Thoughts: Why shouldn't the pigeon drive the bus?
In one of Mo Willems’ funny and charming children’s stories, “Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus,” the title character begs the reader to let it drive. Pigeon’s classic strategies to convince the reader include:
I’ll be careful.
I never get to do anything.
I’ll be your best friend.
No fair!
Recently, my grandkids have added a strategy to these: “You don’t get to decide about me. Only I get to decide about me.”
But when one of them asked, “Why do adults get to decide for kids?,” I realized that answer wasn’t obvious.
Of course kids should sometimes (often? usually?) “get to decide about me.” This seems to be the default mode of modern, empowering parenting, which emphasizes giving the child more control and choices, and decreasing coercion. This mode lets children opt out of hugs from relatives, make non-gender-conforming choices, and express emotions and preferences past generations would have tried to quash. In short, the child’s autonomy—that is, their basic ability to guide their own behavior, and their interest in doing so—is increasingly recognized.
I think increased child empowerment is mostly good thing. After all, children are people. But sometimes—well, it’s a bad idea to let your grandchild decide to do something truly dangerous. And a few other classic limits on autonomy can also help grandparents, as well as parents, use the child empowerment approach as a teaching tool, but not as carte blanche for limit-free behavior.
Imminent danger: Protect
The first classic limit on autonomy is that it can be cancelled in emergencies or imminent danger. If a kid is about to walk in front of a bus, the idea goes, pushing them out of the way doesn’t violate their autonomy—actually, it honors their autonomy because it protects their precious life. So, why do adults get to decide for kids? Well, it’s our job to protect them.
Others’ choices: Respect
The second limit on autonomy is that one person’s unfettered choices need to stop when they interfere with the choices of another person. For example, I have the freedom to fling my fists around, but not the freedom to land my fist on your nose, given that your choice is to remain pain-free. To honor everyone’s autonomy, everyone’s right to choose need to be recognized. To make this work, it becomes everyone’s responsibility to avoid harming others. In little grandkid terms, this might mean that wiggling and jumping and running are all great choices, unless the activity hurts someone or breaks things that are important to someone.
Although the degree to which one person’s choices can interfere with another’s choices is incredibly contentious—familial, legal, and political disagreements over this fuels constant argument—the basic answer to my grandchild’s question is, “We’re reminding you of someone else’s choices.”
Ability to choose: Experience
The basic understanding of autonomy is that everyone has it. But the third limit classic limit recognizes that some people have limited ability to act autonomously. For example, bioethicists generally agree that people who have advanced dementia can no longer do so. This is because acting autonomously means that one is not merely acting, as from instinct or reflex, but acting with a goal in mind and with an ability to consider pros and cons—and people who have advanced dementia are no longer capable of holding goals in mind or considering consequences.
Similarly, while young children can express goals, they are typically said to lack full autonomy because they don’t have the experience and insight to properly consider the pros and cons of decisions. For example, I think it’s fair to say that most kids would give immunizations a pass, based on the fact that the shots hurt. It takes an adult to tell them that the minor, temporary pain of a shot is a good trade-off relative to, say, being paralyzed from polio.
Again, the specifics get complicated and contentious when considering just how much ability to consider pros and cons is needed. Should teens get to “decide about me,” so they can choose medical treatment, birth control, abortion, or gender affirming care without parents? Still, on many issues, why do adults get to decide for kids? Because adults have the experience and knowledge to better assess the pros and cons.
Should we let the pigeon drive?
The grandkids’ new mantra—“you don’t get to decide for me”—claims that they always get to decide.
Mo Willems’ pigeon argues that some of the limits don’t apply to its wish to drive the bus:
I’ll be careful. (I am thinking about pros and cons.)
I never get to do anything. (My choices have not been honored.)
I’ll be your best friend. (I see how my choice interferes with yours, but I’ll make it worth your while.)
No fair! (We both get to have our choice.)
So how do I respond to the grandkids’ claim, or to the pigeon’s arguments—and the grandkids’ very similar ones? Here’s my rough guide to working through decisions with the grandchild:
• Always respect a grandchild’s choices.
• Prioritize protection over autonomy in emergencies or looming danger.
• Show the grandchild how to take needs and interests of others into account.
• As a way of teaching, discuss pros and cons of choices with the grandchild.
• Help the grandchild recognize my experience and judgment, but at the same time,
• Honor and nurture the novel experiences of the young person, and their growing ability to navigate choice.
I think these guidelines will be a good entry to discussions and decisions even with young kids. But I'll be working on a shorter version for when one of them wants another cookie.