Via Community Playthings

Sarah Bensetiti

Secretary

Have you ever wondered about the origins of our morals? Are we, as humans, born with a natural inclination toward kindness as we might hope, or does the darkness we so often encounter in the world lie dormant within us from the very beginning? This profound question—whether babies enter the world inherently good or bad—strikes at the core of one of philosophy’s most enduring mysteries: the true nature of humanity. It invites us to consider whether we are moulded by our environments into beings of compassion or cruelty, or if our very genes script our fates toward one specific path As scientists and philosophers continue to delve deeper into the mysteries of early human behaviour, the age-old debate surrounding the purity—or peril—of our most primitive instincts illuminates as much about our own identities as it does about our younger selves.

The exploration of human nature has ignited philosophical discourse for centuries, with its modern roots in the Renaissance, an era when thinkers began to challenge long-held beliefs that children were merely miniature adults with obligations and duties much like those of their elders. Indeed, during Medieval Times, children who reached the age of seven or eight years old, commonly known as the age of reason at the time, were expected to shoulder responsibilities akin to those of grown-ups. They would be dressed like their parents and knew nothing of the colourful Fisher Price toys and pretend-play games we are privileged to experience as toddlers today. Thus, the Renaissance marked a shift as intellectuals began to see childhood as a distinct, formative stage, recognizing the value of allowing children to develop through their rich imagination and heightened senses. This recognition of childhood as a unique and crucial period in human development laid the foundation for more profound questions about the human condition, pushing us to reconsider our understanding of morality, identity, and what it ultimately means to be human.

The question of whether infants are blank slates, ready to be shaped by the world, or if they arrive bearing innate moral inclinations, was notably first addressed by philosopher Thomas Hobbes in the sixteenth century. Observing their unrelenting needs and unfiltered impulses, Hobbes put forth the doctrine of original sin, asserting that children are inherently self-centred and driven by egoism, requiring societal restraint to prevent chaos. To him, childhood is the critical period during which parents need to civilise their offspring, moulding them into productive, mature individuals capable of contributing to the greater good. Essentially, in his eyes, children, emerging from the “sin” of conception, are born with tendencies he described as almost demonic, inherently tied to humankind’s basest instincts and in need of moral guidance.

It was not until the 18th century that Hobbes’ doctrine of original sin faced serious challenge. Jean-Jacques Rousseau proposed the doctrine of innate purity, asserting that children are born with an intuitive sense of right and wrong, which society often corrupts with its deviant and greedy influences. Rousseau argued that parents should grant children the freedom to follow their naturally positive inclinations, fostering their inherent goodness rather than imposing societal constraints. Regardless, these two doctrines stood in complete opposition to one another, yet neither could be definitively proven or disproven, leaving the question unresolved for centuries.

The question of human nature remained a strictly philosophical debate until recent years, when new methods allowed us to explore the perspectives of babies—those too young to communicate through language yet perhaps already holding insights into morality. Yale University’s psychology department opened the pioneering Baby Lab, where researchers designed systematic experiments to test centuries-old theories about the origins of morality. Using puppets, they crafted scenarios to observe infants’ responses. In one experiment, babies watched as one puppet struggled to open a box and was helped by another puppet, while a third puppet slammed the box shut. Consistently, babies showed a preference for the helpful puppet, suggesting they may indeed have an inherent sense of morality.

However, the picture became more complex with the results of a follow-up experiment testing biases. Here, researchers investigated whether babies would still favour a helpful puppet if it displayed preferences different from their own. The puppets were each shown to favour either Cheerios or graham crackers. Most babies preferred Cheerios and gravitated toward the puppet with the same preference. Remarkably, when given the choice, they tended to choose the unhelpful puppet over the helpful one if the latter didn’t share their taste in snacks—almost as if punishing it for differing preferences. These findings prompt us to reconsider: Are babies truly as innately good as the first experiment suggested, or might the biases we see in daily life be inborn tendencies that emerge from the earliest stages of human development?

The question that has loomed over humanity for centuries remains intriguingly unresolved. Modern research suggests that we are born with the potential for both good and bad, and that our upbringing plays a crucial role in shaping which traits come to the forefront. In essence, society guides us in managing our darker tendencies, giving us the opportunity to choose goodness. But this insight raises yet another question: does this mean we can never fully eliminate the bad in the world?