I am a hyper-curious person, and curiosity is an important value in my life … as well as an important impact of museums.

But curiosity isn't limited to museums, and can be hard to sustain through adulthood. By sharing some of my curious paths through reading, I'm hoping to reinforce how important wide-ranging curiosity is to our practice and spark new conversations that may seem unrelated to museums, but deeply matter to how we do our work. After all, as museums we cover a variety of topics. Our curiosity should also be as omnivorous!

To that end, here's a new installment of some of my wide-ranging reads (mostly non-fiction) I hope to hear recommendations from you!

Mahogany: The Costs of Luxury in Early America, by Jennifer L. Anderson
The older I get, the more I feel I have head-slap moments. Reading Mahogany was one. Of course it was crop made possible by enslaved labor. Of course it was clear-cut to enable sugar plantations. And of course the harvesting of mahogany has significant environmental repercussions. I was blinded by the amazingly beautiful wood and the furniture and objects it makes possible. Now, I am looking at the handful of mahogany pieces I have, as well as those in museum collections, with new eyes.


The Revenge of Analog, by David Sax
Over the past 20 years, our society has seemed to promote that digital is the future, and analog options are for dinosaurs or luddites. Yet we all live in an analog world. David Sax investigates a hypothesis that analog is often superior, and explores when it is, how, and why. This is, by no means, a rejection of digital progress, but instead an embracing of a hybrid existence that values and supports how we can make choices for our very human lives.

It was interesting reading this book, which is grounded in a pre-pandemic world, and then look at the digital experiment we all participated in during the pandemic. If anything, the pandemic made Sax's case as humans sought (and missed) human contact and IRL experiences. Indeed, the 2021 Annual Survey of Museum-Goers found that fewer than half of regular museum-goers (our most avid fans) participated in virtual content from museums during the pandemic … but they are anxious to return to our IRL experiences, objects, plants, animals, and spaces. I also had to chuckle at Sax's observation that the people pushing digital technology the most are Baby Boomers who are afraid of appearing out-of-step with young adults. Guess what museum-goer demographic participated in virtual content from museums the most during the pandemic? Adults over 60.


Blood at the Root: A Racial Cleansing in America, by Patrick Phillips
This one hit close to home for me, as it explores the racial violence of Forsyth County, Georgia in 1912, when it went sundown, as well as the ongoing "whites only" nature of the county that existed into the 1990s. I grew up about 20 miles away from Forsyth County, and I remember Hosea Williams leading protests there in the late 80s. This chilling book lays out the racial terror that wasn't uncommon in America at that time, and how it continues, even today, to affect this community. I found it difficult to read, yet one of the most important books I've read lately. I'm sending my sister a copy.


Have a suggestion for my reading list?  Email it to me at susie (at) wilkeningconsulting (dot) com.

Why I Picked It Up

A lot of my work around inclusion in museums is with history museums and understanding the how and why different people can be exposed to the same set of facts and draw incredibly different conclusions. Example: Confederate monuments.

More Traditional approaches to the past argue that by removing the monuments, we erase the past and don't learn from mistakes of the past (and they ignore the facts about why the monuments were erected in the first place). To more Neoteric audiences, this is perplexing as removing racist monuments doesn't erase the past … especially when there are museums and historic sites that are better suited to sharing that history.

Germany has a very different approach: one that remembers the atrocities of World War II, but without statues to Hitler, Himmel, or other Nazi leaders. What can we learn from that?

Review

For years, Germans adhered to a mythology that the men in the German army were good people who fought in defense of their country, and only the leadership were responsible for the atrocities of WWII. About 20 years ago, however, that myth was totally busted by an exhibition that traveled around Germany and made the case that atonement is the responsibility of nearly everyone.

WWII was only 80 years ago. For twice as long, many white Americans (many of southern descent, but not always) have been adhering to a similar mythology: their forefathers fought in defense of country and for noble causes. Many note their ancestors either 1 - didn't own slaves or 2 - were good masters (their wording in both cases). As if either are defensible in a social system that benefitted white people by exploiting and torturing millions of individuals.

Not all white southerners perpetuate this mythology. I don't, for one. I feel remorse for what my ancestors did, I know my family (and I) have a legacy of privilege because of this past, and I try to advocate for a more inclusive society now. I think reparations are necessary. But what is the difference between my ideology and the millions who think otherwise? How do we productively encourage the soul-searching and atonement required of all of us?

Neiman notes that in American public memory and discourse, we throw the word "Nazi" around, but we have no real understanding of what led to the rise of fascism in the first place. Heck, most people don't even really know what fascism is. Yet stepping back and understanding the causes of hate is crucial … for understanding the how and why of Nazism, but also for America today.

And that is why when those who are more inclusive compare American slavery to the Holocaust, those who are less inclusive get their hackles up. How can American slavery compare to the murder of more than six million Jews? Their visceral, defensive response prevents them from actually examining the historical record. The Nazis were inspired by American slavery and post-war segregationist laws as well as the genocide of tens of millions of Native Americans after European invasion.

But we can compare. Not to prove that one event caused more or less harm than another, but because these events are all atrocities meriting critical study, atonement, reparations, and reconciliation. That is, comparative redemption, not comparative evil, as Neiman writes.

Tzvetan Todorov suggests that "Germans should talk about the singularity of the Holocaust, Jews should talk about its universality." If we take the same approach, whites should talk about, and take responsibility for, the singularities of both American slavery and Native American genocide … and we should not talk about its universality. White people talking about its universality is a form of denial. Yet as a researcher, I see white people trying to talk about the universality of our past all the time. "White slavery" comes up in comments from museum-goers often enough that I have actually coded for it. That is disgraceful.

All of this begs the question: is history a way to think about the future, or is it a comfort? For many white people, it is a comfort. And that discomfort they feel when confronted with American slavery and genocide represents a mismatch of expectations, where comfort is rooted in privilege and white supremacy, and the discomfort manifests itself in guilt, shame, anger, or even rage. (We saw that come to fruition at the US Capitol on January 6th.)

Who are the aggressors, and who are the victims?

• "… it takes time to realize that one was a perpetrator before one was a victim and that one became a victim because one began as a perpetrator. But if we don't believe that self-knowledge and conversion and building a society based on human rights is possible, then the damage starts all over again." - Friedrich Schorlemmer

After WWII, it took time for Germans to see themselves as the aggressors, and not the victims. (Are you responding with shock here? Me too. But this is important.)

Of course many Germans suffered during and after the war; that was their lived experience. They were bombed, had loved ones die violent deaths, and suffered hunger and pain.

Moving past that suffering, and understanding the harm caused to others, is where atonement comes. And it may take generations, with those who did not experience the suffering themselves being the ones to reach atonement. Which begs another question of why Americans can't get there, since the suffering that happened in the South during and after the Civil War is not in the lived experience of any of us? Why do so many still have the victim mentality?

I was still contemplating this when I explored Richard Supa Josey's storifyme that brilliantly lays out generational historical trauma. Richard's writing primarily in the context of the African American experience, but Neiman argues that generational historical trauma also exists for the families of the aggressors, and it can manifest in different ways: depression, mental illness, anger, aggression. (Sound familiar?) Should we be thinking about generational historical trauma when it comes to white supremacists and those who are not inclusive? Bear with me for this thought exercise (as much as it may go against your instincts; it did mine, at first), not to evoke sympathy but to instead understand the causes of hate.

There was suffering during and after the Civil War, which for many whites manifested in anger and grievance as victims. This doesn't mean that those the whites had enslaved didn't suffer more (they did), but instead an acknowledgement that suffering was widespread and yes, it included white people. We have to acknowledge that suffering to understand the effects of it today that are so harmful to our society.

For some families of white people, that suffering (and the outcomes) are a form of generational historical trauma that continues to manifest itself, as we keep seeing with right-wing riots and aggression. Additionally, it takes a lot to admit your parents, or grandparents, or ancestors were world-historically wrong. That doesn't excuse clinging to that wrongness, or defending it. But for those who want to effect change, understanding the difficulty can make it easier for us to help people take the necessary steps to effect changes in attitudes (rather than expecting them to make the leap without help). Thus, rethinking it in this way can help us address the problem and develop more effective solutions that actually contribute to greater equity and a more just society.

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I'll be honest. I found Neiman's chapters on Germany much more interesting than the chapters she wrote about the United States and Confederate monuments. I'm deeply familiar with our story, and the German story was something I had not examined much. In the book, Neiman spends several chapters exploring how race, slavery, and segregation are remembered in the South, particularly in Mississippi. I found these chapters compelling, thoughtful, and appreciated how she sought out a variety of perspectives. By doing so, she makes the case for change, but also recognizes the humanity of those who hold values that fall in the repugnant range of the spectrum. It is only by recognizing that humanity that we can find a place to start conversations that may change minds and develop more inclusive attitudes. And this takes a painfully long time, especially when so many internalize the events of the past in incredibly personal ways, and see judgements about the past as personal judgements.

Neiman concludes by saying we need to do more than simply apologize for slavery. We need to make good on the sins it caused … sins that continue to be felt today. Reparations are necessary. And I emphatically agree.

​But to do reparations with justice requires us, as a country, to rethink our history. And in my research on behalf of history museums, that is something most Americans are loathe to do. Instead, we get significant numbers of people making comments like "don't rewrite the past." For many, there is an instinctive aversion to that more honest assessment that requires us to acknowledge that the United States (and its residents) has been less than honorable. Right now, based on what I see in the attitudes of so many Americans, I don't know we will get to that more just and equitable society anytime soon.

Read or skip? Read. I thought this book was well-written, thoughtful, and compelling.

Full citation:  Neiman, Susan. Learning from the Germans: Race and the Memory of Evil. New York: Picador, 2019/2020.

Have a suggestion for my reading list?  Email it to me at susie (at) wilkeningconsulting (dot) com.

I am a hyper-curious person, and curiosity is an important value in my life … as well as an important impact of museums.

Here's a new installment of some of my wide-ranging reads (mostly non-fiction). I hope to hear recommendations from you!

Crap: A History of Cheap Stuff in America, by Wendy Woloson
Look around you. Do you see a lot of crap? (I know I do.) Crap is pervasive in our modern lives. This delightful book explores the history of American crap (from tinkers to the Franklin Mint to Beanie Babies!), its meaning in our lives, the psychological effects of it, and hints at the negative impact its creation and disposal has on the environment. As a lapsed material cultural historian, I delighted in delving into crap, and thinking about the role of crap in my own life.

The Cooking Gene, by Michael Twitty
As a Georgian in Seattle, sometimes I viscerally miss the southern food that I grew up around. I'm also interested in how complicated our past is. While I knew southern food has a complex history, Michael Twitty's book made me think about it more rigorously and exposed far more nuance than I knew. But my biggest takeaway was rethinking genealogy. As a white person, the obsession of other whites about their genealogy often made me uncomfortable, as if it was a way of proving superiority (along with the privilege of being able to do it relatively easily). Twitty points out that for African Americans, it is a reclamation of family and identity. I'll think about genealogy differently, thanks to him.

The Library of Legends, by Janie Chang
At the beginning of WWII, Chinese universities moved inland and carried with them treasures of learning in the form of ancient books and manuscripts. This novel imagines one such journey, as students hand-carry The Library of Legends on their trek inland, facing exhaustion, hunger, and exposure to crippling poverty along the way. As they do so, the immortals across China awaken and have their own exodus. I loved this book for so many reasons, but my mind keeps turning back to the question "when did magic leave this world?" The Library of Legends presents a compelling answer.


Have a suggestion for my reading list?  Email it to me at susie (at) wilkeningconsulting (dot) com.

I am a hyper-curious person, and curiosity is an important value in my life … as well as an important impact of museums.

But curiosity isn't limited to museums, and can be hard to sustain through adulthood. By sharing some of my curious paths through reading, I'm hoping to reinforce how important wide-ranging curiosity is to our practice and spark new conversations that may seem unrelated to museums, but deeply matter to how we do our work. After all, as museums we cover a variety of topics. Our curiosity should also be as omnivorous!

To that end, here's a new installment of some of my wide-ranging reads (mostly non-fiction) I hope to hear recommendations from you!

​Visionary Women, by Andrea Barnet.
The 20th century saw radical change, and four women were crucial in helping us rethink how we used chemicals, thought about our cities, viewed animals, and considered what we ate. A collection of mini-biographies of Rachel Carson, Jane Jacobs, Jane Goodall, and Alice Waters, this book helped me think about how these women were radical in their time, yet deeply influenced mainstream behavior today. May their influence continue. (BTW, this book was well-written, making it an effortless read as well.)


Born in the USA: Birth, Commemoration, and American Public Memory, ed. By Seth C. Bruggeman
This volume, published in 2012, feels a bit quaint as it didn't imagine the extreme nationalism that the election of 2016 gave voice to. Reading this in 2020, it also felt like a constant talking about everything but the elephant in the room, the elephant being that historic birthplaces were often founded to honor white men and as a fearful reaction to a diversifying America. The introduction did acknowledge this, "… each one was born of the fear that its story about the past might be eclipsed by a competing narrative," there was an essay about the W.E.B. DuBois birthplace, and the conclusion addresses gender. But overall what a lost opportunity to think more critically about why so many of these places are preserved as museums. I wish that writers in this book had been brave enough to address this directly.


A Generation of Sociopaths: How The Baby Boomers Betrayed America, by Bruce Cannon Gibney.
It is so tempting to blame the ills of American society on a single generation. Wouldn't it be nice and convenient (especially if one is, say, a Gen Xer like the author … and me)? Tons of data is thrown at this primary thesis, but the central premise fails to convince because there are external factors that come into play and because it is dangerous to lump a single generation together in this (condemnatory) way. Additionally, while there are many ills we can blame on the Boomers, it is an open question if another generation, given the same circumstances, would behave differently. So read it for the provocation, consider the merits critically, and remember: people are idiosyncratic and everyone (and every generation) is going to respond to their environment and situation differently. Learning and progress are not linear. And we all have to take responsibility and roll up our sleeves to solve our problems.
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(I also noted that the author extols younger generations for all the good they do … such as the unmitigated good of social media. Yeah, you read that right. The author also was an early funder of Facebook, so he may be a bit biased. And clueless.)


Have a suggestion for my reading list?  Email it to me at susie (at) wilkeningconsulting (dot) com.

I love infographics. I present much of my research via infographics.

Sadly, I'm not that talented (though I am pretty proud of my Data Stories and work with a fantastic graphic designer to make my ugly sketches into beautiful reality).

I also love to share my infographic inspiration with you! Here, in my third installment of "Infographic Inspiration," I focus on how graphics can be used to tell a story.

I am a hyper-curious person, and curiosity is an important value in my life … as well as an important impact of museums.

But curiosity isn't limited to museums, and can be hard to sustain through adulthood. By sharing some of my curious paths through reading, I'm hoping to reinforce how important wide-ranging curiosity is to our practice and spark new conversations that may seem unrelated to museums, but deeply matter to how we do our work. After all, as museums we cover a variety of topics. Our curiosity should also be as omnivorous!

To that end, here's a new installment of some of my wide-ranging reads (mostly non-fiction) I hope to hear recommendations from you!

Black Lives, Native Lands, White Worlds: A History of Slavery in New England, by Jared Hardesty.
For most people, including many history museum-goers, slavery = the South. But slavery thrived in New England, and this book frames the expanse and depth to which it took and how New Englanders profited mightily from it. I found this book to be an easy-to-read survey of a complicated and challenging topic … and illustrates how much more there is to learn from the past, especially when it comes to topics some would prefer to ignore.


Past Imperfect: Facts, Fictions, Fraud, by Peter Charles Hoffer
The first half of the book is deeply appreciated for laying out the history of American history. That is, what historians of the past were trying to accomplish, what their standards were, and why the white celebratory history they recorded was so deliberate and purposeful. Of course, that has become the canon for many, making it an obstacle to having more people accept a more inclusive history that is also more fraught (in that it lays out how white Europeans were not always the benevolent masters of those they enslaved, for just one example). Understanding this history of American history is extremely helpful for understanding the viewpoints of many of our visitors, as well as what is at stake for those visitors when a more inclusive history is shared. If we can't navigate their fear, our work is much harder.  (Second half of book explores case studies of historians who have broken ethical rules; interesting, but not why I picked it up.)

The Widows of Malabar Hill, by Sujata Massey
I loved this novel so much, as it hit me just right as a mind-opening book to another country and its culture, religions, human rights, and past. Perveen Mistry is a female lawyer in 1920 Bombay, restricted by her gender, yet finding a pathway to assist women in need of help. There's mystery, there's unfairness, and there is hope. I loved stretching my worldview and empathy. It was a delight to read and I can't wait to read the sequel. Additional note: Perveen's experiences also give us a different view of quarantining that is downright horrifying. If you read it, you'll see exactly what I mean.


Have a suggestion for my reading list?  Email it to me at susie (at) wilkeningconsulting (dot) com.

Why I picked it up: My research keeps showing that people who are curious have better overall outcomes in life. That is, taking in a breadth of information through informal learning appears to give people greater resources from which to draw, helping them in their educations, their careers, their family formation, and their health and well-being. When I heard about this book last year, I immediately put it on my to-read list as it seemed to have a similar finding … it just took me over a year to get to it.

Thesis of book: There is a lot of conventional wisdom that in order to be successful in the 21st century, you have to specialize and go deep in your area of expertise. But that may not be an accurate statement for most of us.

In this book, Epstein suggests that if we commit early and deeply to one thing, we may not actually be playing to our own strengths, and while some will still (luckily) flourish, more won't. But if we have a chance to sample many things, during a period he calls the "sampling period," we can suss out what our own strengths are more effectively, focus later … and have years of experiences from which to draw as we go deep into our areas of expertise. And that cross-pollination matters. It makes for better inventors, innovators, and thinkers as they draw from their different experiences to enhance and create in their own work.

In fact, going deep can make us blinkered if we don't balance it with some breadth … and our work can suffer.

How this intersects with museum research/practice: Museums, being in the curiosity business, are perfectly positioned to give visitors breadth by introducing new topics, ideas, perspectives, and areas of interest. And that is how some museum-goers use museums, especially those that are eudaemonically curious: expanding their minds and making connections between things that seem disconnected (or, in other words, not being "cognitively entrenched").

But many museum-goers use museums differently, primarily for deepening knowledge in their interest areas.  Some even resist content that takes them out of their comfort-zone and shares different worldviews.

How, then, can museums be more deliberate about stretching people's interests to new areas, sparking curiosity and expanding worldviews? And how do we do this in ways that even the most resistant visitor welcomes? THAT is a big, tricky question (and one very much on my mind).

Read or skip?  In many ways, this is a typical journalistic take on a topic that, on the surface, appears confounding to most. If it pretty formulaic in that way: full of anecdotes and stories, reads easily, a bit repetitive, and refers to scholars as well as practitioners. It is not an academic read. So if you want an easy and enjoyable read on the subject, go for it. There wasn't much (or really anything) my research disagreed with.

But if you are looking for new insights beyond this review, then peruse the book's bibliography and go deep (and broad) as desired. Or email me at susie (at) wilkeningconsulting (dot) com and ask for my running notes.

Full citation:  Epstein, David. Range: Why Generalists Triumph in a Specialized World. New York: Riverhead Books, 2019.


Have a suggestion for my reading list?  Email it to me at susie (at) wilkeningconsulting (dot) com.

Why I picked it up: I came across the phrase "moving at the speed of trust," referring to the pacing of social justice work. I have been struggling with how to talk about the pacing of inclusive work in museums, especially given how some audiences would respond more effectively to a more measured pace (versus a fast pace that might alienate them), and this phrase struck me as helpful. So, I followed the source and it led to this book.

What I learned: There were some key concepts that I found helpful in this book:
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• Emergent strategy: a strategy for building complex patterns and systems of change through relatively small interactions. I think this is a smart strategy because, in museums, it is those small, incremental building blocks of learning that helps us open minds to other perspectives … and more inclusive content.
• Imagination battle: the way our imaginations create fears, and we also have to imagine our way out of them. This is an interesting way to think about racism. White people who are actively racist are imagining how people of color could harm them … and anti-racists have to battle that by imagining a more equitable world. Where it becomes particularly fascinating is that what racist white people imagine as a fear is perceived, at times, to be what anti-racist people are actually striving for, which makes this work so hard.
• Moving at the "speed of trust": the incremental changes made in individual viewpoints towards inclusion is going to happen at different speeds for different people … some are ready for a fast pace, but others will get there too if we adjust the pace to a slower one, giving them time to trust, process, understand, and address their individual fears. The point is, if we go too fast, we'll lose our opportunity entirely, so we have to move at the speed of trust. And museums have a lot of trust, so we should consider how to use that trust to result in the most impact. That may mean a slower pace than is fair (because it isn't fair!), but one that actually gets us to the goal. This is a marathon, not a sprint. 

While these concepts excited me … the rest of the book, to be honest, was a letdown. I wanted to love this book and tell everyone to read it … but I didn't. Overall, I felt the book meandered and needed a strong editor, and when there were sections that were super-clear and concise I became even more frustrated because the rest of the book wasn't similarly clear. I skimmed a lot.  There were also whole sections that felt very self-help … and while that isn't a bad thing (and is often a good thing), that wasn't what I was looking for.

Yet there were also alternate approaches to others and societal issues that I have not considered before, and I am now chewing on. I don't know that they will ever become my approaches, but I am willing to consider them as valid.

Read or skip? Likely skip. I pulled from it what I felt was relevant (the concepts above), but I found my frustrations with the writing were enough to make me not recommend. Unless you found something of particular interest in this review, then skip. I'm still glad to have at least skimmed it.

Full citation: Brown, Adrienne Maree. Emergent Strategy: Shaping Change, Changing Worlds. Chico, CA: AK Press, 2017.

Have a suggestion for my reading list?  Email it to me at susie (at) wilkeningconsulting (dot) com.

Why I picked it up: see my review of the introduction to this book: "The Field of Prosocial Behavior: An Introduction and Overview"  
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What you need to know: Part 1 focused on prosocial behavior at the individual level. I found the following articles particularly interesting, and have bulleted out my takeaways to make it easier to internalize. It's still a very long post, mostly because I found so much to be relevant. Finally, you'll see I added commentary that I connected with museums, our current state mid-pandemic, and other research (identified at beginning of bullet at "SMW comments"). 

• "The Economics of Prosocial Behavior," Eric van Dijk.
  • Classic economic theory assumes humans are rational, but behaving in prosocial ways isn't always rational and often comes at economic cost (such as giving money to charity). Behavioral economics, however, does begin to describe why people engage in prosocial behavior … and how they benefit from it as well (such as reputationally when they give that money to charity). Generally, when societies support prosocial behavior, they tend to have higher levels of cooperation, to everyone's benefit. And, generally, societies that heavily sanction poor behavior have lower levels of cooperation … and fewer benefits.
    • SMW comments - Think about masks. When we cooperate and wear masks in a pandemic, we all benefit. And when we don't, well, we don't.
  • Most people can be classified as having a prosocial/cooperative personality, a competitive personality, or an individualistic personality. The individualistic one is highly self-interested, while competitors and prosocials consider the outcomes of others … competitors because they want to come out ahead, while prosocials (about half of adults) want to increase everyone's outcomes. Prosocials seem to be more concerned about "true fairness," while individualists and competitors are more likely to use fairness instrumentally, as a means to improve their own outcomes.
    • SMW comments - This is interesting. If this is personality type, then that suggests that, to some extent, it is how individuals are wired. And that doesn't jive so much with American Generosity, which explored how external factors and childhood upbringing and adult peer groups affect generosity (which is, clearly, a prosocial behavior). Taking our behaviors during this pandemic as an example, this suggests that there appears to be a correlation with political persuasion, with conservatives more likely to be individualistic, and liberals more prosocial.
  • People are more generous if they know more details about the people they are helping. That's why appeals that tell stories about those helped tend to do better than appeals that are simply statistics.

 

• "The Development of Prosocial Behavior," Nancy Eisenberg, Natalie D. Eggum-Wilkens, and Tracy L. Spinrad. - Reviews theories around the development of prosocial behavior, especially in childhood.
  • Early childhood. Explores Hoffman's Theoretical Model for empathetic responding, which posits that capacity for empathy begins during infancy. Around two to three years, "veridical empathy" begins, which is the awareness of others' needs and feelings, and responding to them in other-oriented ways (that is, trying to comfort in ways someone may wish to be comforted). By late childhood, the capacity for "empathy for another's life condition" develops, right around when the ability to think abstractly develops, which is a valuable progression as it can develop into broader awareness of issues and prosocial activism.
  • Middle Childhood. Generally, it had been supposed prosocial behavior increases as children get older, but a number of trajectory studies indicates that prosocial behaviors appear to decrease through the elementary-school years, especially in studies of boys.
    • SMW comments - I find this distressing. It is like we set kids up really well, but then we find it difficult to sustain it as kids get older. Is this because we, as parents and caregivers, have shifted our focus from social development to academic pursuits and extracurriculars? Are we doing our children a significant disservice in the process?
  • Adolescence. The research indicates that prosocial behavior in adolescence and early adulthood has some starts and stops, but tends to increase in late adolescence and early adulthood.
  • As individuals, we tend to be consistently prosocial in our lives. That is, those who were highly prosocial as children tend to be highly prosocial as adults, and vice versa.
  • Those with high levels of socio-cognitive and self-regulations skills, including emotion understanding and perspective taking, have higher levels of prosocial behaviors.
    • SMW comments - This makes sense to me. And now we're starting to talk business, because that cognitive bit is where I think museums come into play.
  • Origins of Prosocial Responding
    • Heredity - Some people are more wired for prosocial behaviors than others.
    • Parental Socialization - Through encouragement and modeling of behavior, warm and secure relationships with their children, and exhibiting high levels of emotional intelligence, parents affect the prosocial development of children throughout childhood and into adulthood. Additionally, authoritative parenting is linked with higher prosocial behaviors in children than authoritarian parenting. 
    • Nonparental Socialization - Such as teachers, peers, and siblings. Like with parents, having close, supporting relationships with siblings and peers tends to yield more prosocial behaviors, such as perspective taking. Teachers can also affect prosocial behaviors by the tone they set in their classrooms.
  • Role of Cultural and Subcultural Variation
    • There can be wide variations in prosocial behavior from culture to culture, with different cultures having different social norms. Typically, where prosocial behavior is prized, communal values are as well, and more aggressive and hostile cultures tend not to value prosocial behaviors as much.
    • Cultures that tend to assign children chores from a young age, value extended families, and appreciate the economic contributions of women in the household tend to raise more prosocial-oriented children. More "traditionally" cultured children tended to act more prosocial towards family members, and children raised in more "industrial" cultures tended to be more prosocial towards those who are not relatives. Cultures with more focus on individuals (more "Western") versus those focus more on communal needs (more "Eastern") show mixed differences which yield no conclusions that either is more prosocial.
    • There are some research studies that show that certain school-based programs can affect children's intrinsic motivation as well as prosocial behaviors, indicating that prosocial behavior can be nurtured outside of the home environment.
  • Overall conclusion is that prosocial behaviors are a mixture of nature and nurture, and that some children are more receptive to prosocial intervention than others.

• "Morality and Prosocial Judgments and Behavior," by Elliot Turiel
  • Explores the difference between prosocial behavior and moral judgments. Whereas prosocial behavior are actions to benefit others with no expectation of a reward (and often at some degree of sacrifice), moral judgments refer to the cognitive aspects of morality, including conceptualizing and reasoning about moral issues. This isn't to say that they are not connected, or even that there is no overlap in them; there can be. Sometimes, the moral judgments stem from times when prosocial reasoning is necessary to overcome laws, authorities, and potential punishments in order to then proceed to action (civil disobedience would be an example).
  • Overall discussion of how we weigh greater good, with actions against trust and honesty. When is it OK to lie in order to prevent/cause something else to happen that may, on balance, be better? How does that line vary with maturity, or based on the scenario given? What happens when it is a matter of fairness? What happens if exercising one's right to do something negatively affects a different right … or another's rights?

• "The Contextually Grounded Nature of Prosocial Behavior: A Multiscale, Embodied Approach to Morality," by J. Scott Jordan and Eric D. Wesselmann
  • Immediately posits that the world isn't black-and-white, prosocial or antisocial, but instead there is a lot of gray as we inhabit a "multiscale" world of peers, social groups, and cultural groups that influence our behavior and that may affect whether that behavior actually is prosocial or antisocial. For example, ostracism is seen as an antisocial behavior, but when used as a form of correction, it is prosocial, working towards the greater good (though this can be used for ill-purposes as well, such as in cults).
    • SMW comments - I would argue that ostracism can be taken to an extreme with cancel culture as well. That wasn't even a thing when this volume was released.
  • That being said, gives considerable discussion to how we respond prosocially to the actions of others. For example, two people engaged in discussion while sitting in rocking chairs are likely to rock synchronously, while two people ignoring each other don’t. This has repercussions for empathy, of course, and it is also somewhat related to Theory of Mind and how we think about the mental state of others. In so doing, we are constantly in a state of considering that mental state of others, as individuals one-on-one, but also as we operate in the multiscale.

• "Culture and Prosocial Behavior," by Irina Feygina and P.J. Henry 
  • Are some cultures more prosocial than others? Is it a degree of interpretation? Or, are some privately prosocial, and publicly less so (or vice versa)?
  • Prosocial behavior, and its rewards and punishments, has its own 3 Rs: reputation, reciprocation, and retribution. Engaging in prosocial behavior enhances reputation, aids in reciprocation, and failing to do so risks retribution.
  • Individualistic cultures have different types of prosocial expectations than more collective cultures, with the latter making more cooperative choices. That being said, collective cultures tend to be more prosocial within their ingroup, while individualist cultures tend be more even-handed toward both ingroup and outgroup individuals.
    • SMW comments - I get what they are saying, but I think it varies within those cultures as well. For example, the United States tends towards the individualistic side. But if we look at conservative and liberal attitudes, especially during this pandemic (and mask-wearing, as an indicator behavior), we see the opposite of what the authors are suggesting. That is, conservatives tend to be more individualistic, but are more prosocial within their ingroup; liberals are more collective, but are more even-handed toward both ingroup and outgroup.
  • The less wealth someone has, the greater the likelihood that individual will help others. They go on to note that lower SES individuals tend to behave more prosocially. It is hypothesized the lower SES individuals need other people more, which leads to that prosocial behavior, while higher SES are more independent, not putting them into the prosocial frame of mind as much.
    • SMW comments - this has been seen in other studies as well, with lower-income households often giving a higher percentage of their incomes to charity than high-income households.

Full citation:  Schroeder, David A. and Graziano, William G. "The Field of Prosocial Behavior: An Introduction and Overview." The Oxford Handbook of Prosocial Behavior, edited by David A. Schroeder and William G. Graziano, Oxford University Press, 2015.

Have a suggestion for my reading list?  Email it to me at susie (at) wilkeningconsulting (dot) com.

Why I picked it up: My work has helped me understand how vital curiosity is to individual life outcomes, from the practical (employment, etc.) to the prosocial (tolerance, inclusive, understanding). Curiosity is also something that museums, as well as other sources of informal learning, are good at sparking and cultivating.

Study after study shows that visiting museums tends to be an "inherited" trait, with parents who visit museums tending to raise children who are also museum-goers. But is curiosity also "inherited?" We know that a curious childhood tends to lead to a curious adulthood, but public schooling doesn't always nurture curiosity. When that desire to learn is missing, learning is far more difficult. Additionally, curiosity is an expensive, resource-intensive thing to cultivate. How can we raise new generations of curious children if curiosity isn't actually nurtured for many (most?) children?

This book examines the origins of curiosity in childhood, and I want to see where I find agreement as well as new ideas to consider and test.


What you need to know:

1. This book primarily explores the role of curiosity in childhood, mostly through the lens of the school experience. Engel notes that "curiosity is the linchpin of intellectual achievement," but illustrates at length the missed opportunities of formal education to nurture it.
2. "The best predictor of a child's curiosity was the mother's curiosity …" To which I say OMG yes, and that we have to do much better with moms (and other caregivers) in our museums. What do I mean? In my work, I've examined at length what I call the "parent bubble," which consists of a lot of parents that visit museums for their children, not with their children. That is an important distinction, because if mom (or dad, or any other caregiver) isn't engaged and modeling curiosity, the children are less likely to benefit from the museum visit.  (For more on the "parent bubble," see my Data Story: "Families, Their Needs, and Museums." You can find more Data Stories about families and parents here.)
3. Curiosity is contagious among children. That is, curious children can encourage and model curiosity in ways that less curious children then practice curiosity. Curious children lift up other children.

My issue with the book: While I felt this was a solid introduction to curiosity in children, there was one big issue I had with it: there was no mention that curiosity isn't equitable.

Engel didn't go into the social justice issues of curiosity at all, but falls into a common, but incorrect, assumption that curiosity is free and risk-free. It isn't. It takes a ton of resources to cultivate curiosity, and those resources (financial, time, energy, know-how, etc.) are not necessarily available in all, or even most, households. How do we, as a society, truly make curiosity free and accessible?

Additionally, what happens when curiosity is misunderstood, shut down, or even punished, making it too risky to express? I've come across some references that suggest the ways African American children sometimes express curiosity are often misinterpreted by white teachers as troublesome or distracting, and the curiosity is thus shut down (or even punished). We should also consider what happens if the pursuit of curiosity by a child (or adult) of color is perceived as threatening to whites (it shouldn't be, but we don't live in an ideal world).  In these cases, we have a serious equity issue. (Note - the idea that curiosity is too risky for some children is a newer consideration I am just beginning to learn about and I need to do my own literature review on it. *Head slap moment.*)

Bottom line, she didn't acknowledge that the pursuit of curiosity is a privilege of the haves.


Read or skip? If you are looking for an intro book on curiosity in children, this is a good choice, and there was general agreement with previous research on curiosity. Otherwise, no need to pick up. I personally did not find new ideas to consider or test (though this does not take away from it being a good primer.) 

Full citation:  Engel, Susan. The Hungry Mind: The Origins of Curiosity in Childhood. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2015.


Have a suggestion for my reading list?  Email it to me at susie (at) wilkeningconsulting (dot) com.