Noted: a never-ending debate's real purpose is to either make us mad or make us think
Here's the deal. We all know the age-old argument about whether nature or nurture has a bigger impact on the way creatures develop. We constantly search for proof of any kind in order to show the other side up. Genetics vs experience. Ancestry vs family. Life itself vs the meaning of life. Which one is it?
We talked extensively about this topic in my psychology class last year. It truly seemed there was going to be a riot at one point. These people were firm that it's all about what we're made of. Those other people were absolutely certain that it's all based on our environment.
No one would budge. Not a step.
Of course, there had to be an epiphany of some sort. A great answer to the debate that would stop the not-fighting and allow us to move on with class. And let the quiet group of people who hadn't claimed to be on either side express their thoughts without being on the receiving end of a hundred glares. Our professor stood up, asked once again which was right and then gently answered, "why not both?"
I swear, it was like the idea of both nature and nurture greatly affected creatures' lives hadn't even existed til that point. Judging by the look on some people's faces, it certainly hadn't been a possibility to them. I don't say this in a condescending way. I'm not trying to make fun of my previous classmates' opinions. I'm just trying to prove the point that we get so caught up in the debate itself, not the actual topics, that we just forget that everything has an impact on our lives. From my slight colorblindness that my parents so lovingly gave me to the ruptured ACL I experienced last year, everything in my life affects my life. We just have to remember that this debate is about comparing those impacts and not about arguing which is better. Because quite honestly, it doesn't really matter. Sure, one day we may learn that one or the other really does impact us more. That doesn't mean the other idea doesn't exist.
Nurture, what we experience
As I see it, the idea of what we are vs what happens to us can lead to two things. Madness or thoughtfulness. Most of the world goes with madness. They argue simply to argue. Opinions once based on solid logic or clear evidence is twisted into the simple arguments of a maddened human being. Mark Derr's idea of wolfdogs domesticating themselves when reproducing no longer was possible without human assistance due to changes in size is thrown out the window and instead replaced with half-baked ideas about a sudden mass mutation or a certain 'friendly' gene becoming more common. All their own statements, sure, but not usually ones based on evidence and knowledgeable inferences.
Or think about Clive Wynne's very solid point about how genetics provide a baseline for canine domestication, but it's the experiences at a young age that allow dogs to imprint and love other beings. Wynne's argument is backed by many examples of how environment affects dogs early on and he even made it clear that there's a lot more going on that we can't necessarily prove or explain yet. But we're so caught up in arguing, we ignore these amazing points and instead insist that simply petting a dog once will form an instant connection that will last for all eternity and against all trials.
Image source: puppy by trainer24
Arguing like puppies playing tug of war
There is a point to all my rambling. Derr and Wynne both have their own unique ideas. Unique is an understatement actually, perhaps so-on-their-own-level-that-we-can't-hope-to-even-compare-them is more accurate. These two authors, researchers, each have very different opinions. Their points could be used to argue for either side. But rather than arguing, maybe it's time to go with the second purpose of this debate.
Think! That's all. Not try to convince someone else that you're right, not write an essay on your opinion, not even decide on a side. Just think about it.
The way people breed dogs changes what they look like. This selective breeding makes some dogs' characteristics more human-like. Just that little piece of an idea from Derr gives you so much to ponder. What type of dogs do we focus on breeding? What did they look like before? How do dogs that we breed less change in appearance? What about dogs that we don't breed at all? What counts as a more human-like quality? Are all the characteristics physically visible or are there potentially unseen changes?
Dogs' bonds to previous owners fade over time. Wynne's idea seems even smaller than Derr's. But it leads to just as much thinking. What is considered a bond? How long does it take to form a bond or to lose it? Can a bond be rekindled? What would prevent the bond from fading? Is this really so different from how people's friendships can fade? Is the fading a result of forgetting or of less love?
I don't agree or disagree with either Derr or Wynne. That seems like I just don't want to take a side, which is lame. We're supposed to observe other people's opinions and decide what we want to agree with and what we choose to discard. But both gave me so much to think about that my head might just explode. And I believe that's the real reason why we should be reading these chapters and others like them. We don't have to form our opinion right now. Even if we do form an opinion it by no means has to stay the same forever. Rather, we need to think about all these different factors.
To me, dogs are amazing. They have an infinite amount of personalities, bodies, histories, futures. That breed of dog may be domestic because it's long-dead wolf ancestor ate garbage from a family's home. That other breed may hate most humans because it and its ancestors have all been with a group of sloths since birth with no previous interaction with people. At this time, we can never truly know all of the impacts nature and nurture have had on dogs. Nor can we completely decide on if one impacts dogs more than the other. But we can keep thinking. And that's just what I plan to do.
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