Long before having children I felt pretty firm in the belief that nurture plays the dominant role in an individual’s development. In hindsight, this would make sense because I was judging it solely on the first person perspective of my own formative years. To me, there seemed to be many moments of my childhood that were pivotal; consequential factors that bore unequivocal etchings on my juvenile tabla rasa. But the trouble with first person perspectives is that one’s own behaviour tends to only appear more susceptible to external influences than is necessarily true. This really should be no surprise considering the difficulty every one of us has in understanding our own motives and actions. Actions beyond our comprehension, no matter how hard we try to understand them, are easier to accept as being dictated from without rather than from within.

Another reason that I’ve previously found the nature argument difficult to swallow is that by accepting it you are lead to start questioning free will. This is often a snag caused by the woolly jumper of prima facie reality catching on the doornail of philosophical scrutiny. The whole construct of society rests upon an assumption of free will. That we freely determine our own thoughts and actions is also what many of us take to be the essence of life itself. To accept that there’s no such thing as free will - that we are just billions upon billions of atoms in a constant chain of pre-determined cause and effect too complex to be within our computation - starves the sentient human mind of morality and motivation. On the other hand, it could only be this very day-to-day ignorance that allows us to happily continue with our lives believing in the sincerity of our apparent choices.

With time, however, I have not been able to get past the impression that nurture is simply fine tuning. The best way I can think of to explain my view is by means of an analogy.

One is not born and handed a songbook. One does not necessarily sing the harmonies played out at the rehearsals that one has no choice but to attend. Rather, a human spirit is born with an instrument that they will spend the rest of their lives playing. They will learn to tune it. They will learn its dimensions, its capabilities, its limitations. If they are lucky, their environment will aid them in this education and present to them the insights and the opportunities to make the most of their apparatus; to make the most beautiful of music. The unfortunate among us, meanwhile, may spend our lives attempting to play Fur Elise with the tambourine, a symphony on a tin whistle or jazz with a harp.

It is of my opinion, therefore, that education should be adaptive. It also follows that the aspirations you have for your children might not necessarily be the ones best suited for them. Which leads me to another theory: whatever a child truly wishes to pursue at the age of ten is what they should pursue (and be encouraged and supported to do so) for the rest of their lives. At this age, a child is in a magical position of being self-aware enough to express confidence and love for what is best attuned to their sensibilities and talents, but also too young to start rationalising a different path.

When I was ten I wanted to be a football journalist. At the very least I certainly wanted to write. I would sit in my bedroom listening to commentaries of games on 5Live and make notes. As soon as the game was over I would write a report in the style of the big game coverage I would regularly read in the newspapers, except most of the time my article would far exceed the word count the red tops would allocate the next day for something like Birmingham City vs. Millwall! Although I dropped this aspiration after a year or two, the motivation to write has never left me. The encouragement from within to do so has hastened with regularity regardless of the importance I extended to it at the time.

Not only have I become convinced of my ‘nature before nurture’ view but also by committing to this belief I have gained a greater self-assurance. I acknowledge the things I have to work patiently and hard at because they don’t suit my natural tendencies. I also don’t question the things that I show more of a flair for. I think the beginning of this commitment was when I was sixteen and on my first day of college, on the basis of my GCSE results, I changed every single one of my A level subject choices. Rather than follow the path that I felt was most noble, impressive or worthy I chose the things that I was both best at and enjoyed the most. It was a bold decision, one made with my heart rather than my head, and one that has held influence at other subsequent junctures in my life.

We spend so much energy trying to understand who we are and to reconcile our habits, loves and pursuits with an inner truth. We look to the world to help us find our place on the baking tray being biscuit dough already cut. Nobody needs a world to shape them or make them, they just need a world to take them and bake them.

This month's favourites:
   Semisonic, All About Chemistry
   Alex Garland, The Beach
   La La Land (2016)