tended to have infants who are themselves
angry and noncompliant (Crockenberg, 1987). Our own study of a community
sample demonstrated that mothers’ anger during and prior to their pregnancies
predicts infants’ early signs of anger and aggressiveness at 6 months of age (Phillips,
2013).
Genetic as well as socialisation processes may foster links between parents’ angry
tendencies and their children’s own expressions of anger and associated behavioural
problems. A genetically informative adoption study showed that adoptive parents’
expression of anger in their couple relationships and their use of harsh punishment
fostered anger in their children, but that association was enhanced if the child’s
biological mother had also been angry and aggressive (Rhoades et al., 2011). Thus,
parents’ expression of anger is a facet of emotion socialisation but also reflects bio-
logical transmission of angry temperament from one generation to the next.

Emotional socialisation in the context of sibling relationships

For many children, discussions with their parents about their angry feelings may
occur when siblings are present, and indeed the child’s anger may have been induced
during sibling conflict. In a detailed observational study of first- and second-born
children’s conversations with their mothers and siblings, the majority of mothers
and about one-quarter of children talked about anger; in that sample, children were
more likely to talk about their own feelings whilst mothers talked about different
people’s feelings in a given situation (Dunn, Brown, & Beardsall, 1991).
Siblings talk about emotion in the context of their play together; firstborn
children’s talk about emotions to their younger siblings appears to promote the
younger child’s abilities to take on the perspectives of others and generally more
friendly interaction (Howe & Ross, 1990). However, it is not just discussion about
emotion but each child’s expression of emotion that influences the quality of sib-
ling relationships. Younger siblings’ angry temperaments foster competitive rela-
tionships between siblings (Stocker, Dunn, & Plomin, 1989). Children report that
in the context of sibling relationships, in contrast to relationships with friends and
classmates, anger more often leads to physical harming of other children, which
in turn leads to high levels of guilt and remorse (Recchia, Wainryb, & Pasupathi,
2013). In general, then, the sibling relationship is a domain in which anger and
aggression are frequently displayed in the context of emotionally arousing conflict,
and thus it is an important arena for learning about the nature and consequences of
anger. A meta-analysis of relevant studies suggests that the quality of sibling conflict
has stronger effects on children’s feelings and behaviour than does more positive
features of the relationship such as sibling warmth (Buist, Dekovic, & Prinzie, 2013).
Another dimension of children’s experiences in family life affects the quality
of sibling relationships and the expression and understanding of anger: differential
treatment of siblings by the parents. Any discussion of this issue must begin with
the observation that apparent differential treatment may reflect the ages of the
 Anger 67

siblings; what may appear to the younger child to be highly inconsistent treat-
ment may actually be the way the elder child was treated at the same age. The
actual age and the quality of the behaviours shown by each child may influence
parents’ differential approaches to the siblings; for example, when older siblings are
showing high levels of negative emotion, parents may try to distract the younger
child whilst disciplining the older one (Kojima, 2000). Furthermore, differential
treatment of siblings is influenced by other sources of adversity in the family envi-
ronment (Meunier, Boyle, O’Connor, & Jenkins, 2013), and children’s anger and
aggressiveness may foster parents’ differential treatment, rather than the other way
around (Richmond & Stocker, 2008). Nonetheless, despite these caveats, children’s
perception of differential treatment by the parents may heighten the rate of conflict
between the siblings and thereby increase their levels of anger.
Differential treatment can take different forms, not all of which are present in
a given family: parents’ differential enjoyment of their relationships with each sib-
ling, favouring one child over the other, and differential types of discipline used
with each sibling (Volling & Elins, 1998). Each form of differential treatment may
reflect different family processes; for example, conflict in the couple relationship
may induce favouritism (Volling & Elins, 1998). Analyses of a relatively large sam-
ple of Canadian families revealed that children are not just sensitive to differential
treatment but to differences in the extent to which both parents show differential
treatment; the two parents do not always favour the same child, particularly in the
context of their own problems in the couple relationship (Meunier, Bisceglia, &
Jenkins, 2012). In that sample, the impact of differential treatment on children’s
protests and oppositional behaviour also depended on age gap between the chil-
dren. With a larger age gap, some favouritism toward younger siblings reduced
their oppositional behaviour; with a smaller age gap, a more balanced treatment
of the siblings led to less opposition. However, differential treatment is associated
with parents’ own levels of hostility and anger, which may have direct effects on
children’s own anger, regardless of what they perceive is happening to their siblings
( Jenkins et al., 2012).

Cultural influences on emotion socialisation

Do the dimensions of emotion socialisation identified by Eisenberg and her col-
leagues apply across cultures? Parents in different cultures may react to their chil-
dren’s anger in different ways, depending on the norms regarding appropriate
behaviour for children in those cultures. These culturally influenced reactions may
lead to different amounts of discussion of children’s feelings, and the discussions that
do take place may focus on different issues. Furthermore, to the extent that parents
have been socialised within their own cultures, they may be more or less likely to
express anger and other primary emotions.
For example, mothers’ conversations about children’s emotions differed in two
samples, each using the same experimental protocol, in Boston, Massachusetts,
68 Anger

USA and Beijing, China (Wang, 2001). In both samples, 3-year-old children and
their mothers were asked to talk about past emotional events in which the child
experienced happiness, sadness, fear and anger. In their conversations the American
mothers were more likely than the Chinese mothers to offer explanations for the
child’s experience of these emotions, including anger. However, in both cultures the
mothers provided more explanations of emotion to their daughters than their sons.
The Chinese mothers were more likely than the American mothers to be didactic,
telling their children how to react emotionally and drawing a moral lesson from the
experience; such didactic talk was especially frequent when the mothers and the
children were talking about anger.
It is important not to draw sweeping conclusions about cultural differences in
relatively small and perhaps not representative samples. It is also important to note
that there may be marked differences in emotional socialisation within as well as
between cultures. For example, in a comparison of a suburban sample with an old
city sample from the Indian state of Gujarat (Raval & Martini, 2009), mothers from
the old city were less likely than suburban mothers to find their toddlers’ expression
of anger (as opposed to the expression of physical pain) to be acceptable. Indeed,
the old city mothers reported that their child’s expression of anger would make
them feel angry, and they were more likely than the suburban mothers to punish
children’s expressions of anger. In general, however, both samples of mothers were
less likely to support children’s problem-focussed coping with anger than with
other negative emotions.

Is a child’s excessive anger a clinical condition?

Parents’ negative reactions to children’s expressions of anger may be subject to
cultural influence, but mutual anger between parents and children may be seen in
any culture. Although some degree of parent-child conflict is inevitable, in extreme
cases angry, defiant children are seen as suffering from a clinical disorder. Much past
research on this topic drew upon the diagnostic definitions set out by the American
Psychiatric Association in the fourth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual
(DSM-IV), which set out diagnostic criteria for Oppositional-Defiant Disorder
(ODD), which in the latest version of the manual (DSM-5; American Psychiatric
Association, 2013) is subsumed into a broader category along with Conduct Dis-
order (CD) and other problems of impulse control. However, the research on the
former category of ODD reveals the central importance of anger in the develop-
ment of these problems.
Representative epidemiological samples in which children’s psychological prob-
lems were systematically assessed suggested that about one in ten children experi-
enced ODD (e.g., Nock, Kazdin, Hiripi, & Kessler, 2007).Very angry, oppositional
children are likely to have other psychological problems. The disruptive behaviour
disorders (ODD, CD, ADHD) commonly co-occur, and in clinical practice they are
not infrequently confused with each other. Furthermore, children with symptoms
of ODD may also experience anxiety disorders and are at risk for later depression
 Anger 69

(Rowe, Costello, Angold, Copeland, & Maughan, 2010). Therefore, the pathways
from fear to anxiety disorders discussed in the last chapter and from anger to ODD
discussed in this chapter may actually overlap. Furthermore, both fear and anger
pathways may overlap with a pathway from sadness to depression, which we will
examine in the next chapter.
6
SADNESS

As we have seen in the previous chapter, some children make angry protests when
their goals are blocked or they are otherwise frustrated. Other children may respond
to frustration with sadness rather than anger. Such children may perceive no realistic
way of pursuing their goals in the present circumstances and give up their efforts to
reach those goals. In other words, expressions of sadness as opposed to anger might
reflect acceptance of the status quo, a kind of mental flight-versus-fight response.
Developmental psychologists have attempted to define characteristic facial expres-
sions that suggest children are feeling sad, such as lowered eyebrows, downcast eyes,
turned-down corners of the mouth and possible tears (Figure 6.1).

FIGURE 6.1 The characteristic facial expression associated with sadness

 Sadness 71

To the extent that sadness reflects reality testing, it is not always maladaptive
(Cole, Luby, & Sullivan, 2008). However, at extreme levels, children’s pervasive sad-
ness may affect many other dimensions of their psychological functioning. In this
chapter we ask when children first begin to express sadness, explore the evidence
for factors that promote children’s sadness and examine the relationship between
the ordinary experience of sadness and children’s clinically significant depression.

The first signs of sadness in infancy

Expressions of sadness are the least common of infants’ expressions of emotion
(Izard et al., 1995) and, perhaps because they are relatively rare, it is not always easy
for observers to distinguish sadness from other negative emotions (Oster et al.,
1992). Observers may be good at recognising that the infant is distressed but less
good at identifying a particular negative emotion like sadness (Camras & Shutter,
2010). Computer modelling suggests that observers recognise pain more accurately
than sadness (Pal, Iyer, & Yantorno, 2006).
Infants may communicate their sadness vocally as well as through their facial
expressions. Studies of children’s temper tantrums suggest that sadness is signalled
by whining and fussing, whereas shouting and squealing indicate more intense
anger (Green, Whitney, & Potegal, 2011). Different patterns of brain activation are
found when infants’ facial expressions of sadness are accompanied by full crying;
sad expressions without crying are linked to activation of the left frontal lobe, but
sadness that is accompanied by crying is associated with right frontal activation
(Fox & Davidson, 1988). These findings suggest that infants’ and young children’s
experiences of negative emotion result in expressions of discomfort across differ-
ent channels of communication. Closing and widening of the eyes seems to be a
mechanism whereby infants communicate the intensity of their negative emotions
to other people (Messinger, Whitney, Mahoor, & Cohn, 2012).

Infants’ responses to the withdrawal of their

caregivers’ attention
It may be easier to determine whether infants are feeling sad, fearful or angry
when the context is one that might be expected to provoke sadness, e.g., physical
or psychological separation from their caregivers.This possibility has been explored
through use of an experimental procedure known as the ‘still face paradigm,’ which
was first designed as a way of simulating the behaviour of depressed mothers
(Cohn & Tronick, 1983). In the still face procedure, mothers are asked to interact
with their infants as they normally might do, and then freeze their faces for a min-
ute, not responding to the infant’s signals. This procedure often puzzles infants, and
some become extremely distressed. Six-month-old infants’ reactions to the still face
procedure – whether they smiled or cried while their mothers were presenting a
still face – predict later psychological problems at 12 months old (Moore, Cohn, &
Campbell, 2001). Infants who failed to cry were less likely to experience emotional
72 Sadness

problems than other infants, whereas those who smiled were more likely to develop
behavioural problems.

Infants’ sad responses to frustration

Infants’ expressions of sadness may also be seen under frustrating conditions, such
as the extinction phase of the operant learning experiment already discussed in
Chapter 5 (Lewis et al., 1992). In this experiment, infants learned to pull on a string
to get a contingent event, a three-second presentation of a photo of a smiling baby
accompanied by the theme song from the television programme Sesame Street. Each
infant was given the opportunity to learn to obtain the contingent event, followed
by a two-minute period in which pulling on the string did not lead to that event
(the extinction period) and finally a three-minute period in which the contingency
was reinstated and the infants could relearn the contingent behaviour. Their facial
expressions were coded during the extinction period. Half of the infants tested
showed both anger and sadness expressions during extinction; 31% expressed only
anger and 17% only sadness, with one infant not bothered by the withdrawal of the
contingency. Infants who showed anger (unmixed with sadness) during the extinc-
tion period showed more overt joy when the contingency was reinstated. These
individual differences were not predicted by behaviour during the original learning
phase. These findings suggest that angry as opposed to sad responses to frustrating
circumstances may influence later emotions and behaviour, even in infancy.

Sadness in childhood

The experience of sadness

At a somewhat older age, children express sadness in response to disappointment,
i.e., when they have been led to expect a positive experience or event that does
not materialise. For example, in an experimental study, 4- to 5-year-old children
were asked by a researcher to select possible prizes from a range of possibilities
(Cole, Zahn-Waxler, & Smith, 1994). A second researcher then asked each child to
perform a task and awarded a prize; the prize given was the child’s lowest ranked
choice. The children’s facial expressions and emotion regulation strategies were
assessed, both when the child was left alone and when the second researcher was
present, to see if children who expressed their negative emotions when they were
alone masked their disappointment in the researcher’s presence. The children were
more likely to express joy after receiving an undesirable prize when the researcher
was present. Their reactions were more honest when the researcher was not in the
room. These negative reactions included anger as well as sadness, which was par-
ticularly true for boys who were at risk for behavioural problems.
Interview studies allow researchers to move beyond the direct observation of
facial expressions and assess children’s own interpretations of their negative emo-
tions. Such studies suggest that older children report an increased understanding
 Sadness 73

of sadness as part of one’s personal experience; when shown drawings of children

along a continuum of sadness from slightly downhearted expressions to full-blown
crying, 7-year-olds were more likely than 5-year-olds to attribute such feelings to
themselves (Glasberg & Aboud, 1982).
During that period in development, children also show a change in their under-
standing of the events that might provoke sadness as opposed to other negative
emotions. In a longitudinal study of British children interviewed at 4 and 7 years
of age, the children were asked to look at faces (allegedly gender-neutral) showing
the typical facial expressions of happiness, anger, sadness or fear (Hughes & Dunn,
2002). The interviewers pointed to each face and asked the children to say what
kinds of things might make them feel the same way. Their answers were coded for
references to particular agents that might have provoked the emotion in question
and for general themes. Analysis of the themes revealed that at 4 years of age, in
response to the picture of the sad face, the children reported that they might feel
that way in response to aggression, conflict or frustration, or loss of a person or a
pet. By 7 years of age, children predominantly said that they would feel that way in
response to loss.

Managing sadness
As is the case with other negative emotions, children gradually become aware of the
rules in their cultures and families that govern the display of sad feelings.They learn
that some ways of expressing sadness are more socially acceptable than others. For
example, in an interview study of primary school-aged North American children,
the children reported that verbal expressions of sadness were the most acceptable,
sulking and physically aggressive behaviour the least (Shipman, Zeman, Nesin, &
Fitzgerald, 2003).
Within families, mothers and fathers may respond differently to children’s
expressions of sadness, but that may also depend on the child’s age and whether the
child in question is a boy or a girl. For example, when reminiscing about the child’s
past, parents tend to mention sadness more often with their daughters than their
sons (Adams, Kuebli, Boyle, & Fivush, 1995). In a study of parents’ reports of ways
in which they would manage their children’s negative emotion (Cassano, Perry-
Parrish, & Zeman, 2007), fathers were more likely than mothers to report that they
would tend to minimise the intensity of their children’s expressions of sadness, for
example, suggesting that the child not see the event as a ‘big deal.’ However, moth-
ers of older children used more minimising strategies, whereas fathers used fewer.
Mothers were more likely than fathers to report they would encourage their chil-
dren to use problem-solving strategies to cope with their sad feelings.
These differences between mothers’ and fathers’ reactions to children’s expres-
sions of sadness appear to transcend culture. For example, in a study of two com-
munities in Gujarat, India (Raval, Martini, & Raval, 2007), children reported
that in general their parents believed that expressions of physical pain were more
acceptable than expressions of anger or sadness. However, the children reported
74 Sadness

that expressions of sadness were more acceptable in the presence of mothers than
fathers, and indeed more acceptable in front of peers than in front of their fathers.
As children grow older, the expression of sadness in the presence of peers may
grow less acceptable, particularly for boys. In a study of North American 13-year-
olds, boys were more likely than girls to report that they would be likely to inhibit
their expressions of sadness in front of peers (Perry-Parrish & Zeman, 2011). In that
sample, reports from classmates on a peer nomination task revealed that those boys
who did not inhibit their expressions of sadness were less likely to be accepted by
their peers.

Sadness, dysphoria and depressive illness in childhood

As we have seen, individual differences in the expression of sadness versus anger in
response to frustrating circumstances are already evident in infancy (Lewis et al.,
1992). But does children’s sadness in response to frustration lead to a sense of
learned helplessness, which is itself a risk factor for clinical depression?

Rates of depression in childhood and adolescence

For many years, clinicians thought it inappropriate to diagnose depression in child-
hood, believing that children were too cognitively immature to experience such
a complex emotion (Angold, 1988). However, in the last few decades, it has been
increasingly recognised that a minority of children do experience depressive illness
and that it is possible to apply diagnostic criteria developed for adults in the child-
hood and adolescent years.
Clinical depression is diagnosed on the basis of a complex set of symptoms that
extend beyond the experience and expression of sadness. However, in the Diagnostic
and Statistical Manual (DSM) used by many clinicians and researchers in psychiatry
and psychology, dysphoria and/or loss of interest in one’s usual activities is the key
symptom that must occur before a diagnosis of depressive illness can be made. At
least one of these features – feelings of extreme sadness/dysphoria or loss of inter-
est in things that one enjoys – must be present, with at least five other symptoms,
to meet these diagnostic criteria (American Psychiatric Association, 2013). When
the criteria are applied, it has been estimated that 2% of preschool children experi-
ence clinically significant depression, with over one in ten adolescents experiencing
depression (Hankin, 2015).
These prevalence rates differ somewhat from sample to sample. For example, in
a longitudinal study of a largely working-class sample of British children who were
born in South London, parents and children were both interviewed when the child
was 11 and 16 years of age (Pawlby, Hay, Sharp, Waters, & O’Keane, 2009). The
prevalence of Major Depressive Disorder (MDD) was 4.2% at age 11 and 14.3%
at age 16. In our own longitudinal study of firstborn children born in Cardiff,
Wales, 7% of 6- to 7-year-olds met the diagnostic criteria for at least one episode
of depressive illness.
 Sadness 75

There is much debate about whether or not contemporary children and ado-
lescents are experiencing higher levels of depression, compared to past generations.
A meta-analysis of studies drawing on different birth cohorts found no evidence for
a current epidemic of depressive illness (Costello, Erkanli, & Angold, 2006). How-
ever, more recent analyses of large cohort studies undertaken in the last few decades
do suggest that the rate of adolescents’ emotional problems, including depression, is
on the increase, with the strongest evidence coming from high-income countries;
evidence for a rise in emotional problems in younger children is less compelling
(Collishaw, 2015).

Features of depression in childhood

As we have seen, depression occurs at lower rates in childhood than in adolescence.
Does childhood depression also differ in its qualitative features from depressive ill-
ness that occurs at older ages?
In a clinical study of 3- to 6-year-old North American children who had been
recruited from primary care and specialist mental health clinics, three groups of
children were compared: (1) those with at least two symptoms of depression,
(2) those with at least two symptoms of either Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity
Disorder (ADHD) or Oppositional-Defiant Disorder (ODD) and (3) those who
showed no clinical symptoms (Luby et al., 2003). The children showing depressive
symptoms were more likely to come from families with lower incomes, to have
parents who were not legally married and to have been exposed to more stressful
life events. Compared to the other two groups, they were more likely to show a
range of symptoms of depressive illness, including appetite problems, sleep prob-
lems, low energy, problems concentrating, low self-esteem and preoccupation with
thoughts about death. They were more likely than children in the other groups
to have a range of health problems. Furthermore, they showed very distinctive
emotional responses to frustration.
As we have seen in the previous chapter, in the preschool years, children may
experience temper tantrums. However, the tantrums shown by children who are
experiencing depressive symptoms differ qualitatively from ‘ordinary’ tantrums.
Depressed children’s tantrums are more violent and more often involve self-harm.
Depressed children take longer to recover from their tantrums, and afterwards they
are more likely to be very distressed about having had a tantrum, sometimes show-
ing signs of shame and guilt (Cole et al., 2008).

Precursors and predictors of sadness and

depression in childhood
Individual differences in sadness and in clinically significant depression may both
originate in infancy. Irritability in infancy, as described in Chapter 2, is a predic-
tor of sadness in childhood, as shown in a longitudinal study of Finnish children
(Komsi et al., 2006). Fearful temperament interacts with family life events and
76 Sadness

mothers’ negative feedback to their children to predict a depressogenic cognitive

style in middle childhood (Mezulis, Hyde, & Abramson, 2006). In such studies, it is
important to consider the parents’ own mental health and the possibility of trans-
mission of sadness and depression from one generation to the next. Parents’ own
experience of depressive illness may lead to a parenting style that fosters sadness and
depression in their children.
Even brief experimental manipulations of parents’ emotions may influence
infants’ behaviour. For example, in a study of 9-month-olds, mood-induction pro-
cedures were used to influence the affect displayed by mothers (either joy or sad-
ness). When mothers had been induced to feel sad, their infants were less likely to
express joy and somewhat more likely to express sadness (Termine & Izard, 1988).
Parents’ own experience of depression leads to changed behaviour with their
infants. Infants who have been exposed to mothers’ postpartum depression tend
to experience interaction with their mothers that is somewhat less infant-focussed
and more likely to feature expressions of negative emotion from both mother and
infant (Cooper, Tomlinson, Swarz, & Woolgar, 1999; Murray, Kempton, Woolgar, &
Hooper, 1993). Those infants who are exposed to mothers’ depression are at ele-
vated risk for depression themselves as adolescents (Halligan, Murray, Martins, &
Cooper, 2007). However, this may be due to genetic risk as well as to the exposure
to their depressed mothers’ displays of sadness and other negative emotions. It is also
possible that infants who are at genetic risk for depression are particularly affected
by the emotions displayed by their parents and other caregivers.
Taken together, findings from studies of childhood depression suggest that there
is a developmental pathway from irritable and fearful temperament in infancy to
sadness in childhood that, in some individuals, consolidates into a lifelong vulner-
ability to depression. To the extent that depression is known to run in families, the
child’s genetic heritage intertwines with patterns of family interaction that may
foster sadness and depressive thinking.
7
HAPPINESS, JOY AND ELATION

Bridges’ theory of the early differentiation of emotion claimed that the infant’s
initial capacity for delight began to transform into signs of elation and joy over
the first two years of life (see Figure 1.1). Furthermore, as infants grow older, they
begin to find certain events funny; they also learn how to make other people laugh.
Older children gradually come to a broader understanding of what it means to be
happy. However, just as we know much more about infants’ crying than about their
laughter, we know more about older children’s and adolescents’ capacities for fear,
anger and sadness than about their experiences of joy and happiness.
Compared to negative emotions, the feeling of happiness is associated with a
distinct pattern of brain activation (e.g., Reiman et al., 1997). However, there are
several different types of positive emotion, beyond general happiness. Some inves-
tigators have attempted to identify specific facial expressions associated with dif-
ferent positive emotions. For example, in an experiment in which young adults
were asked to remember occasions when they felt particular emotions and try to
make expressions that reflected those feelings, distinct patterns of facial expression
were identified for three positive emotions: awe, pride and amusement (Shiota,
Campos, & Keltner, 2003). Attempts to express awe were associated with raised eyes
and somewhat raised eyebrows, suggesting that this form of positive emotion incor-
porated an element of surprise. Pride and amusement were both associated with
smiling, but more tight-lipped smiling in the case of pride and more exaggerated
‘play face’ smiling in the case of amusement. The origins of these various shades of
happiness lie in infancy and early childhood.

Pleasure in one’s achievements

Even in the first two years of life, infants’ successful accomplishment of tasks is
often accompanied by signs of pleasure, sometimes referred to as ‘mastery smiles’
78 Happiness, joy and elation

(Kagan, 1981). Acquiring new skills may also induce infants’ signs of happiness. For
example, infants who have just learned to crawl show an increase in signs of hap-
piness, although it declines after the infants have grown used to crawling (Zachry
et al., 2015).
Children appear to be especially pleased when they succeed in tasks that pose
some difficulty. For example, when toddlers are presented with puzzles that vary
from easy to moderately difficult to very difficult, they are likely to persist longer
at the moderately difficult puzzles; in general, 36-month-olds showed significantly
more signs of pleasure than did younger toddlers, but they were least likely to show
pleasure when faced with puzzles that were too easy (Redding, Morgan, & Har-
mon, 1988). Toddlers’ sense of pride in their own achievements can be expressed in
different ways, beyond their ‘mastery smiles,’ for example, by their posture, by break-
ing into applause at their own behaviour, or by making verbal remarks such as ‘I
did it!’ (Kelley, Brownell, & Campbell, 2000). However, in one sample of 3-year-old
British children, smiling was more common than overt self-congratulation (Reiss-
land, 1994). In another sample of 3-year-olds, the children were more likely to
show signs of pride on difficult as compared to easy tasks (Lewis et al., 1992).
By around 4 years of age, children can recognise other people’s expressions of
pride, although their ability to recognise this positive emotion and discriminate it
from surprise and general happiness improves further with age (Tracy, Robins, &
Lagattuta, 2005). However, even in middle childhood, children sometimes confuse
body postures that are associated with pride with those that signify anger (Nel-
son & Russell, 2012).

Amusement

The development of humour

We have already seen that infants laugh at things they find amusing. Infants not only
laugh at things they find amusing, but they also try to make their companions laugh
(see Chapter 2). However, the development of a sense of humour rests on both
social and cognitive foundations. During early childhood, children become increas-
ingly aware of incongruities in their environments, and they notice events that vio-
late people’s prior expectations. Such unexpected events might provoke surprise or
disgust or fear; under what circumstances do unusual events make children laugh?
Mutual laughter and silliness is an important component of parent-infant rela-
tionships. Parents of young infants often do deliberately silly things, in an attempt
to get their infants to smile or laugh; absurd nonverbal behaviour shown by parents
is often referred to as ‘clowning’ (Reddy, 2001). In a study of a small sample of par-
ents who were asked to try to make their 3- to 6-month-old infants smile or laugh
(Mireault et al., 2012), clowning was a favoured technique, being shown more com-
monly than tickling or singing or book-reading. The older infants in the sample
were more likely to laugh and in some cases try to imitate the absurd actions, which
in turn made the parents laugh.
 Happiness, joy and elation 79

Sharing an understanding that some things are funny is an important compo-

nent of our personal relationships. Infants develop a sense of humour in the context
of experiences with the adults who care for them. In this way, infants learn to make
distinctions between jokes – deliberate attempts to be funny – and unintentional
mistakes (Hoicka & Gattis, 2008).Three-year-olds are more likely to laugh at events
that are intended to be funny; 2- to 3-year-olds begin to make their own jokes
(Hoicka & Akhtar, 2012).

Play and laughter with siblings and peers

Laughter and humour are important components of children’s interactions with
other children, including their siblings as well as peers. Across various cultures, chil-
dren play around with language to produce humour and engagement, telling jokes,
making puns and engaging in rhythmic chants and silly songs. When children are
conversing with other children, forms of humorous speech may also include non-
sense words, ‘wise guy’ comments and scatological remarks (Ely & McCabe, 1994).
These playful interactions provide opportunities for learning but also may induce
some conflict. Younger children may attempt to imitate their elder siblings’ word
play, not always accurately. For example, in a study of Canadian sibling pairs, the
older child’s proclamation of ‘Boop a Doop!’ was repeated by the younger sibling
imperfectly as ‘Froop a Doop!’ to which the elder child responded, ‘You can’t say it
very well!’ (Howe, Rosciszewska, & Persram, 2017). Children’s play with language
is often combined with motor play: for example, Thai children were observed to

FIGURE 7.1 Shared amusement in childhood

80 Happiness, joy and elation

ask each other humorous riddles about crabs and ghosts whilst spinning around a
room (Howard, 2009).
These playful interactions that children have with other children make impor-
tant contributions to their cognitive and emotional development. By playing and
engaging in humour in this way, they construct ‘shared meanings’ (e.g., Dunn, 1988;
Howe, Petrakos, Rinaldi, & LeFebvre, 2005); over time, sibling relationships and
friendships are built on the bedrock of a network of shared meanings unique to that
pair of siblings or friends. Children’s conversations during these playful interactions
provide an opportunity to acquire social understanding, as they make references
to each other’s mental states and motivations (e.g., Leach, Howe, & Dehart, 2015).

Children’s reflections on their general happiness

As children grow older, they become able to reflect on their own happiness (e.g.,
Huebner, 1991) and the happiness of other people whom they know. For example,
Canadian children were interviewed about their mothers’ emotions, being asked
how they could tell if their mothers were sad, angry or happy; they were also asked
what might cause their own sadness, anger or happiness (Covell & Abramovitch,
1987). Younger children tended to see themselves as the cause of their mothers’
happiness; older children drew attention to other people and abstract situations that
might induce happiness.
In middle childhood, children can reflect on various sources of happiness in
their lives. For example, in an interview study of 7- to 9-year-old Argentinian chil-
dren, the children attributed their happiness to experiences with family members,
friends and the pleasure of playing with their pets (Greco & Ison, 2014). Chil-
dren’s self-perceived happiness can serve as a protective factor in development, even
when the children are facing very difficult circumstances, such as life within war
zones. For example, the experience of positive emotion and a sense of well-being
helped Palestinian children cope with the effects of political violence on their lives
( Veronese & Castiglioni, 2015).

Exhilaration and elation

Can there be such a thing as too much happiness? Social psychologists have long
drawn attention to the phenomenon of emotional contagion (e.g., Hatfield,
Cacioppo, & Rapson, 1993), and generations of children who find themselves fall-
ing about with laughter have been warned that ‘There will be tears before sun-
set.’ Exhilaration combines positive emotion with excitement, being expressed by
laughter as well as smiling and various changes in posture (Ruch, 1993). Are such
extreme displays of positive emotion a sign of dysregulated emotion that poses
problems for children?
Signs of mania in adults who suffer from bipolar illness may begin with happy
excitement but end up in a psychotic state, often accompanied by self-destructive
behaviour. Bipolar illness is heritable and can manifest itself in childhood (Hunt,
 Happiness, joy and elation 81

Schwarz, Nye, & Frazier, 2016). Does this imply that high levels of elation and
exhilaration in childhood are signs of bipolar illness? Current work on bipolar ill-
ness suggests that its manifestations in childhood tend to take the form of general
irritability and depressed mood, with episodes of mania only emerging later in
adolescence (Hunt et al., 2016). However, the way mania manifests itself in child-
hood may differ both qualitatively and quantitatively from its manifestations in
later adolescence or adulthood (Geller et al., 2001), and so there would be value
in studying the phenomena of elation and exhilaration in middle childhood more
closely, in both high-risk and community samples.
8
AFFECTION, LOVE AND
JEALOUSY

As we have already seen, infants come into the world biased in favour of other
human beings. They are drawn to the sight of human faces and sensitive to the
properties of human voices, and, from the moment of birth onward, can express
emotion in a way that has direct effects on their companions. In the next months,
however, infants’ general abilities to express positive emotion transform into dis-
plays of affection for particular people, both adults and other children (Bridges,
1932). Infants begin to establish particular, emotionally significant relationships
with their caregivers – they develop attachments to the people who care for them.
Although John Bowlby (1969) argued that infants have an inbuilt tendency to be
monotropic, i.e., to form a particular attachment to the primary caregiver (usually,
though not always, the biological mother), infants do show affection and develop
attachments with other family members (Schaffer & Emerson, 1964), including
their siblings (Teti & Ablard, 1989). In humans, a species where child-bearing is
associated with considerable risk for maternal death, the ability to form attachments
to people other than the biological mother is unquestionably adaptive (Nash, 1995;
Smith, 1980).
However, infants who are cared for by a shifting number of impersonal or inad-
equate caregivers may not develop optimally. Even within institutional environ-
ments, focussed care by a single, dedicated caregiver can facilitate infants’ social
responsiveness (Rheingold, 1956). Nonetheless, the longer children stay in inade-
quate institutional care, the more likely it is that their cognitive and socioemotional
development will be compromised (Rutter, Kreppner, & O’Connor, 2001).
In view of these considerations, in this chapter, we shall focus on the infant’s
emerging capacity to feel and express affection to other people and the further
development of focussed attachment relationships.We shall then examine the claims
made about the consequences of these attachment relationships for the child’s later
emotional development.
 Affection, love and jealousy 83

Infants’ preferences for familiar companions

In early human development, familiarity does not breed contempt. Rather, the
capacity to love begins with the ability to recognise familiar people, and that ability
emerges soon after, if indeed not before, a child is born.

Newborn infants’ recognition of their mothers

Voice recognition
Human newborns are biased in favour of their own species, showing particular
interest in human faces and voices, as opposed to other stimuli.Their general affinity
for other human beings can be thought of as species recognition, which fosters their
interactions with other people who may care for their needs. Against that back-
ground of general interest in people, there is evidence that newborn infants already
may recognise the distinctive voices of the women who gave birth to them. Even
when they are still in the womb, infants’ hearts beat faster when listening to a passage
read by their mothers than by unfamiliar women (Kisilevsky et al., 2003). Shortly
after they are born, infants will work to hear their mothers’ voices, by sucking on a
plastic nipple that does not deliver milk (DeCasper & Fifer, 1980), particularly if the
mother is not whispering (Spence & Freeman, 1996). A study of newborns whose
brain activity was measured by electroencephalography (see Figure 8.1) showed that
the infants processed their mothers’ and unfamiliar women’s voices in different ways;
the authors describe this process as tuning the brain for specialised recognition of
familiar voices (Beauchemin et al., 2011).

FIGURE 8.1 An infant wearing the cap that measures EEG

84 Affection, love and jealousy

Odour recognition
In the days after birth, infants begin to recognise other things about their moth-
ers. For example, breast-feeding infants recognise their mothers’ distinctive smell
(Cernoch & Porter, 1985).

Displays of affection
But when does preference turn into love? One way to address that question is to
examine infants’ own displays of affection for familiar people, showing that the
presence of the parent or other familiar person brings comfort and pleasure.
Bridges’ original observations of the progression of emotional development
(Figure 1.1) showed that, even in the institutionalised population that she was stud-
ying, infants began to show affection to other people around 12 months of age
(Bridges, 1932). However, a longitudinal study of affection between infants and
parents suggests that infants’ expressions of affection become more common after
the second year of life, with children’s expression of affection to their mothers and
fathers occurring at comparable rates (Barry & Kochanska, 2010). Toddlers express
affection to familiar people with cries of joy, hugs and cuddles (Banham, 1950).
Such displays of affection to others are common in 18-month-olds, both those who
are showing neurotypical development and those with autism spectrum disorders
(Barbaro & Dissanayake, 2013).
Young children’s considerable knowledge about how to provide affection to
others is evident in their imaginative play, in which they show affection to their
dolls and teddies, and often imitate the role of a loving caregiver; in one study,
naturalistic observations of young children at home revealed affectionate treatment
of dolls, infant siblings and pets, and very little in the way of punitive behaviours
(Rheingold & Emery, 1986). Many children report feeling great affection for their
family pets (Triebenbacher, 1998).
Longitudinal analyses suggest that individual differences in displaying affection
to parents emerge in the childhood years. Children’s own displays of affection-
ate behaviour are likely to be a reflection of their own receipt of affection from
their parents, with reciprocal levels of affection being observed over time (Barry &
Kochanska, 2010). Parents’ provision of affection may reflect the parents’ memo-
ries of affectionate behaviour from their own parents (Bronson, Katten, & Livson,
1959). Children’s attachments to parents are often formed in the context of affec-
tionate, caring relationships across generations of family members (Main, Kaplan, &
Cassidy, 1985).

Jealousy
Jealousy has been defined as ‘a normal response to actual, supposed or threatened
loss of affection’ (Vollmer, 1946, p. 660). In the context of Bridges’ (1932) differen-
tiation theory, jealousy is one of the negative emotions that emerges from general
 Affection, love and jealousy 85

distress (see Figure 1.1).Within children’s early development, one of the first sources
of jealousy may be caregivers’ interactions with other people, particularly siblings.
Some investigators have argued that, under some conditions, signs of distress in
infancy could be interpreted as early forms of jealousy. For example, in one study,
mothers were instructed to divert their attention from their 6-month-old infants,
instead focussing on either a book or a lifelike doll that made characteristic infant
vocalisations when touched (Hart & Carrington, 2002). The infants looked at the
mother and showed positive affect at equal rates across the two conditions; however,
they were significantly more likely to show negative affect when their mothers
were paying attention to the lifelike doll.
In a follow-up experiment (Hart, Carrington, Tronick, & Carroll, 2004),
6-month-old infants’ facial expressions were coded for different emotions when
their mothers interacted with them and when they interacted with the lifelike doll,
as well as when the mother engaged in the still face procedure (see Chapter 6). In
contrast to periods where the mother and infant were interacting normally, the
infants showed more sadness and anger and less positive affect and interest when the
mother was interacting with the doll. Furthermore, the infants reacted as negatively
to the interaction with the doll as they did to the stress-provoking still face proce-
dure.These findings also suggest that the phenomenon of jealousy entails a blend of
different negative emotions and cannot be reduced to pure sadness or anger.
Such jealous reactions are also observed when children watch their mothers
interacting with other children, not just lifelike dolls. In a cross-sectional study,
where mothers were instructed to pay attention to other children rather than their
own, signs of jealousy specific to that procedure were seen from the second year of
life onwards (Masciuch & Kienapple, 1993). In that study, attention-seeking behav-
iour as well as negative affect indicated feelings of jealousy when mothers paid
attention to someone other than their own children.
At later ages, children express jealousy not just of someone else’s affection but
their attainments; this form of jealousy reflects the children’s comparison of them-
selves with others and potential resentment of other children’s achievements. For
example, children between 6 and 11 years of age were interviewed about their
views on stories about a child protagonist’s failures (Bers & Rodin, 1984). The sto-
ries about the protagonist’s failures either did or did not involve comparison with
another character. The children were asked to state what the protagonist might
think or feel, and what they might do, in response to the events of each story. The
children’s responses to the interviewers’ questions revealed a profile of jealous reac-
tions, in which social comparison was bound up with anger; this was particularly
true for the younger children in the sample.
As children form close personal relationships, they may experience jealousy;
they may also need to understand the manifestations of jealousy in others. In a study
that compared typically developing young adolescents with those who had been
given diagnoses of autism spectrum disorders (Bauminger, 2004), the investigators
sought evidence for the young people’s understanding of jealousy as depicted in
pictures, self-reports of situations in which they felt jealous, or reports of ways to
86 Affection, love and jealousy

cope with feelings of jealousy. In comparison with the typically developing sample,
the participants with diagnoses of autism, who were matched on cognitive ability,
reported qualitatively different ways of showing jealousy; they were also less likely
to recognise manifestations of jealousy in pictures. The use of a case-comparison
design, however, does not allow us to draw conclusions about the range of indi-
vidual differences in the understanding of jealousy in more broadly representative
community samples.

Attachment relationships
Within psychology, the development of love has primarily been discussed in the
context of the enduring influence of infants’ attachments to those adults who care
for them. Attachment is not a simple emotion or an individual trait; rather, it is a
developmental process whereby two people form a relationship with each other over
time. Both infants and their caregivers bring their own individual characteristics
and developmental histories to the formation of their mutual relationships.

The Bowlby-Ainsworth attachment theory

In the second half of the first year of life, when many infants develop strong prefer-
ences for their caregivers, individual differences in the quality of infants’ relation-
ships with their caregivers become apparent. These different patterns of attachment
relationships have been most often discussed in the context of attachment theory
(Bowlby, 1969; Ainsworth, 1969; Ainsworth, Blehar, Waters, & Wall, 2015). The
intellectual roots of attachment theory lie in John Bowlby’s experiences as a psy-
choanalytic psychiatrist, faced with the major humanitarian crisis of the displace-
ment of children after the second World War, coupled with his theoretical interest
in both ethology and cognitive science. Attachment theory was also advanced theo-
retically by Mary Ainsworth’s observations of infants with their parents in Uganda
and Baltimore, Maryland, which drew an emphasis on the construct of security, as
set forth by her mentor, the Canadian personality theorist William Blatz (1966).
The collaboration between Bowlby and Ainsworth at the Tavistock Clinic in
London led to a focus on the articulation of attachment theory and the develop-
ment of methods for its study.Whilst Ainsworth carried out studies of the normative
development of attachment, her focus soon turned to individual differences in the
quality of attachment relationships, which she characterised in terms of Blatz’s key
concept of security. In Ainsworth’s view, children did not fail to become attached
to their caregivers, but rather their experiences of those attachment relationships
felt more or less secure.

Exploration from a secure base

As we have seen in Chapter 3, human infants are interested in exploring their
environments, but they may also become frightened by the novel places and events
they encounter. Bowlby (1969) suggested that infants in attachment relationships
 Affection, love and jealousy 87

must balance their tendencies toward exploration with their tendencies to seek
comfort from caregivers, who provide a secure base from which to explore. After
some naturalistic observation of infants in the first year of life, Ainsworth developed
a standardised procedure for measuring individual differences in the security of
attachment, which she called the Strange Situation (Ainsworth et al., 2015). In a
laboratory procedure that takes less than 15 minutes, infants experience the oppor-
tunity to explore a new environment in the presence of their caregivers but also
meet unfamiliar people and experience two brief periods of separation from their
caregivers. Qualitative analyses of infants’ behaviour led to an initial distinction
between infants’ secure behaviour in the face of these challenges versus their mani-
festations of insecurity, which might take the form either of extreme independence
from and avoidance of their caregivers (subsequently referred to as avoidant attach-
ment), or more negative or ambivalent reactions when the caregivers returned after
separation (subsequently referred to as resistant attachment). Other procedures for the
measurement of attachment security have been developed, such as the Attachment
Q Set (Waters & Deane, 1985), but in the decades following Ainsworth’s initial
work, the Strange Situation became the primary paradigm in developmental psy-
chology for the study of attachment relationships and their predictive power with
respect to the child’s later development.

Is attachment security simply a reflection of the infant’s

temperament?
We have already seen in Chapter 2 that infants differ in their emotional expres-
siveness. Do those individual differences in temperament account for differences in
attachment relationships? Many studies have shown that secure attachment relation-
ships, as measured by Ainsworth’s Strange Situation procedure, are often predated
by sensitive caregiver-infant interactions in early infancy (e.g., De Wolff & van
IJzendoorn, 1997) and followed by positive outcomes in development (Ainsworth
et al., 2015). Some features of infant temperament, which can be measured by the
Brazelton Neonatal Assessment shortly after birth, predicted later security of attach-
ment (Waters, Vaughn, & Egeland, 1980). This finding raised the possibility that
some infants are more temperamentally suited to become securely attached than
others, and therefore individual differences in attachment security might reflect
more fundamental differences in temperament.
If the security of infant-parent attachment were merely a reflection of an indi-
vidual infant’s temperament, then it would seem likely that the infant’s relationships
with both their parents would be equally secure or insecure, as the case might be.
If, on the other hand, the security of attachment reflected the infant’s experiences
within a particular relationship, the infant might show security with the father but
not the mother, or vice versa. Some initial studies suggested that this was the case
(e.g., Main & Weston, 1981), which was taken as proof that attachment reflected
interpersonal relationships, not just temperament. However, in a meta-analysis of
studies that measured infants’ attachment to both their parents, there was substan-
tial concordance in attachment classifications across parents (Fox, Kimmerly, &
88 Affection, love and jealousy

Schafer, 1991), which strengthened the case for a link between temperament and
attachment.
More recently, a meta-analysis of 131 different samples of infants (Groh et al.,
2017) identified a specific association between the infant’s temperament and the
form of insecurity known as resistant attachment, which is characterised by an
ambivalent response in the Strange Situation when the mother returns after a brief
separation. In contrast, there was less evidence for a link between the infant’s tem-
perament and the avoidant pattern of attachment, where the infant shows more
independent play and is less upset by meeting a stranger or the brief separations
from the mother. In general, the development of an attachment relationship may
be affected by the infant’s temperament, but the concept of attachment does not
simply reduce to that of individual temperament. As is the case in all love relation-
ships, infant-parent attachment refers to a dynamic two-person relationship, not just
one person’s temperament.
Furthermore, the security of infants’ relationships with their caregivers is not
necessarily stable over time, which is what might be expected if security were
simply due to individual differences in temperament. Rather, attachment relation-
ships may change over time, in relation to their circumstances. Although there is
a tendency to think that a secure attachment relationship in infancy somehow
inoculates the child against subsequent adversity in life, the security of attachment
relationships can increase or decrease over time. In the face of change in family
circumstances, some children become less secure and others become more secure
(e.g., Hamilton, 2000; Weinfield, Sroufe, & Egeland, 2000). The quality of attach-
ment relationships seems most likely to remain stable when children remain in the
same environment. However, as children grow older and, especially, seek to define
themselves over later childhood and adolescence, their attachments to their par-
ents may take a different shape over time. Does the teenager’s level of attachment
security simply change over the years of adolescence? Or does some fundamental
quality of the original attachment relationship established in infancy remain stable
over those years of growth and change?
These issues of change and continuity in adolescents’ attachment relationships
were investigated via an age-appropriate self-report questionnaire about attachment
style, which was given repeatedly over a five-year period, beginning when the teen-
agers were 14 years of age ( Jones et al., 2018). The participants showed consider-
able stability in their attachment styles over the five years of adolescence, but their
attachment styles were influenced by their ethnicity and by turmoil in their parents’
own love relationships.

Love and cognition: representations of

attachment relationships
Infants’ and toddlers’ signs of affection are often nonverbal, and their nonverbal
behaviour in the Strange Situation is used to characterise the security of their
 Affection, love and jealousy 89

attachment relationships. However, by the second year of life, the word ‘love’ has
entered their vocabularies (Bretherton, McNew, & Beeghly-Smith, 1981). Over the
years, John Bowlby’s influential theory of infant-parent attachment moved from a
consideration of ‘component instinctual responses’ to the concept of the ‘internal
working model,’ which drew attention to cognitive as well as affective and behav-
ioural aspects of infants’ relationships with their attachment figures (Bowlby, 1969).
In other words, the child’s experience of love for a caregiver is representational,
not simply emotional. Bowlby’s concept of the working model was influenced
by contemporary information-processing theory of adult memory and cognition
(Craik, 1943), as well as his background in psychoanalysis (see Bretherton, 1985,
for a discussion of the development of Bowlby’s ideas about the working model of
attachment).
Other attachment theorists have attempted to link the concept of a working
model to other cognitive processes. For example, Inge Bretherton (1985) proposed
that the child’s development of expectations of the caregiver’s behaviour could be
analysed in terms of script theory and the child’s acquisition of social knowledge. In
other words, as children grow older, they come to understand how close relation-
ships are supposed to work, almost like the script of a play where they needed to
learn the lines. Bretherton’s use of script theory to explain the cognitive dimen-
sions of attachment relationships has been extended by empirical studies in which
children are prompted to talk about their everyday experiences with caregivers.
These studies have demonstrated that children in different cultures have complex
representations of their security in their relationships with their parents (Vaughn
et al., 2007; Waters et al., 2015).
Children’s working models of their relationships with their caregivers endure
into young adulthood, and the nature of individuals’ working models are influ-
enced by the quality of their early relationships. For example, in a large sample from
a longitudinal study of children’s experiences in early child care settings, young
adults’ script knowledge about attachment relationships was predicted by their own
experiences of caregiving from both their mothers and fathers (Steele et al., 2014).
Taken together, these findings suggest that children’s love for those who care for
them is a complex social emotion that has both affective and cognitive dimensions
that consolidate over time.

Disorganised attachment relationships

In recent years, attachment researchers using Ainsworth’s Strange Situation para-
digm began to observe children whose reactions did not fit into the original coding
scheme. These children showed unexpected and sometimes mutually incompatible
reactions, such as ‘a) the complete absence of an apparent attachment strategy; b)
contradictory behaviours or affects occurring virtually simultaneously; c) freez-
ing, stilling, apparent dissociation; d) abnormal movements; or e) direct indices of
apprehension of the parent’ (Green & Goldwyn, 2002, p. 836). The rate of such
90 Affection, love and jealousy

‘disorganised’ attachment classifications is especially high in clinical samples and is

particularly high when children have been exposed to maltreatment (e.g., Carlson,
1998; Cicchetti & Doyle, 2016). As discussed in Chapter 4, some of the behaviours
associated with disorganised attachment are shown in fear-provoking contexts,
which suggests that the child’s disorganised behaviour is a response to frightening
behaviour shown by caregivers (Lyons-Ruth, Bronfman, & Parsons, 1999). How-
ever, factors within the child, including birth weight and genetic factors, may inter-
act with the parents’ treatment of the child to produce disorganised attachments
(Wazana et al., 2015).

Attachment disorders in childhood

In some cases, children’s attachment patterns are so aberrant that they have been
classified as childhood psychological disorders. Two different types of attachment
disorders are recognised in the DSM-5 diagnostic system: Reactive Attachment
Disorder and Disinhibited Social Engagement Disorder. Both tend to be seen in
the context of children’s adverse experiences, such as maltreatment or having been
brought up in institutions, but they differ in their symptoms and implications for
clinical interventions.
Reactive Attachment Disorder is diagnosed when children appear not to have
focussed attachments to their caregivers, coupled with other social and emotional
difficulties (Zeanah & Gleason, 2015). The diagnosis requires that the child have a
developmental age of at least 9 months, to rule out other maturational problems
that might make it impossible to form attachments.
In contrast, Disinhibited Social Engagement Disorder is diagnosed when a child
behaves toward unfamiliar people with inappropriate friendliness, a pattern of
behaviour that is particularly common for children who have spent their early lives
in group care in an institutional setting. The longer the time spent in the institu-
tional environment, the more likely it is that children will show such inappropriate
friendly behaviour (Rutter et al., 2010). These children can form focussed attach-
ments with adoptive parents, but their disinhibited behaviour often poses a problem
of keeping them safe in the outside world. This form of attachment behaviour is
sometimes correlated with other clinical conditions, such as Attention-Deficit and
Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) and autism spectrum disorders.
Although all children who have experienced adversity in infancy do not develop
these disorders, it is important to provide support for those who do. In particular, it
is important to support foster carers and adoptive parents who look after children
who have experienced trauma and chaotic circumstances in their past and may find
it difficult to learn how to love new people.
9
EMPATHY

So far we have discussed the developmental progression from infants’ early feelings
of distress and delight to the experience of different primary emotions, including
surprise, fear, disgust, anger and sadness.We now consider more complex emotional
experiences, sometimes referred to as social or moral emotions – emotions that are
bound up with children’s understanding of the social world. In this chapter we shall
examine the development of empathy, i.e., feeling and understanding what another
person feels. In common with the primary emotions described in the earlier chap-
ters, the developmental origins of empathy lie in the early months of life, although
cognitive dimensions of empathy develop over childhood. Empathy theorists make
a distinction between affective and cognitive empathy (e.g., Preston & de Waal, 2002).
Mature empathy entails both feeling for another person and understanding the
reasons why that person feels that way (Decety & Meyer, 2008). An accurate under-
standing of another person’s emotions rests on the ability to recognise emotional
signals and also comprehend the context in which the emotional signal is produced.
In other words, children come to understand why a person is laughing, crying, or
showing anger in a given situation.

The roots of empathy

At what point in development do we begin to feel what another person feels? And
at what point can it be said that we feel concern for that person? Some scholars
have pointed out that even young infants seem attuned to emotion, smiling when
another smiles (Field, Guy, & Umbel, 1985), crying when another cries (Sagi &
Hoffman, 1976). But is this form of emotional contagion the first step in the devel-
opment of true empathy?
92 Empathy

It has been argued that infants cry when they hear the cry of another infant
because they are confused – because they cannot really tell the difference between
themselves and other people (Darwin, 1877; Preyer, 1889). This idea of a blurred
boundary between self and other was set forth in psychoanalytic writings, both
in terms of Freud’s (1949) initial ideas about the ‘primary process’ of infancy and
Winnicott’s (1960) object relations theory, which held that there was ‘no such
thing as an infant’ – meaning that the infant did not perceive any boundary
between itself and its mother. Within this framework, infants might cry when
other people cried because they did not understand that they were not already
crying.
Hoffman (1975) argued that, over the course of infancy, this early form of vicari-
ous distress would gradually transmute into a more mature form of sympathetic
behaviour, where infants would not just get distressed themselves but would try to
comfort the person who was distressed. Thus, in Hoffman’s theory, contagion of
distress would be replaced by a more mature concern for others that was under-
pinned by cognitive understanding.Younger infants’ emotional reactions would not
yet qualify as true empathy.
More recently, the notion that infants are not able to tell the difference
between themselves and other people has been challenged. Infants can in fact
tell the difference between their own previously recorded cries and the cries of
another infant (Dondi, Simion, & Caltran, 1999) and between videos of them-
selves and other infants (Legerstee, Anderson, & Schaffer, 1998). Therefore, if
crying when another infant cries is not simply the consequence of confusion
between self and other, it can be examined as an early step on the pathway
toward empathy and compassion (Davidov, Zahn-Waxler, Roth-Hanania, &
Knafo, 2013).
An observational study of 6-month-olds’ responses to peers showed that the
longer the time one infant spent fussing or crying, the more likely it was that a
peer would break down and cry as well; in that sample, the infants responded to
the peer’s distress not just by becoming distressed themselves but by watching,
gesturing to and touching the other infant and turning their heads to look at the
peer’s own mother (Hay, Nash, & Pedersen, 1981). When 8- to 10-month-olds
observed distressed peers, they showed facial expressions and gestures that signi-
fied concern for the upset peers (Roth-Hanania, Davidov, & Zahn-Waxler, 2011).
Thus, these early reactions to another’s distress are not limited to contagious
crying.
The ‘baby biographers’ – early scholars who kept diaries about their children’s
development – have provided many anecdotal reports of young children becoming
distressed at the sight of the uncooked holiday turkey. For example,Wilhelm Stern’s
(1924) son wept and cried out ‘Poor turkey has no clothes!’ In general, children’s
earliest emotional reactions to overt and possible distress are not accompanied by
signs of confusion between themselves and others but rather by attempts to com-
prehend what might be the matter.
 Empathy 93

FIGURE 9.1 The early origins of empathy

Very young children’s reactions to people’s distress

Providing comfort in the face of distress

Many toddlers are sensitive to the occurrence of distress and sometimes try to help
or comfort the people who are distressed (Zahn-Waxler, Radke-Yarrow,Wagner, &
Chapman, 1992).The comfort offered may not always be appropriate for the recipi-
ent, as when a small child offers an adult her own teddy. Such instrumental attempts
to provide comfort to people who are distressed emerge by the second year of life,
around the time that toddlers often provide help to adults who are experiencing
practical difficulties (Warneken & Tomasello, 2006).Very young children have been
observed to behave prosocially in response to the distress of their parents (Zahn-
Waxler et al., 1992), siblings (Dunn & Munn, 1986) and peers (Lamb & Zakh-
ireh, 1997; Murphy, 1937). Young children’s prosocial responses to distress may go
beyond providing comfort; they may try to distract or share with or provide other
sorts of assistance (Demetriou & Hay, 2004).
When examining young children’s abilities to respond to distress with com-
fort or other prosocial actions, it is important to take into account the difference
between competence and performance. For example, in an observational study
of toddlers attending day care centres, 22% of the sample responded prosocially
to distress on at least one occasion, but only 3% of episodes of distress evoked
such prosocial responding (Lamb & Zakhireh, 1997). When 3- and 4-year-olds
were shown a video of a distressed classmate (Caplan & Hay, 1989), virtually all
made relevant suggestions about how the child could be comforted, thus showing
94 Empathy

appropriate knowledge about how to provide help in the response to distress; when
asked who should provide the help, they overwhelming suggested the teacher. In
that sample, most of the children had responded prosocially to a classmate’s distress
at least once, but did not do so often, a pattern of behaviour that reflected their
views that providing comfort to a distressed child was the responsibility of adults,
not other small children.
On some occasions young children react negatively to another person’s dis-
tress, responding to the distress with amusement or physical aggression. Such nega-
tive responses are not uncommonly seen between siblings (Dunn & Munn, 1986;
Dunn & Brown, 1994) and also amongst familiar peers (Demetriou & Hay, 2004).
The likelihood of a negative response to another’s distress is heightened when the
child was the perpetrator of that distress (Zahn-Waxler et al., 1992).

Biological processes and empathy: physiology,

hormones and neural networks
Some investigators have tried to identify bodily responses that accompany expressed
concern for other people in distress. The absence of such physiological reactions
may correlate with a lack of concern or negative responses in the face of another
person’s distress.

Heart rate and empathy

One physiological process thought to be relevant to children’s responses to dis-
tress is heart rate (e.g., Eisenberg et al., 1989; Zahn-Waxler, Cole, Welsh, & Fox,
1995). These theorists suggested that increases in heart rate (HR) might represent
one’s own emotional arousal as a function of exposure to someone’s distress, which
might interfere with the production of empathic concern, whereas HR decelera-
tion might accompany expressions of concern for the distressed person.
These ideas were tested in a longitudinal study of a large sample of 7-year-
old children, whose responses to people in distress were measured by observed
responses to parents’ and experimenters’ simulations of distress and by parents’
reports during an interview (Van Hulle et al., 2013).The children’s HR was meas-
ured during mood-induction procedures. In this study, empathic concern was
contrasted with two different types of non-empathic behaviour: active disregard,
which reflected negative attitudes and behaviour toward the distressed person,
and passive disregard, which simply showed the absence of concern for that person’s
welfare. The researchers also distinguished empathic concern toward the distressed
person from personal distress that was focussed on the self rather than the other
person.
On average, the children’s mean HR in response to the sadness-inducing mood
inductions was lowest for the group who showed active disregard of other peo-
ple’s distress. The other two groups – those who showed empathic concern and
those who showed passive disregard – did not differ in HR. This was true when
 Empathy 95

the groups were identified via maternal interview as when they were identified
through the experimental probes. All three groups (empathic concern, active dis-
regard and passive disregard) showed HR deceleration in response to the sadness-
inducing scenarios, compared to baseline. Rather than serving as a physiological
indicator of empathic concern, HR deceleration might simply reflect increased
attention to the mood-inducing scenario. However, the fact that children showing
active disregard to the distress of another person were physiologically less aroused
by the distress reveals a basic difference between those who simply don’t respond to
distress and those who respond negatively to distressed people.

Oxytocin: the empathy hormone?

Recent research on empathy in adults and children has focussed on the neuropep-
tide oxytocin, which can be studied as both a hormone and a neurotransmitter
(Rodrigues, Saslow, Garcia, John, & Keltner, 2009). Oxytocin is associated with
caregiving behaviour in mammals, including humans. The relationships between
oxytocin levels and mother-infant interaction reveal a pattern of reciprocal influ-
ence between mother and child (see Chapter 7). Mothers’ oxytocin levels in preg-
nancy predict later patterns of their interactions with their infants (Feldman,Weller,
Zagoory-Sharon, & Levine, 2007). Newborn infants’ behaviour (e.g., touching or
sucking on the mother’s breast) stimulates the mother’s production of oxytocin
(e.g., Matthiesen, Ransjo-Arvidson, Nissen, & Uvnas-Moberg, 2001). Oxytocin
also contributes to mothers’ empathic responses to their infants’ cries (Riem et al.,
2011). It has therefore been argued that oxytocin may contribute to humans’ caring
and empathic responses to other people, beyond their own children.
This speculation has led to experimental studies where oxytocin is directly
administered. One question raised is how oxytocin might affect brain regions that
underpin empathy.
In a randomly controlled trial, women either received a dose of oxytocin
(administered through the nose) or a placebo (Riem et al., 2011). Neuroimaging
analyses of the two groups of women showed that their brains responded differently
to recordings of infants’ cries.Those women who had received the dose of oxytocin
showed fewer responses in the amygdala (a key component of the ‘empathy circuit’
identified by Decety, 2015). The authors suggested that higher levels of oxytocin
may have reduced the women’s emotional response to the aversive sound of an
infant’s cry and enabled their response to the needs of the infant. In other words,
oxytocin levels may have reduced the likelihood that affective empathy would get
in the way of cognitive empathy.
Children’s own oxytocin levels, which are quite stable over the course of devel-
opment, are affected by genetic factors and their early caregiving experiences; they
are also associated with the children’s behaviour toward others (Feldman, Gordon,
Influs, Gutbir, & Ebstein, 2013).Thus, there is a complex pathway from the biologi-
cal factors that regulate parents’ empathy and the biological and social supports for
children’s empathy in their own social relationships.
96 Empathy

Cognitive empathy: understanding other

people’s emotions
Providing the right sort of comfort to a person in distress depends on some degree
of cognitive empathy (understanding that the other person feels a certain way for a
particular reason). This understanding requires an ability to detect emotional signals
from another person and also understand the context in which those signals have been
made. Even if infants respond when another person cries, would they necessarily
detect subtler emotional signals, such as sad or fearful facial expressions? And when
in development do children become sensitive to the fact that different contexts may
elicit quite different emotional responses?

Identification of other people’s emotional signals

In the previous chapters, we have seen that children gradually come to recognise
other people’s expressions of emotion and draw upon those facial and vocal sig-
nals for important information, for example, when infants use social referencing
to guide their own actions, such as when infants react to their caregivers’ smiles
or fearful expressions when placed on the visual cliff (Sorce, Emde, Campos, &
Klinnert, 1985). We have also seen that children become aware of a basic distinc-
tion between other people’s positive and negative emotions before being able to
differentiate negative emotions (e.g., Widen & Russell, 2013). Taken together, these
lines of research suggest that very young infants must first learn to identify different
signs of emotion and discriminate between positive and negative emotions before
learning to tell different types of negative emotion apart.
Across the first year of life, infants gradually acquire the ability to recognise the
distinct features of emotional signals (e.g., a smile or an angry scowl), no matter
who is showing that facial expression (e.g., Nelson & Dolgin, 1985). They also
come to recognise some perceptual features of emotional expressions in photo-
graphs, no matter whether the face is right side up or not (Kestenbaum & Nelson,
1990). But it is not until later in childhood that children acquire the emotion rec-
ognition skills shown by adults.
By 5 years of age, children can clearly recognise people’s expressions of happiness
(e.g., Gao & Maurer, 2010). However, they are not nearly so successful at recog-
nising different expressions of negative emotion (e.g., de Sonneville et al., 2002).
They may not be able to tell the difference between neutral and negative facial
expressions, or may mix up different expressions of negative emotion (Gao & Mau-
rer, 2010). Recognition of anger in particular seems to pose problems throughout
middle childhood (Gao & Maurer, 2010; Herba, Landau, Russell, Ecker, & Phillips,
2006). The recognition of emotion is influenced by children’s understanding of
emotion words, not just their perceptual abilities; it also depends on exactly how
the children’s abilities are being assessed (Vicari et al., 2000).
The gradual development of the ability to discriminate amongst different
expressions of emotion has implications for children’s social lives. Not being able to
 Empathy 97

tell when someone is feeling unhappy will make it difficult for the child to respond
empathically to that person’s distress, especially if the emotions are not being shown
at peak intensity. This may lead to some misinterpretation of the children’s motiva-
tion to help or hurt other people. Many parents may assume that their children’s
recognition of other people’s emotions are as good as the parents’ own abilities,
which may lead to misunderstandings in real-life situations, such as when the child
is engaged in conflict with siblings, peers or the parents.

Decoding the contexts in which emotions are expressed

The child’s interpretation of another’s emotional signal, which might have impli-
cations for that child’s own safety, may partly depend upon deciphering infor-
mation about the context in which that signal was produced. Understanding of
context may also facilitate any empathy that the child feels in response to the
emotional signals being made by another. For example, younger children may not
be able to tell apart easily the facial expressions signifying sadness, fear and anger;
however, they may be able to draw on situational cues to understand what might
be wrong.
Some classic experiments on children’s empathy showed children pictures of
different situations (e.g., a birthday party; a lost dog) and asked the participants to
identify what the story protagonist might be feeling (Borke, 1971). In common
with the experimental studies of children’s responses to facial expressions, 3-year-
old Chinese and American children who were told such stories also tended to
make a basic distinction between happiness and negative emotions; older children
performing the task were more likely to make distinctions amongst the negative
emotions (Borke, 1973).
One variation on this method is shown by studies that presented children with
congruent or incongruent facial expressions and contexts; in such a task, younger
children are sometimes more likely to rely on the facial expression than the context
(Gnepp, 1983). In other cases, children who are told stories that explain why a char-
acter might feel a certain way correctly identify the child’s incongruent emotion,
but note that they would feel differently in that situation (Denham, 1986).
Children are able to judge emotions from the tone of people’s voices as well as
their facial expressions, but in this case context is still important; if there is a conflict
between the tone of the voice and the words people say, children tend to judge
emotion from words, not the acoustic properties of their voices (Waxer & Morton,
2011).
Older children become more sensitive to the nuances of expressions of emo-
tions and the social contexts in which they are expressed. They become increas-
ingly aware of the fact that the same context can evoke mixed emotions and also
that there are social norms governing the display of emotion in different contexts
(Gross & Ballif, 1991). Thus, it seems likely that both discrimination of different
sorts of negative emotions and awareness of the nuances of emotion-evoking con-
texts improve across the years of childhood.
98 Empathy

Biological contributions to cognitive empathy

We have already seen that biological processes contribute to a person’s ability to
respond emotionally to another person’s distress, i.e., affective empathy. It is also
possible to identify the biological underpinnings of cognitive empathy.
For example, Decety (2011) has proposed a theoretical model of empathy that
involves three components, each supported by different brain regions: affective
arousal, emotion understanding and self-regulation. In other words, an effective empathic
response would entail (1) a heightened emotional response to distress; (2) an under-
standing of the nature of the distress, in terms of emotion signals and context; and
(3) self-regulation of one’s own emotions, to remain capable of providing help.
In this model, emotional understanding – which may also be referred to as cogni-
tive empathy – is supported by the ventromedial prefrontal cortex. Links with the
amygdala and other cortical areas would help the individual regulate the affective
response to pain and distress and therefore deploy appropriate prosocial responses
to the distressed person. Neuroimaging work following from this model has shown
different regions of grey matter density associated with cognitive vs. affective empa-
thy (Figure 9.2; Eres, Decety, Louis, & Molenberghs, 2015).

Somatosensory cortex

ACC
Striatum

vMPFC
Amygdala

Insula Brainstem

Hypothalamus Adrenal glands

VTA

Vasopressin
Prolactin
Oxytocin
Progesterone
Opioids

FIGURE 9.2 The empathy network

Source: Decety (2015)
 Empathy 99

Some investigators have also sought neuroimaging evidence for links between
empathy and the mirror neuron network of the brain, which supports our abilities
to understand other people’s actions and imitate what other people are doing (Gaz-
zola, Aziz-Zadeh, & Keysers, 2006). For example, a small sample of 10-year-olds
participated in a functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) study of responses
to facial displays of emotion (Pfeifer, Iacoboni, Mazziotta, & Dapretto, 2008). In one
condition, the children were asked to imitate the expressions shown; in the other
condition, they were instructed simply to observe without imitating the emotion.
Activation in the brain regions associated with mirror neurons was found during
imitation of the facial expressions and to a somewhat lesser extent during mere
observation of the faces, and was significantly correlated with the children’s scores
on a test of empathic concern. Both lines of research demonstrate that the capacity
for empathy is a fundamental social talent supported by the human brain.

Gender differences in empathy

Over 30 years ago, in an influential review of the literature on gender differences,
Eisenberg and Lennon (1983) concluded that, although women have traditionally
been seen as more empathic than men are, the direct evidence for gender differ-
ences in empathy was less clear. In particular, while self-reports were in line with the
stereotype, direct observations or physiological measurement revealed fewer gender
differences. Thus, the extent of difference between male and female responses to
other people’s emotions may depend on the techniques used to measure empathy
and the dimensions of empathy being measured. Different types of designs also
yield studies with different sample sizes: Questionnaire studies typically have larger
samples than experimental or observational studies of infants. Therefore, different
methods convey different levels of power to test against the null hypothesis.

Evidence for gender differences in empathy

Infants’ early responses to distress

Some marginal evidence for gender differences was reported in early studies of
contagious crying, with girl infants reported to be more sensitive to the cries of
other infants than were their male peers (Sagi & Hoffman, 1976; Simner, 1971).
However, other studies of infants’ responses to other infants’ cries have not found
significant differences (Martin & Clark, 1982) or have not reported testing for asso-
ciations with gender (Dondi et al., 1999; Hay et al., 1981).
In any case, these small samples of infants are not representative of the larger
population. In our larger, nationally representative sample of British infants, their
mothers, fathers and a third person who knew the infant well were asked to
complete a developmental milestones questionnaire when the infant was 6 months
of age (Hay et al., 2010). One of the items on the milestones questionnaire asked,
‘Does the infant get distressed when another baby cries?’ Crying in response to
another infant’s cries was reported for about half the infants in the sample, with
100 Empathy

significant agreement between all pairs of informants. Boys were slightly more
likely to show responsive crying than girls were, but the difference was very small
and non-significant. Thus, at the beginning of the developmental progression
toward empathy, there is little evidence of gender differences.

Emergence of gender differences in empathy in childhood

In contrast to the early manifestations of empathy in infancy, assessments of empa-
thy in early childhood already reveal gender differences. In contrast to Eisenberg
and Lennon’s (1983) earlier review of the literature, these differences are identi-
fied using directly observed assessments as well as informants’ reports. Girls already
show higher scores on empathy tasks in the preschool years (e.g., Ball, Smetana, &
Sturge-Apple, 2017). In a large community sample of twins, gender differences in
empathic concern were discernible by the second year of life (Knafo, Zahn-Waxler,
Van Hulle, Robinson, & Rhee, 2008).
In the early years of life, it is useful to remember that gender differences often
are confounded with maturational differences; in general, girls have a maturational
advantage in acquiring language (Bornstein, Hahn, & Haynes, 2004). Some gender
differences in empathic concern as opposed to disregard of another’s distress are
explained by girls’ advantage in language skills (Rhee et al., 2013). Nevertheless,
gender differences on a variety of measures of empathy are still apparent in mid-
dle childhood and adolescence, especially with respect to cognitive empathy (e.g.,
Schwenck et al., 2013). In some cases, the gender differences in late childhood
appear to derive from a decline in empathy for boys at that point in development
(Van der Graff et al., 2014). These persistent gender differences have often been
attributed to biological factors, coupled with gender socialisation.

Empathy and the female brain

In recent years, some investigators have studied gender differences in empathy in
the context of overarching biological theories about the male and female brains.
As we have seen, advances in neuroimaging tasks have made it possible to examine
gender differences in the activation of different brain regions during psychological
tasks that assess empathy (e.g., Derntl et al., 2010; Schulte-Ruther, Markowitsch,
Shah, Fink, & Piefke, 2008). For example, in a small sample of men and women
(who were further classified in terms of the stage of the menstrual cycle they were
in when tested), the participants were assessed on several different measures of
empathy (Derntl et al., 2010). In line with the earlier review of the evidence for
gender differences in empathy, the women and men differed in their self-reports,
but not in their directly measured empathy. However, gender differences were
observed in the activation of brain regions associated with empathy, including the
amygdala; activation of the latter structure was also influenced by the women’s stage
in their menstrual cycle, suggesting that hormonal influences might be involved.
 Empathy 101

Although the neuroimaging data provides interesting insights into the brain
circuits that support empathic behaviour, these findings primarily derive from stud-
ies of small, selected samples of adults who have been exposed to different social
influences during their development. Thus, it is also important to examine how
girls’ and boys’ empathic behaviour is encouraged or discouraged during childhood.

Gender differences in emotional socialisation

Adults do not always encourage children to respond empathically to other people’s
distress. For example, in a study of 3- and 4-year-olds in preschool classrooms,
teachers tended to discourage the children from responding to each other’s distress;
during an interview in which they were shown a video of a classmate’s distress, the
children revealed that they knew how to help but also suggested that responding
to distress was a job that was more suitable for adults (Caplan & Hay, 1989). In that
sample, neither girls nor boys were encouraged to help others, although they were
praised for pretending to comfort dolls and stuffed toys.
Parents are more likely to stress the overall importance of emotional experience
with girls than with boys, although that may depend on the parent’s gender. For
example, in a study of mothers’ and fathers’ conversations with their 3-year-old
sons and daughters (Fivush, Brotman, Buckner, & Goodman, 2000), the parents
were asked to talk about past events in their children’s experience that had evoked
the primary emotions of happiness, fear, anger and sadness. Mothers and fathers
were observed conversing with their children in separate sessions, in counterbal-
anced order. In general, the conversations with mothers lasted longer than con-
versations with fathers. Mothers were also more likely than fathers were to use
emotion words during the conversations. However, gender differences in either
parents’ or children’s talk about emotions also depended on the particular emotion
being discussed, suggesting that girls and boys may have different opportunities to
learn about different types of positive and negative emotions.
In subsequent research on parents’ talk about emotions, in a sample of fami-
lies from The Netherlands, the investigators developed an ‘Emotions Picture Book’
to standardise the topic of conversations held by mothers and fathers with their
sons and daughters (van der Pol et al., 2015). The wordless picture book con-
tained gender-neutral illustrations of children in situations that might evoke differ-
ent emotions. The attributions parents made about the gender of the children in
the illustrations depended on the emotions being portrayed. If the situation evoked
sadness, the parents were more likely to refer to the child as a girl. If, instead, the
situation evoked anger, the parents were more likely to refer to the child in the
drawing as a boy.
During interactions with their parents, young children may also learn which emo-
tions are most appropriate for them to display, in line with gender norms. For exam-
ple, in a longitudinal study of mothers’ and fathers’ interactions with their young
children at 4 and 6 years of age (Chaplin, Cole, & Zahn-Waxler, 2005), the parents
and children were observed playing a competitive game. Because the overall purpose
of the research was to study the development of children with behavioural problems,
102 Empathy

children who were seen as ‘hard-to-manage’ were over-represented in the sample.

The children’s facial emotions were coded, and blends of different emotions were
classified in terms of the interpersonal context as ‘harmonious,’ ‘disharmonious’ and
‘submissive.’ In comparison to boys, girls’ expressions of emotion were more likely to
be classified as ‘submissive,’ but the two genders were not significantly different in the
display of ‘disharmonious’ emotions. Both mothers and fathers were more likely to
pay attention to submissive emotions shown by girls as opposed to boys.Thus, expec-
tations about gender norms may influence parental behaviour when children express
emotion, which may eventually channel girls and boys into different preferences for
emotional expression, bound up with gender-differentiated social strategies.

Individual differences in empathy

The previous section on gender differences underscores the fact that, although a
capacity for empathy is present in the human species, there are nonetheless indi-
vidual differences. It is important to go beyond the study of gender differences and
examine individual variation in empathy. Are some children more empathic than
others? And, if so, do their empathic tendencies appear to be inborn – is there evi-
dence for genetically determined differences in empathy?

Early individual differences in concern for others

Toddlers do not always respond in the same way to other people’s distress; some
react not with empathic concern but rather with amusement or aggression (Dem-
etriou & Hay, 2004; Zahn-Waxler et al., 1992). Those toddlers who respond posi-
tively to their peers’ distress are also more likely to share in response to their peers’
requests (Hay, Castle, Davies, Demetriou, & Stimson, 1999). But do these early
individual differences originate from genetic factors, or experiences in the social
environment, or the interplay between the two?
Individual differences in early empathic concern have been studied systematically
in a large, genetically informative study of young twins (Knafo et al., 2008). In this
study, over 400 twin pairs were studied longitudinally at intervals from the first to
the third birthday. As part of the study protocol, experimenters simulated distress.
Mothers were asked to simulate distress as well, for example, by pretending to hurt
their knees or catch their fingers in a clipboard.The twins’ empathic concern in the
face of mothers’ and experimenters’ simulated distress was examined in relation to
whether or not they were genetically identical or non-identical twins. In the logic
of behavioural geneticists’ use of twin studies, the concordance between twins – the
extent to which they both show empathic concern – should be greater if the twins
are genetically identical. Non-identical twins on average would share half their genes,
like any other pairs of siblings, but identical twins would share all their genes. This
fact was used in statistical analyses designed to assess the extent of genetic influence
on empathic concern, as well as the effects of their shared family environment.
At the earliest age that was assessed (14 months), there was significant concord-
ance between identical twins but not between non-identical twins, particularly
 Empathy 103

with respect to empathic concern toward the experimenter. Genetic influence on

empathy across the two people simulating distress – mother and experimenter –
was evident by 24 months, although the environment also influenced the level of
empathic concern that individual toddlers showed across this time period. Thus,
individual differences in very young children’s responses to people in distress reflect
differences in both their genes and their social environments.

Empathy and other forms of prosocial behaviour

In both childhood and adulthood, individual differences in measures of empa-
thy may also be associated with individual differences in other forms of prosocial
behaviour. Neuroscientists who study empathy have argued that empathy has been
selected for in the course of evolution, is underpinned by distinct neural networks
and is therefore the ‘driver’ of all other forms of prosocial behaviour (Decety, Bartal,
Uzefovsky, & Knafo-Noam, 2016). These authors note that the biological substrate
that supports human empathy is identifiable in species other than our own; they
argue for the importance of processing distress cues in supporting social affiliation
and nurturance across different species.
The question of links between empathy and other forms of prosocial behav-
iour has been addressed in a developmental as well as an evolutionary framework,
by looking at patterns of individual differences across different types of prosocial
actions. It is noteworthy that different types of prosocial actions do not always cor-
relate with each other (Hay & Cook, 2007; Radke-Yarrow, Zahn-Waxler, & Chap-
man, 1983). Particularly when the capacity for prosocial action is first emerging in
the human repertoire, there are dissociations as well as associations across proso-
cial behaviours. Paulus (2014) has drawn distinctions between different theoreti-
cal models of early prosocial development, noting that different types of prosocial
behaviour (e.g., instrumental helping versus comforting a person in distress) are
supported by different neurobiological mechanisms and draw upon different sets
of cognitive skills.
In an analysis of the development of prosocial behaviour in the toddler
years (Hay & Cook, 2007), we proposed that three different abilities developed
between infancy and early childhood: (1) feeling for others (i.e., affective empa-
thy); (2) working with others (e.g., sharing resources, cooperating with another
person, and instrumental helping); and (3) ministering to others’ needs (e.g., com-
forting and caregiving a person in distress, which might reflect cognitive empa-
thy that was not bound up with affective arousal). The strongest correlations
amongst prosocial behaviours in early childhood are within domains, such as
sharing and cooperating as two forms of working with others (Hay, 1979) or
sensitivity to distress and sharing in response to another person’s stated needs
(Hay et al., 1999). Over the course of development, however, these strands may
come together and a more trait-like disposition to be prosocial will be observed.
Is this general disposition to be kind to others underpinned by empathy? And,
if so, do genetic as well as environmental factors contribute to the development
of a ‘prosocial personality’?
104 Empathy

In a genetically informative longitudinal study of twins living in Israel (Knafo-

Noam, Uzefovsky, Israel, Davidov, & Zahn-Waxler, 2015), parents reported on the
twins’ prosocial behaviour at the age of 7 years.The dimensions of prosocial behav-
iour that were assessed (sharing, social concern, helping, kindness, and empathic
concern) were all significantly correlated at that age, and their shared variance
could be explained by a single factor with a high degree of heritability. This find-
ing could partly be explained by relying on the report from a parent who might
have a global perception of the child’s prosocial skills. Nonetheless, the study does
suggest that different strands of prosocial behaviour, including empathy, consolidate
by middle childhood.

Empathy and callousness

In recent years, investigators have been interested in studying what might be seen
as the opposite of empathy: callousness. Increased interest in callousness arose in the
context of attempts to study children’s conduct problems in relation to the phe-
nomenon of psychopathy in adulthood (Hare, 1996). Studies of children who had
been diagnosed with severe conduct problems revealed a subgroup who showed
a range of what was labelled callous-unemotional (CU) traits, which included the
absence of the moral emotions of empathy and guilt (Frick, Ray, Thornton, &
Kahn, 2014). Boys with conduct problems accompanied by high levels of CU traits
were observed to be less responsive to other people’s distress, and in particular less
able to process other people’s fearful facial expressions as conveyed by the eyes
(Dadds, El Masry, Wimalaweera, & Guastella, 2008). Girls with conduct problems
also find other people’s expressions of disgust and anger difficult to understand,
although they show no problem in recognising people’s faces (Fairchild, Stobbe,
van Goozen, Calder, & Goodyer, 2010). At the biological level, callousness has been
linked to a lower responsiveness to stress, which may also interfere with the recog-
nition of stress in others (Shirtcliff et al., 2009). Neuroimaging analyses also show
that, within the population of children with conduct problems, those children with
high levels of CU traits also show a lowered response to other people’s pain (Lock-
wood et al., 2013).
These studies demonstrate that both affective and cognitive empathy rely on
perception, and in particular, sensitivity to the emotional signals of others. Indeed,
children with better emotional understanding in early childhood are less likely to
go on to develop CU traits (Centifanti, Meins, & Fernyhough, 2016). Children’s
callousness is often related to other predictors of conduct problems, including fear-
lessness (Waller, Shaw, & Hyde, 2017) and impulsivity (Centifanti et al., 2016).
Indeed, very young children with fearless temperament are at high risk for the
development of CU traits (Goffin, Boldt, Kim, & Kochanska, 2018).
Thus, children who show callousness in response to the distress of others may
also show a broader pattern of interacting with the physical and social world that
leads to a general disregard of social rules and the needs of other members of society.
 Empathy 105

It is important to note that the strengths of the associations between fearlessness,

impulsivity and callousness are reduced by the experience of positive interactions
with parents (Centifanti et al., 2016;Waller et al., 2017). In other words, more pleas-
ant experiences in our social worlds reduce callousness and promote more positive,
empathic responses to other people.
10
SHAME AND GUILT

In this chapter, we focus on another domain of social and moral emotions: shame
and guilt. In the last chapter, we noted that children with callous-unemotional traits
not only show low rates of empathy, but they also tend to show less guilt (Frick
et al., 2014). Guilt is closely related to the self-conscious emotion of shame; both
emotions reflect our ability to reflect on ourselves in the context of the expecta-
tions other people have for us in our social worlds. Therefore, both shame and guilt
draw on a more basic developmental attainment: self-consciousness.

Early signs of self-consciousness

As we have seen in the previous chapter, despite some theoretical claims, it is
unlikely that infants cannot differentiate between themselves and others. Nonethe-
less, one of the major attainments of the first years of life is the development of
a representation of the self, which incorporates the ability to recognise oneself, to
recall things about oneself (what is sometimes known as autobiographical memory)
and, eventually, to evaluate oneself with reference to other people’s expectations and
one’s own goals and desires. This latter capacity for self-evaluation makes possible
the emotional experiences of shame and guilt.

Self-recognition
Studies of the self-concept in adults and older children have traditionally relied
on self-reports, i.e., people’s introspection about the self. Such methods are clearly
inappropriate for studies of the developmental origins of the self-concept in pre-
verbal infants. Experimental methods were therefore developed to ask a very basic
question about the development of self: When are infants able to recognise them-
selves (e.g., Amsterdam & Greenberg, 1977; Bertanthal & Fischer, 1978)? If they
 Shame and guilt 107

are placed in front of a reflective surface, at what age do they understand they are
seeing themselves, not another infant? Similar studies have also been conducted
with non-human primates.
Taken together, the mirror studies have demonstrated that only humans and the
great apes (in particular, chimpanzees and orangutans) show signs of recognising
themselves in mirrors; there is anecdotal evidence that some gorillas also are capa-
ble of self-recognition (Anderson & Gallup, 2015). In our own species, the ability
to recognise oneself in a mirror has been thought to emerge between 18 and 21
months of age (e.g., Anderson, 1984; Nielsen & Dissanayake, 2004), and is associ-
ated with other forms of social cognition that develop around the same time (Wade,
Moore, Astington, Frampton, & Jenkins, 2015).
There are some suggestions that rudiments of self-recognition begin to emerge
earlier in development. For example, in one study of 4- and 9-month-old infants’
behaviour, the infants were shown live video images of themselves and another per-
son, an adult experimenter who mimicked what the infant was doing (Rochat &
Striano, 2002). When the video was stopped (a form of the still face procedure
described in Chapter 5), the infants’ reactions were recorded. Even at 4 months
of age, the infants’ behaviour differed, depending on whether they were watching
another person or themselves. The infants were more likely to smile at the adult
experimenter, but more likely to ‘talk’ to themselves, vocalising more when looking
at their own videos.
Neuroimaging studies have also provided evidence for the development of self-
recognition over the first 2 years of life. For example, EEG analyses have attempted
to identify neural body maps in infants’ brains (Marshall & Meltzoff, 2015). A dif-
ferent neuroimaging technique, functional multi-channel near-infrared spectros-
copy (fNIRS), demonstrated that, when 6-month-old infants heard their names,
their brains showed activation in the frontal cortex (Imafuku, Hakuno, Uchida-Ota,
Yamamoto, & Minagawa, 2014). The activation was especially likely to occur if the
infants heard their names spoken by their mothers.

Autobiographical memory in infancy

In order to experience either shame or guilt, we need to remember what it was
that we did. At what point in development do we become able to recall past events
in our lives? Again, when asking whether infants are capable of such recall of the
past, methods need to be developed that do not depend on verbal abilities. One
such method, deferred imitation, was first noted by Jean Piaget (1962), who reported
that his toddler daughter had witnessed another child experience a florid temper
tantrum and later replicated the peer’s tantrum with considerable fidelity.
Subsequent experimental studies have documented infants’ abilities to replicate
actions they had seen modelled after a delay, even in the first years of life (e.g.,
Bauer, 2015). Infants who experience unusual events (such as being able to make a
mobile move by kicking their foot) can show that they recall the event nonverbally,
even months later – by kicking their feet to make a similar mobile move around
108 Shame and guilt

(Rovee-Collier, Hartshorn, & DiRubbo, 1999). Infants’ long-term memory for

such behavioural contingencies is particularly relevant for the development of self-
conscious emotions, because to experience either shame or pride, children must
become aware that certain outcomes are contingent on their own actions (Stipek,
1983).
However, these nonverbal memories of past experiences do not always translate
into verbal accounts of the experience (Tustin & Hayne, 2016). Younger infants
are also more prone to forgetting (Bauer, 2015). Nonetheless, the studies of infants’
memory abilities show that, over the first years of life, children are gradually acquir-
ing a sense of what has happened to them in the past and, once they acquire lan-
guage, begin to put their memories into words.
Taken together, these findings show that the development of the ability to rec-
ognise the self, recall past experiences and understand contingent action emerges
over the first two years, underpinned by infants’ developing brains and shaped fur-
ther by their social experiences. Once this rudimentary sense of self has emerged,
very young children become able to recall their past actions and evaluate them-
selves, in relation to the standards expected of them by their parents and other
important people in their social environments.

The manifestations of shame in childhood

Shame and awareness of social norms

Shame is defined in the Oxford English Dictionary as ‘a painful feeling of humili-
ation or distress caused by the consciousness of wrong or foolish behaviour.’ It is
noteworthy that, in this definition, shame is defined as a particular form of psycho-
logical distress, based on what the person has done to make himself or herself feel
that way. Furthermore, the fact that the concept of humiliation is embedded in this
definition implies that the experience of shame goes beyond internal distress and
is felt in relation to one’s evaluation in the eyes of others. Shame is truly a social
emotion.
This fact draws attention to a fundamental paradox in the development of our
sense of self: the more we become aware of ourselves, the more we are evaluating
ourselves in the light of other people’s needs and opinions. Shame can be seen as the
opposite of pride (see Chapter 7), but whereas pride can be felt in relation to one’s
own standards of achievement, shame is more often a response to social norms, even
if those norms have already been internalised into our own self-concepts.

Behavioural signs of shame in early childhood

Distinct facial expressions associated with shame in adults include a lowered head
and eye gaze directed toward the ground (Keltner & Buswell, 1996). Feelings of
shame are also sometimes accompanied by physiological reactions such as blushing
(Stipek, 1983). Such expressions of shame can be identified in children by 3 years
 Shame and guilt 109

of age. In a laboratory study, 3-year-olds were observed playing freely with their
parents and also asked to complete six tasks: an easy and a difficult jigsaw puz-
zle, an easy and a difficult copying task, and an easy and a difficult ball-tossing
game (Lewis, Alessandri, & Sullivan, 1992). In this study, the expression of shame
was operationally defined as follows: ‘body collapsed, corners of the mouth are
downward/lower lip tucked between teeth, eyes lowered with gaze downward
or askance’ (p. 632). The child’s withdrawing from the tasks and negative self-
evaluation were also coded as signs of shame.
In that study, signs of shame were more likely to be observed when the 3-year-
olds failed easy tasks, rather than difficult ones. In contrast, the children were more
likely to show signs of pride when they completed the difficult tasks. However,
there was also a significant difference between girls and boys: Girls were equally
likely to show pride when completing the difficult tasks but more likely to show
shame than boys were (Lewis et al., 1992).
Other research groups have similarly found that some signs of shame are appar-
ent by very early childhood (Barrett, Zahn-Waxler, & Cole, 1993; Belsky, Domitro-
vich, & Crnic, 1997). For example, in a community sample of 3-year-old boys, the
investigators tested whether expressions of shame were linked to a boy’s tempera-
ment (in terms of a general tendency to show negative emotion) and/or to the
parent’s behaviour. Again, expressions of shame were more likely to be seen when
the boys failed at easy tasks. The expression of shame in the context of failure at an
easy task was not related to a boy’s general tendency to experience negative emo-
tion. Furthermore, in that sample, more negative styles of parenting were associated
with significantly fewer signs of shame. Put the other way around, boys who had
experienced more positive treatment from their parents were more likely to experi-
ence shame when they failed at easy tasks.
Using a different paradigm to explore the developmental origins of shame and
guilt, Barrett and her colleagues (1993) conducted a study in which they staged a
mishap that apparently had been caused by the 2-year-olds themselves.The toddlers’
reactions were characterised as ‘avoiders’ or ‘amenders’ on the basis of whether they
subsequently avoided the experimenters or tried to make some kind of amends.
The researchers considered the avoidance approach to be relevant to the emotion
of shame, whereas they saw the amending approach to be more relevant to feel-
ings of guilt (see the following discussion). The pattern of reactions shown in the
laboratory were corroborated by mothers’ independent reports of their toddlers’
tendencies to express shame versus guilt in everyday situations.
These findings have been replicated in a study in which 2-year-olds were made
to believe that they had broken an adult’s toy (Drummond, Hammond, Satlof-
Bendrick, Waugh, & Brownell, 2017). Once again, a shame-relevant pattern of
behaviour was identified, with the 2-year-old toddlers avoiding further interaction
with the adult whose toy they had broken. Furthermore, they were less likely than
other toddlers to confess to what had happened or to attempt to make reparations.
These findings are in line with patterns of behaviour shown by adults who
are prone to expressing shame as opposed to guilt. Adult participants were given
110 Shame and guilt

questionnaires that tapped into their approach vs. avoidance tendencies in their
daily lives (Sheikh & Janof-Bulman, 2010).They were also asked to report how they
would feel in a number of everyday situations, including ones where they had made
some kind of mistake; their answers were analysed in terms of whether the par-
ticipants were prone to feelings of shame or guilt in those situations. The tendency
to feel shame was related to a general tendency to avoid difficult situations, in line
with the 2-year-old children’s avoidance of the experimenter whom they may have
displeased in Barrett and colleagues’ study.

Understanding other people’s feelings of shame

As children grow older, they become more sensitive to other people’s feelings of
shame in particular situations. For example, in a study of Dutch children between
10 and 12 years of age (Ferguson, Stegge, & Damhuis, 1991), the children were
asked about a set of stories that portrayed either violations of moral principles or
what the investigators referred to as ‘social blunders.’ The children were told to
respond as if they were the protagonists of all the stories. They were then asked if
they would feel guilty and/or ashamed, in the context of each story. The children
reported that they would feel guilty if they had committed a moral transgression.
They would feel ashamed as well, and would also feel ashamed if they had merely
committed a social blunder. This implies that by this point in middle childhood,
children are well aware of social norms governing behaviour and the appropriate-
ness of feeling ashamed when violating those norms.

The socialisation of shame

As we have seen, shame is a self-conscious emotion, but it is also a social emotion,
insofar that it reflects how we see ourselves in relation to other people in our social
worlds. Thus, shame depends on social learning, in the context of our families and
the broader culture. Belsky and colleagues’ (1997) finding that 3-year-old boys were
more likely to express shame if they had experienced positive parenting reminds us
that a reasonable sense of shame is socially valued. The extent to which this is true
is affected by culture.
The anthropologist Ruth Benedict (1946), drawing upon her field work in
Japan, proposed that cultures could be categorised as ‘shame’ or ‘guilt’ cultures, in
terms of an emphasis on social responses to transgressions versus an internalised
sense of guilt. But does Benedict’s notion of a ‘shame-culture’ have any relevance
for the ways in which children are socialised in different cultural contexts? Or, as
many of Benedict’s critics have stated, is this a false dichotomy? Studies of cul-
tural differences in relation to the development of shame have often compared the
socialisation environments in Western individualistic cultures with Eastern collec-
tivist cultural practices.
For example, in an essay on the socialisation of shame in Chinese culture, Fung
(1999) criticised the dichotomy between shame- and guilt-cultures and examined
 Shame and guilt 111

the development of a sense of shame in the context of general social competence

and the development of the self as an interdependent being. She then undertook
a qualitative study of nine middle-class families in Taiwan, drawing on interviews
with the parents and observations of the children. These parents saw shame as a
moral emotion and believed that it was important that their children felt shame
when they had engaged in a moral transgression. Observations of the children’s
behaviour demonstrated that, in common with the Western samples described ear-
lier in this chapter, the children’s sense of shame was evident by 3 years of age.
Although Fung’s interview data indicated that the parents felt the development
of the capacity for shame was important, and in the course of family life they
engaged in both serious and playful shaming of their children, they did not agree
with excessive shaming of children, particularly in the school context.
In a more recent quantitative survey of a large sample of 10- to 11-year-old
children from Japan, South Korea and the United States, the children’s responses
to fictional scenarios were recorded (Furukawa, Tangney, & Higashibara, 2012).
The children were encouraged to think of themselves as protagonists in these sce-
narios. They also reported on their tendencies to become angry, and their teach-
ers reported on their behaviour. The findings revealed cultural differences but
not a simple dichotomy between Eastern and Western cultures. In this three-way
comparison, the Japanese children scored higher on shame responses than did the
Korean or American children. These findings draw attention to the complexity of
the socialisation of moral emotions in different cultures, which goes well beyond
Benedict’s (1946) dichotomy.

The development of the capacity to feel guilt

In contrast to shame, guilt is less likely to be associated with a distinct pattern
of facial expression (Keltner & Buswell, 1996). Rather, the experience of guilt
entails evaluation of the self against some moral standard, not a transient emotional
expression (Malti, 2016). In other words, the experience of guilt depends on hav-
ing acquired a moral framework in which to evaluate one’s own actions. However,
guilt is not purely cognitive; it is affectively charged, being associated with the basic
emotion of sadness and more complex emotions of regret and empathy for people
who have been wronged (Hoffman, 2001; Malti et al., 2016). In practical terms,
this means that guilt cannot be detected simply from a photograph of someone’s
face. More information about the context is needed. Furthermore, guilt is often
discussed as an internalised phenomenon, not overt behaviour. Therefore, the study
of guilt (as opposed to shame, which can be inferred from facial expressions) relies
more on self-reports. These in turn depend on individuals’ language skills.

The earliest manifestations of guilt

Findings from several research groups suggest that the first signs of guilt begin to
manifest around 3 years of age, at the time when many children acquire language
112 Shame and guilt

and have begun to develop a concept of self. At that age, however, children’s expe-
rience of guilt is primarily inferred from their emotional reactions or behaviour,
in particular, their tendencies to try to repair mistakes or make amends for their
actions. The studies that have attempted to measure guilt in this way rest on the
assumption that the participating children have sufficient causal understanding to
realise that their actions have consequences.
We have already seen in Chapter 9 that very young children are sometimes
observed to respond sensitively to other people’s distress. When their own actions
have caused the distress, they may respond more positively, although they occasion-
ally respond with amusement or aggression (e.g., Demetriou & Hay, 2004). Such
findings suggest that toddlers are aware of their own agency in provoking distress,
and their actions are affected by that awareness. But do children’s prosocial actions
in response to distress they have caused necessarily imply they feel guilt for those
actions?
For example, in an experimental study, toddlers were asked to play with a doll
whose leg fell off (Garner, 2003); following this accident, the experimenter, pre-
tending to be the doll, expressed pain and distress.The children’s expressed concern
about the doll’s wellbeing were interpreted as ‘empathy-based guilt responses’ but,
again, the presence of sympathetic behaviour does not necessarily imply that the
sympathy was motivated by feelings of guilt. It is necessary to distinguish general
feelings of sympathy that are evoked by another person’s overt distress from guilt-
induced responses that reflect children’s understanding of their own responsibility.
For example, in an experimental study, 2- and 3-year-old children were tested
in an experimental setting that featured a large, colourful tower of blocks (Vaish,
Carpenter, & Tomasello, 2016). An experimenter either admired the tower, saying
how unhappy she would be if it were destroyed, or just commented on it in a more
neutral way. Later, in the course of the experiment, the tower was in fact knocked
down by marbles, which was either due to the child’s or a second experimenter’s
actions. The first experimenter returned, expressing either sadness or a more neu-
tral reaction, in line with her comments at the beginning of the experiment, when
the tower was still standing. The children were then given the opportunity to help
repair the tower and to share stickers with the first experimenter. The extent to
which children expressed guilt in their speech was also measured; however, only one
2-year-old was able to do so. The 2-year-olds tended to show prosocial behaviour
toward the sad experimenter, even if they had not caused the tower to collapse; the
3-year-olds’ behaviour was more affected by their own role in its destruction. The
investigators interpreted the findings to mean that guilt for causing another person
harm could be distinguished from general sympathy in 3- but not 2-year-olds.
In another experiment in which toddlers had apparently broken an adult’s toy
(Drummond et al., 2017), an attempt was made to distinguish between shame and
guilt responses in children who were around 2.5 years of age. As in the study of
children’s responses to a mishap by Barrett and colleagues discussed earlier (1993),
avoidant behaviour was considered shame-related, whereas confessing the misdeed
to parents or trying to make repairs were considered possible indicators of guilt.
 Shame and guilt 113

Several tasks designed to measure prosocial behaviour were also administered. The
children who had shown more guilt-prone responses to the mishap were also more
likely to show empathic helping, although the frequency of instrumental help-
ing was not significantly related to the patterns of shame versus guilt. These find-
ings suggest that the origins of guilt-related responses lie in the third year of life,
although the ability to confess one’s transgressions obviously depends upon verbal
fluency as well as causal understanding.

The development of guilt in later childhood

Toddlers’ earliest manifestations of guilt will eventually consolidate into a broader
understanding of the moral framework of their society and their own sense of right
and wrong. Developmental theorists such as Jean Piaget and Lawrence Kohlberg
have drawn attention to different stages of moral development (Piaget, 1965;
Kohlberg, 1969). However, individual differences in moral understanding are also
evident, and these originate after the toddler years; this process has been described
as the development of a conscience (Kochanska, 1993). Therefore, those children
who are most sensitive to issues of right and wrong may be more likely than others
to experience feelings of guilt about their own behaviour.
Kochanska (1991) has argued that the development of a conscience has both
an affective dimension – which includes feelings of guilt – and the capacity for
self-regulation, which helps children control their own behaviour to avoid making
transgressions. The affective dimension incorporates the expressions of distress in
response to mishaps recorded in the experimental studies of toddlers’ reactions to
staged accidents, as described above. In older children, the intensity of feelings of
guilt can be measured by responses to stories about transgressions in which the chil-
dren are encouraged to identify with the protagonist and report how they would
feel, after having committed the fictional transgressions (Kochanska, 1991). This
work points to the importance of both the children’s temperament and their par-
ents’ socialisation strategies in the development of feelings of guilt for transgressions.
As children grow older, they acquire more sophisticated concepts of the emo-
tions of shame and guilt and become sensitive to the contexts in which a person
might be likely to feel guilt versus shame. For example, in one study, 10- to 12-year-
old Dutch children were presented with stories in which they were encouraged to
identify with the protagonist (Ferguson et al., 1991). Some stories featured different
sorts of moral transgression, ranging from not keeping a promise to meet a friend to
personal injury. A second group of stories featured social blunders that were embar-
rassing but not moral transgressions; the latter stories were presumed to evoke shame,
not guilt. The children were asked whether they felt any guilt or shame and, if so,
why. They did indeed report more feelings of guilt with respect to moral transgres-
sions; their feelings of shame were bound up with a fear of the social consequences
of the embarrassing blunders. Subsequent work in another Dutch sample suggested
that this differentiation of shame and guilt was seen only in children over the age of
9 years old (Olthof, Schouten, Kuiper, Stegge, & Jennekins-Schinkel, 2000).
114 Shame and guilt

In middle childhood, as children in many cultures engage in increasingly com-

plicated relationships with their peers, they will experience occasions where they
might be bullied, or witness bullying, or bully other children. These occasions may
elicit feelings of both shame and guilt. The roles children play in their peer groups
may determine whether they are more prone to shameful or guilty feelings. For
example, the extent to which the experience of shame and guilt was affected by
children’s peer experiences was assessed in a study of Italian children between 9
and 11 years of age (Meneseni & Camodeca, 2008). The children were asked to
nominate classmates whom they thought to be either bullies or victims, in line with
definitions provided by the experimenters. Bullying was defined through a series
of specific examples which incorporated physical harm, mean words, and restric-
tions on children’s actions. The children were also asked to nominate classmates
who were especially prosocial. The peer nomination procedure enabled the inves-
tigators to identify bullies, victims, prosocial children and other children who did
not involve themselves in these fraught interactions in their peer groups. All of the
children were asked to say how they might feel in several hypothetical situations,
some of which were thought to provoke shame only and others which might pro-
voke either shame or guilt. Some of the hypothetical situations involved intentional
harm. The children reported that they would feel more guilt if they had inten-
tionally harmed someone, as opposed to accidentally doing so (e.g., tripping over
something and thereby harming another child). Prosocial children were most likely
to report that they would show guilt in scenarios that might evoke either shame or
guilt; children with a history of being victimised were likely to report they would
feel shame, particularly in the shame-only scenarios. Bullies were least likely to
show guilt, but that only differed significantly from the highly prosocial children.
These findings suggest that children’s understanding of guilt develops across
middle childhood and are affected by their social experiences, with caregivers but
also with peers. It is likely, however, that the impact of children’s social experiences
on the development of feelings of guilt are also influenced by culture.

Cultural differences
The studies on children’s moral understanding that have just been discussed rest on
the assumption that children will gradually see shame and guilt as very different
moral emotions. This may only be true within individualistic cultures, such as the
European samples just described. The distinction between shame and guilt may be
less pronounced in collectivist cultures, and indeed some collectivist cultures do not
even have a word that is equivalent to the English word ‘guilt’ (Wong & Tsai, 2007).
In contrast, in collectivist cultures, the concept of shame might be finely differenti-
ated; Wong and Tsai (2007) noted that, in Chinese, there are more than 100 terms
that refer to shame.
However, recent conceptualisations of shame and guilt suggest that a feeling of
shame encompasses the entire self, whereas the feeling of guilt focuses on a particu-
lar regrettable action; using this definition, signs of both shame and guilt might be
 Shame and guilt 115

seen across individualistic and collectivist cultures (Furukawa et al., 2012). In such
studies, it sometimes proves useful to include more than one example of each type
of culture. For example, in a comparison of 10- to 11-year-old children in Japan,
South Korea and the US, we have already seen that Japanese children were the most
likely to report experiences of shame; however, this should not necessarily be inter-
preted as a difference between collectivist and individualistic cultures. The Korean
children were most likely to report feelings of guilt (Furukawa et al., 2012). These
findings suggest that, while cultural influences are likely to play a role in the devel-
opment of moral emotions, Benedict’s (1946) distinction between ‘shame-cultures’
and ‘guilt-cultures’ is oversimplified.

Guilt in relation to children’s psychological disorders

Fear, anxiety and guilt

As we have seen, children’s expressions of guilt often take the form of emotionally
distressed behaviour after a mishap (e.g., Kochanska, 1991). Thus, guilt has been
associated theoretically with emotional vulnerability. We have also seen in Chap-
ter 4 that some individuals are more prone to fear, whereas other people are fear-
less in the face of potential danger. At extreme levels, fearfulness is associated with
anxiety disorders. In contrast, fearlessness is sometimes associated with conduct
problems (e.g., Colder, Mott, & Berman, 2002), which are sometimes also marked
by lower levels of guilt. Investigators of children’s psychopathology have therefore
sought to identify links between fearfulness and the ability to experience guilt.
Evidence for a link between fearfulness and guilt can be discerned by the third
year of life. For example, in a longitudinal study of infants observed at 12, 24
and 36 months of age, the infants were invited to a university and, amongst other
challenges, presented with a fear-provoking robot at each time point (Baker, Bai-
bazarova, Ktistaki, Shelton, & van Goozen, 2012). The children’s expressions of
fear were assessed by observation and physiological measurement of heart rate and
skin conductance. Parents also rated the infants’ fearful temperament. At 24 and 36
months, the investigators used a mishap procedure in which children thought they
had broken something to assess the children’s expressions of guilt.
By 36 months, more fearful children were more likely to express distress in
response to the mishap. Analysis of the physiological measures revealed that the
children who showed more arousal in response to the frightening robot were also
more aroused in the mishap procedure. These findings suggest that, from a very
young age, those children who are prone to fear may also be prone to feelings of
guilt when they have made mistakes or violated social norms.

The absence of guilt in conduct disorder

Other studies of young children’s reactions to mishaps show a negative correlation
between empathy-based guilt, i.e., distress at having caused some unpleasantness
116 Shame and guilt

to another person, and conduct problems (e.g., Garner, 2003). This association
between guilt and conduct problems emerges over the first year of life. For exam-
ple, in a longitudinal study of 112 families (Kochanska, Gross, Lin, & Nichols, 2002),
toddlers were observed at home and in the laboratory; in the latter context, both
mishap procedures and fear-invoking procedures were used.Their interactions with
their mothers were observed, and the mothers also reported on their children’s
usual temperament and expressions of guilt. The toddlers’ expressions of guilt were
already apparent by the second year of life. A follow-up study showed that those
toddlers who were most likely to express guilt were still likely to do so when they
were nearing their fourth birthdays.
When the children in that sample were nearly 5 years of age, their risk for later
conduct problems was assessed, through measurement of their antisocial approaches
to interpersonal problems, their tendencies to break rules and their general moral
understanding. Those children who had expressed more signs of guilt were less
likely to engage in rule-breaking or antisocial behaviours.
Links between a child’s capacity to feel guilt and later conduct problems can still
be detected in adolescence. For example, in a longitudinal sample, when the par-
ticipants were assessed as 18- to 21-year-olds, those children who had shown higher
levels of guilt in childhood were less likely to experience arrests and convictions
by young adulthood, even when controlling for parents’ education and income and
the children’s own conduct problems whilst still in primary school (Stuewig et al.,
2015).
However, only some children who show conduct problems will be free from
feelings of guilt. As we have seen in Chapter 9, a subset of children who show con-
duct problems possess what is known as callous-unemotional (CU) traits (Frick et al.,
2014). Such children tend not to show empathy in response to other people’s feel-
ings; they also tend to show less guilt about their own harmful actions. Follow-up
analyses of the longitudinal sample studied by Kochanska and her colleagues (2002),
in which both guilt in response to mishaps and fearfulness had been observed in
early childhood, showed that those toddlers who had less concern about mishaps
were significantly more likely to show CU traits in early adolescence (Goffin et al.,
2018). Early fearlessness also predicted CU traits in that sample. Thus, very young
children’s lack of concern about the consequences of their mistakes may consoli-
date into a pattern of callous behaviour that endures over childhood.

Guilt and childhood depression

While children with conduct problems may be less prone to feeling guilty, children
with other types of psychological problems may feel unreasonable levels of guilt;
this is a pattern well known to be associated with childhood depression (Cole et al.,
2008). As we have seen in Chapter 6, it is only in the last few decades that it has
been recognised that even quite young children can experience clinically signifi-
cant depression. Although depression becomes more prevalent during the transition
from childhood to adolescence (Patterson et al., 2018), it can be detected at earlier
 Shame and guilt 117

ages. For example, in our own longitudinal study of a nationally representative

sample, the Cardiff Child Development Study (CCDS), 7% of 6- to 7-year-olds
(3.4% of girls and 10% of boys) met the diagnostic criteria for a depressive illness.
The clinical interview also revealed that a larger number of children (27% of this
community sample) were prone to expressing a strong sense of worthlessness or
guilt, even though they did not meet the full criteria for a diagnosis of depression.
Children who are experiencing clinically significant depression have been
observed to show high levels of both guilt and shame, coupled with a lower ten-
dency to make reparations for their mistakes, similar to that shown by children with
conduct problems (Luby et al., 2009). This finding suggests that depressed children
may feel more guilt after their transgressions, but they have a difficult time resolving
the interpersonal problems that may have followed on from their initial mistakes.
They may also feel guilt that is out of proportion with what they have done.
The aforementioned patterns of lower levels of guilt associated with con-
duct problems and higher levels associated with childhood depression need to be
examined further, because in childhood, higher levels of depression are positively
associated with higher levels of conduct problems. Our analyses of the CCDS lon-
gitudinal data show that feelings of worthlessness and guilt are present in about
80% of children who are experiencing clinically significant depression, regardless
of whether or not the children also have conduct disorder. These strong feelings
of guilt and worthlessness may affect children’s social and emotional development,
even if their other symptoms of depression are alleviated.
11
AFTERWORD

The value of a developmental perspective on emotion

The purpose of this book was to review evidence and draw some conclusions
about the course of emotional development from infancy to adolescence. In order
to provide a framework for all the disparate findings presented in the foregoing
chapters, I resurrected Katherine Bridges’ (1932) theoretical model of the gradual
differentiation of children’s emotional experience over time (Figure 11.1).
My focus on Bridges’ explicitly developmental theory of emotional development
in this book does not negate the importance of our evolutionary heritage, nor

Birth 3 mos. 6 mos. 12 mos. 18 mos. 24 mos.

For children

Affection For adults

Elation Joy
Excitement Delight

Distress
Jealousy
Anger

Disgust

Fear

FIGURE 11.1 Katherine Banham Bridges’ classic model of emotional development

 Afterword 119

downplay our species-typical ways of communicating our inner feelings through

our faces and voices, as so extensively studied by the differential emotions theorists,
Paul Ekman (1993) and Carroll Izard (1994), as described in Chapter 1. Further-
more, the key proposal that emotions develop over infancy is not incompatible with
new evidence for the neural basis of emotion. Although Bridges’ differentiation
theory is sometimes presented in contrast to the differential emotions theory set
forth by the evolutionary theorists (e.g., Widen & Russell, 2008), the two theories
are in fact complementary, operating at two different levels of analysis.
What Bridges’ theory offers to the modern developmental scientist is a concep-
tual framework in which to study change as well as stability in children’s experi-
ence of emotion over the first years of life. The sample she drew upon was not
representative, and so her specific hypotheses about timing are not likely to be
corroborated by later empirical evidence. Furthermore, by focussing solely on the
first two years, her theory did not address the emergence of the sociomoral emo-
tions, which consolidate over the next few years of childhood. However, her theory
succeeded in drawing attention to the fact that emotions do develop, and as such
Bridges’ theory of emotional development remains very compatible with other
theoretical perspectives in developmental science.
In particular, Bridges’ theory predates but is compatible with the perspective
of developmental psychobiology, as set forth by theorists such as Theodore Schneirla
(1959) and Gilbert Gottlieb (2007). Bridges’ starting point – her focus on infants’
distress and delight – is compatible with Schneirla’s emphasis on the importance
of approach-withdrawal processes in development and evolution. Furthermore, her
developmental perspective on emotion is compatible with the focus of develop-
mental psychobiology. In Gottlieb’s view, development must be studied at different
levels of analysis, with a focus on learning and self-generated change, as well as
biological maturation. Within this perspective, all of the forces that influence the
young organism also influence each other, leading to a complex set of changes and
continuities over time, partly depending on chance (Figure 11.2).

BIDIRECTIONAL INFLUENCES

ENVIRONMENT
(Physical, Social, Cultural)
BEHAVIOR

NEURAL ACTIVITY

GENETIC ACTIVITY

Individual Development

FIGURE 11.2 
A schematic portrayal of Gilbert Gottlieb’s developmental theory of
probabilistic epigenesis; all of these influences impinge upon emotional
development
120 Afterword

As we have seen in the previous chapters of this book, the sources of influence
identified by Gottlieb (2007) – genes, the nervous system, the child’s behaviour, and
the physical, social and cultural environment – all contribute to a person’s emo-
tional development. However, we still know less than we should about the ways in
which those forces interact with each other to shape that child’s capacity for emo-
tional expression and emotion regulation. The developmental perspective on emo-
tion set forth in this book highlights the differences amongst individual children as
well as all they hold in common with other members of our species.

Expanding upon Bridges’ model of

emotional development
In sketching out the course of emotional development, we expanded on Bridges’
original framework in several ways. We began, as she did, with an analysis of very
young infants’ capacities to feel distress and delight, but then moved on to consider
two early-appearing emotions that reflect infants’ abilities to compare their sensory
experiences with their expectations: surprise and disgust. We then went on to con-
sider all of the other positive and negative emotions identified in Bridges’ original
scheme.
Although some psychologists make a distinction between cognition and emo-
tion, it soon became clear that as infants developed, their growing cognitive abilities
as well as their social experiences contributed to the emergence of more complex
emotions such as sadness (which did not appear in Bridges’ scheme) and the socio-
moral emotions of empathy, shame and guilt. Bridges’ framework was a starting
point, not a complete blueprint for the development of emotion in childhood.
Chapters 3–10 summarise what we currently know about the development of both
basic and more complex emotions, including the genetic and neural substrates that
contribute to all of these different facets of emotional experience.

Emotion and emotional problems

The view of emotional development set forth in this book has also drawn upon
the perspective of developmental psychopathology, which holds that the clinical study
of children’s psychological problems should be undertaken with reference to what
we know about child development (Sroufe & Rutter, 1984). Within this perspec-
tive, investigators have tried to identify early pathways toward serious psychological
problems, partly because such knowledge might help prevent or provide appropri-
ate treatment for troubled children.Therefore, in each of the preceding chapters on
different emotions, we also consider some of the clinical literature on comparable
emotional disorders that emerge in childhood and feature some dysregulation of
the emotion being considered in that chapter.
Although this approach – pairing the study of a particular emotion with a com-
parable emotional disorder – helps us understand the continuum from individual
differences in emotional experience to mental health problems, it does obscure an
 Afterword 121

important point. Children’s emotional and behavioural disorders often co-occur.

Anxiety often accompanies depression; depressed children may also have conduct
problems (Angold, Costello, & Erkanli, 1999).
Although traditional psychiatric thinking about children’s mental health prob-
lems has tried to create operational definitions that would distinguish different
disorders (American Psychiatric Association, 2013), some investigators argue for a
focus on dimensions of children’s functioning, not discrete diagnoses (Insel et al.,
2010). This new approach advocates for the use of research diagnostic criteria
(RDoC) to specify the strengths and difficulties in children’s psychological lives.
One of the domains identified in the RDoC criteria is an emotional one,
described as negative versus positive hedonia – or, as Bridges (1932) once put it, in
simpler terms, distress versus delight. From a developmental perspective, it seems
possible that the co-occurrence of different childhood disorders partly derives from
a kind of emotional entanglement, in which different negative emotions intertwine
with each other and with the more complex sociomoral emotions that follow.Thus,
the dimensional approach to mental illness set forth in RDoC is unexpectedly
compatible with Bridges’ ideas about emotional development, which still provide a
helpful framework for the study of emotional development.
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INDEX

Note: Page numbers in italic indicate figures and page numbers in bold indicate tables on
the corresponding pages.

achievements 36, 54, 77 – 78, 85, 108 attention 7, 12, 17; affection and 85, 95;
adolescence 116, 118, 77, 81; and affection anger and 57; empathy and 102; and fear
85, 88; depression in 74 – 75; and empathy and anxiety 34, 43, 48, 50; responses to
100; and fear and anxiety 49 – 50; and withdrawal of 71 – 72
sadness 75 – 76 Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder
affection 2, 54, 82, 88, 118; displays of 84; (ADHD) 75, 90
jealousy and 84 – 85 awareness 46, 65, 97, 108, 112
amusement 23, 77, 78 – 80, 79, 112; empathy
and 94, 102 behaviour 8, 10, 19, 22 – 23, 120 – 121; and
anger 12, 20, 85, 118; biological affection 84, 87 – 90; and anger 54, 56 – 63,
underpinnings of 61 – 62; development 65 – 68; behavioural inhibition 41 – 44, 43,
of 53 – 61, 54; differences in proneness 46 – 52; and empathy 92, 94 – 95; and fear
to 62 – 63; empathy and 96 – 97, 101, 104; and anxiety 34, 36 – 37; and happiness
excessive 68 – 69; and fear and anxiety 76, 78, 80; prosocial 103 – 104, 112 – 113;
35 – 36, 52; happiness and 77 – 78, 80; and sadness 71 – 73; and shame and guilt
sadness and 70 – 74; and the socialisation 107 – 111, 115 – 116; see also behavioural
of emotion 64 – 68; and the study of problems
emotion and its development 2 – 3, 2, 4, behavioural problems 16 – 17, 31, 57, 61, 72,
5 – 7, 10; and surprise and disgust 28 – 31 101 – 102; fearlessness and 51 – 52
anxiety 9 – 10, 15, 48, 115, 121; anxiety biology 4 – 5, 9, 15, 24, 119; and anger 61;
disorders 31 – 33, 40, 46 – 47, 49 – 51, biological correlates of fearfulness in
68 – 69, 127 infancy 42 – 43; biological underpinnings
arguments 30, 60 – 61, 61 of children’s anger 61 – 62; and empathy
arousal 3, 4, 25, 34, 42, 115; empathy and 94 – 95, 98 – 100, 98, 103 – 104; and fear
94, 98, 103; laughter and 22 – 23 and anxiety 41, 45 – 47
attachment 17, 37, 82, 84; attachment Bowlby-Ainsworth attachment theory 82,
disorders 90; attachment relationships 86, 89; see also attachment
86 – 90; disorganised 89 – 90; secure 46, brain 7 – 8, 16, 18, 21, 23; and affection 83;
57, 86 – 89 and anger 60; and empathy 95, 98 – 99,
152 Index

98; and fear and anxiety 34, 43; female depression 9, 15, 46 – 47, 51, 71, 121; and
100 – 101; and happiness 77; microbiota- anger 57, 68 – 69; features of 75; guilt and
gut-brain axis 14; and sadness 71; and 116 – 117; precursors and predictors of
shame and guilt 107 – 108; and surprise 75 – 76; rates of 74 – 75
and disgust 27, 30 – 31 depth perception 33 – 34
breast-feeding 45, 84 developmental disorders 23 – 24
Bridges, Katherine Banham 2 – 4, 2, 6, 10, differential emotions theory 3, 5, 28, 119
118 – 121, 118; and affection 84; and differentiation theory 2 – 5, 2, 28, 30, 119
anger 54 – 55; and fear and anxiety 36; discomfort 13, 34, 47, 71
and happiness 77; and surprise and disgust 25, 28 – 32, 29, 118, 120; anger and
disgust 28, 30 57; empathy and 91, 104; happiness and
78; moral 31; and the study of emotion
callousness 10, 104 – 105 and its development 2 – 3, 4, 6, 10
caregivers 7, 9, 12 – 14, 19 – 24; and affection Disinhibited Social Engagement Disorder 90
82, 84 – 90; and anger 53 – 54, 58 – 59, display rules 8
59, 62 – 68; attention of 17, 57, 71 – 72, distress 2–3, 5– 6, 10, 118, 119– 121; and
85, 102; conflict with 57 – 58; emotion affection 85; and anger 54, 56, 58 –59, 64;
socialisation by 64; and empathy 93 – 97, children’s reactions to 93 –94; and distress
101 – 102, 104 – 105; and fear and anxiety and delight in infancy 12, 14 –17, 24; and
37, 40 – 41, 43, 48 – 50; and happiness 78; empathy 91– 92, 94–98, 100– 104; and
psychopathology of 46 – 47; responses of fear and anxiety 36, 39, 43, 45, 49; infants’
16 – 17, 20 – 21, 44, 46, 95; and sadness early responses to 99 –100; and sadness 71,
73 – 76; and shame and guilt 108 – 111, 75; and shame and guilt 108, 112 – 113,
114 – 116; see also fathers; mothers 115; and surprise and disgust 25, 28, 30
caregiving 89, 95, 103 dysphoria 74
childhood 3 – 4, 10, 31, 42, 64, 119 – 121; and
affection 84; amusement in 79; anxiety early childhood 8 – 9, 11, 16 – 17, 27, 30;
disorders in 49 – 51; attachment disorders and anger 58 – 59, 61, 63 – 65; behavioural
in 90; depression in 74 – 76; emergence signs of shame in 108 – 110; and empathy
of specific fears in 39 – 41; and empathy 100 – 101, 103 – 104; and fear and anxiety
91, 97, 100 – 101; sadness in 72 – 74; and 40, 48 – 50; and happiness 77 – 78; and
shame and guilt 108 – 111, 116 – 117; sadness 74 – 75
shyness in 44; see also early childhood; EEG (electroencephalogram) 26 – 27, 30, 34,
later childhood; middle childhood 83, 107
clinical conditions 9 – 10, 90; excessive anger elation 2, 77, 80 – 81, 118
as 68 – 69; see also specific conditions emotion: development of 2, 5, 118, 119,
cognition 107, 120; love and 88 – 89 120; emotional problems 9, 46 – 47, 49,
colic 14 – 16 51, 75, 120 – 121; expression of 5 – 6, 8,
comfort 12, 58 – 59, 65, 84, 87; empathy and 12 – 14, 62, 64 – 66; primary 5, 10, 25,
92 – 94, 96, 101 27, 33, 54 – 55, 91; self-conscious 106,
communication 20, 71 108, 110; understanding of 3 – 5, 4, 64,
conduct disorder 10, 52, 115 – 116 96; see also differential emotions theory;
conflict 56 – 61, 65 – 68, 72, 79, 97 regulation; specific emotions
coping 8, 40, 45, 73, 80, 86; anger and 62, 68 empathy 120; 7, 10, 93; affective 91, 95,
cortisol see under hormones 98; biological processes and 94 – 95;
crying 3, 12, 21 – 22, 24, 77; anger and 53, and children’s reactions to people’s
55, 58 – 59; development and regulation distress 93 – 94; cognitive 91, 95 – 100, 98,
of 12 – 17; empathy and 91 – 92, 99 – 100; 104; individual differences in 102 – 105;
sadness and 71, 73 the roots of 91 – 92; and shame and guilt
cultural differences 68, 111, 114 – 115 106, 111 – 112, 115 – 116
cultural influences 67 – 68, 115 environments 9, 14, 19, 119, 120;
affection and 86 – 88, 90; anger and 63;
delight 2, 10, 12, 25, 118, 119 – 121; empathy and 102 – 103; fear and anxiety
empathy and 91; happiness and 77; and 35 – 37, 39, 41 – 42, 46 – 47, 50;
see also smiling gene-environment interaction 44 – 45,
 Index 153

48 – 49; happiness and 78; shame and infancy 3 – 4, 9 – 10, 25, 46, 76, 118 – 119;
guilt and 108, 110; surprise and disgust and affection 85, 87 – 88, 90; and anger
and 25, 30 56, 58; autobiographical memory in
exhilaration 80 – 81 107 – 108; development of crying in
expectations 22, 25 – 26, 28, 78, 89, 120 12 – 17; and empathy 92, 100, 103; fear in
exploration 86 – 87 33 – 37, 41 – 44; and happiness 77; sadness
in 71 – 72, 74; smiling and laughing in
facial expressions 3, 5, 8, 13, 18 – 20; and 17 – 24; surprise in 26 – 27
affection 85; and anger 53, 55 – 57, 62, influences 7, 13, 20, 72, 88, 96;
64; and empathy 92, 96 – 97, 99, 104; of bidirectional 119, 119; cultural, 40,
fearful emotion 35 – 36; and happiness 77; 67 – 68, 114 – 115; family 41, 44 – 49, 57,
and sadness 70 – 73; and shame and guilt 64 – 67, 76, 102; hormonal 16, 45, 100;
108, 111; and surprise and disgust 25 – 27, see also genetics
26, 29 – 31, 48 inhibition 41 – 44, 43, 46 – 52, 62 – 63
familiarity 23, 36, 60, 83 – 84, 94; infant’s insults 60
preferences for familiar companions interpretation 6, 10, 72, 97
83 – 84; see also unfamiliarity irritability 16 – 17, 45, 62, 75 – 76, 81
fathers 57, 74, 84, 87; see also mothers
fear 2, 4, 6, 8, 10; and affection 90; and jealousy 2, 10, 57, 84 – 86, 118
anger 53, 57 – 58, 63, 65, 68 – 69; and joy 2, 2, 12, 77, 84, 118; anger 55; sadness
anxiety disorders 49 – 51; in childhood and 72, 76; see also elation; happiness
39 – 41; and distress and in infancy 12,
20, 22; and empathy 91, 96 – 97, 101; knowledge 10, 25, 59, 84, 89, 94, 120
and happiness 77 – 78; and individual
differences 41 – 49; in infancy 33 – 36; of later childhood 9, 41, 44, 50, 60 – 61, 88;
new things and people 36 – 39, 118; and development of guilt in 113 – 114
sadness 71, 73, 75 – 76; and shame and laughing 21 – 24, 91
guilt 113; and surprise and disgust 27 – 28, love 2, 83 – 84, 86, 88 – 90
31 – 32; see also fearlessness
fearlessness 40 – 41, 51 – 52, 104 – 105, medical problems 15
115 – 116 memory 25, 51, 89; autobiographical
frustration 16, 53 – 56, 61 – 65, 70, 72 – 75 106 – 108
mental health 9 – 10, 49 – 50, 76, 120 – 121
gender 13, 16, 19, 40, 47 – 48, 73; empathy mental states 10, 57, 80
and 99 – 102 meta-analysis 13, 21, 66, 75, 87 – 88
genetics 9, 47, 50, 119, 120; affection and middle childhood 11, 40, 57, 76, 78, 80 – 81;
90; anger and 63, 66; empathy and 95, and empathy 96, 104; and shame and
102 – 104; gene-environment interaction guilt 110, 114
44 – 45, 48 – 49; sadness and 76 mothers 15 – 17, 19 – 21, 23; and affection
Gottlieb, Gilbert 119 – 120, 119 82, 84 – 85, 87 – 89; and anger 54, 57 – 60,
guilt 66, 75, 104, 120; development of the 59, 64 – 68; and empathy 92, 95, 99,
capacity for 111–115; and early signs 101 – 103; and fear and anxiety 37, 41 – 42,
of self-consciousness 106–108; and 44 – 45, 47, 50; and happiness 80; mother-
psychological disorders 115–117; and signs infant interaction 29, 46, 95; newborn
of shame in early childhood 109–110 infants’ recognition of 83 – 84; and sadness
71, 73 – 74, 76; and shame and guilt 107,
happiness 3, 4, 10, 31, 68, 77; children’s 109, 116
reflections on 80; and elation 80 – 81;
empathy and 96 – 97, 101; and pleasure in neural networks 94 – 95, 103
one’s achievements 77 – 78; sadness and 73 neuroimaging 7, 95, 98 – 101, 104, 107
heart rate (HR) 8, 34, 36, 46, 115; and
empathy 94 – 95 Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) 10,
hormones: cortisol 16, 23, 39, 43, 45 – 47, 31 – 32, 49
61; oxytocin 95, 98 Oppositional-Defiant Disorder (ODD)
humour 22, 78 – 80 68 – 69, 75
154 Index

parents see caregivers study of emotion and its development 3,

peers 44, 46, 48, 59 – 60, 65, 74; conflict 4, 5 – 6, 10; and surprise and disgust 29
with 56; and empathy 92 – 94, 97, 99, 102; self-consciousness 106 – 108, 110
play and laughter with 79 – 80; and shame self-recognition 106 – 107
and guilt 114 shame 75, 117, 120; childhood
physiology 1, 5 – 8, 10, 13, 21, 23; and manifestations of 108 – 111; and early
affection 83; and anger 61 – 62; and signs of self-consciousness 106 – 108; and
empathy 94 – 95, 99; and fear and anxiety guilt 111 – 115
34, 42 – 43; and shame and guilt 108, 115; shyness 42 – 44, 46, 50
and surprise and disgust 25 siblings 15, 24, 63, 65, 82, 84 – 85; conflict
play 24, 37 – 40, 44, 46, 60, 66; and affection with 56 – 59; and emotional socialisation
84, 88; and shame and guilt 112; with 66 – 67; empathy and 93 – 94, 97, 102; play
siblings and peers 79 – 80 and laughter with 79 – 80
pleasure 3, 4, 17, 20, 80, 84; in one’s signals 5, 16 – 17, 20, 24, 46; anger and 53,
achievements 77 – 78 56; emotional 13, 36, 91, 96 – 98, 104;
possession claims 59 – 60 empathy and 92; sadness and 71; social
posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) 51 12 – 14, 18 – 19
preschool children see early childhood smiling 3, 12, 17 – 24, 18, 54, 56; and
primary school see middle childhood empathy 91, 96; and happiness 77 – 78, 80;
problem-solving 8, 73 and sadness 72; and shame and guilt 107
protest 37, 53 – 59, 54, 61, 67, 70 social challenges 42
psychological disorders 10, 115 – 117 social interaction 19 – 21, 53
psychopathology 115; developmental 9 – 10, socialisation 4, 8, 47 – 48, 63 – 68, 100 – 102,
120; parents’ 46 – 47 113; of shame 110 – 111
social norms 97, 108, 110, 115
quarrels 60 – 61 stimuli 7, 22, 28, 31, 48, 83; defensive
reactions to 33 – 34
reaction 1 – 2, 5 – 7, 9, 13, 16, 20 – 21; and Strange Situation 57, 87 – 89
affection 85, 87, 89; and anger 55 – 56, stress disorders 51; see also specific disorders
60 – 62, 64 – 65, 67 – 68; defensive 33 – 34; surprise 3, 4, 25 – 28, 26 – 27, 77 – 78, 120
and empathy 92; and fear and anxiety swearing 60
35 – 38, 41 – 43, 45 – 47, 51; and sadness
71 – 73; and shame and guilt 107 – 109, taunts 60
112 – 113, 115; and surprise and disgust temperament 8 – 9, 23 – 24, 50, 66, 113, 116;
25, 30; of very young children to people’s anger and 62; attachment and 87 – 88;
distress 93 – 94 fearful 41 – 46, 48, 75 – 76, 115; fearless
recognition 14, 28, 71, 78, 86; empathy and 104; irritable 16 – 17
91, 96 – 97, 104; of expressions of disgust temper tantrums 54, 58 – 59, 59, 71, 75, 107
30 – 31; of expressions of surprise 27; of toddlers 11, 18, 24; and affection 84, 88; and
mother 83 – 84; of other people’s smiles anger 55, 57, 59 – 60, 62, 68; and empathy
20; self-recognition 106 – 107 93, 102 – 103; and fear and anxiety 36,
regulation 5, 9, 12, 14, 120; and anger 59, 41 – 44, 46, 50, 52; and happiness 78; and
65; and empathy 98; and inhibitory shame and guilt 107, 109, 112 – 113, 116
control 62 – 63; physiological 7 – 8; and toys 20, 26, 36 – 41, 46 – 47; anger and
sadness 72; and shame and guilt 113 55 – 56, 60, 63; empathy and 101; shame
responsiveness 12, 17, 19 – 20, 44, 82; and guilt and 109, 112
and empathy 100, 104; of parents
to smiles 21 unfamiliarity 20, 22, 25, 44, 46, 48; affection
risk-taking 40 and 83, 87, 90; anger and 56; fear and
37 – 39, 38, 41 – 42
sadness 70 – 71, 70, 120; and affection 85; United Kingdom (UK) 2
and anger 55 – 58, 61, 65, 68 – 69; in United States (US) 37, 39 – 40, 49, 51, 111,
childhood 72 – 76; and empathy 91, 115
94 – 95, 97, 101; and fear and anxiety 36;
and happiness 77, 80; in infancy 71 – 72; verbal expressions 59 – 61, 61, 73
and shame and guilt 111 – 112; and the visual cliff 34 – 35, 35, 96