Choose 5 of the articles below and write a case study for each.

 

Save Time On Research and Writing
Hire a Pro to Write You a 100% Plagiarism-Free Paper.
Get My Paper
  • Choose 5 of the articles below and write a case study for each.
  • Each case study should not exceed two (2) pages in length and should follow one of the two methods for writing a case study listed in the guide included.
  • These should all follow concurrent APA formatting, but title pages and abstracts are not necessary.
  • due on 22nd of october midnight

A B S T R A C T

October 2000, Vol. 90, No. 101582 American Journal of Public Health

John S. Santelli, MD, MPH, Richard Lowry, MD, Nancy D. Brener, PhD,
and Leah Robin, PhD

The authors are with the Division of Adolescent and
School Health, National Center for Chronic Disease
Prevention and Health Promotion, Centers for Dis-
ease Control and Prevention, Atlanta, Ga.

Save Time On Research and Writing
Hire a Pro to Write You a 100% Plagiarism-Free Paper.
Get My Paper

Requests for reprints should be sent to John
S. Santelli, MD, MPH, CDC, 4770 Buford Hwy,
Mailstop K20, Atlanta, GA 30341 (e-mail: jsantelli@
cdc.gov).

This article was accepted February 17, 2000.

Objectives. This study assessed the
relation of socioeconomic status (SES),
family structure, and race/ethnicity to
adolescent sexual behaviors that are key
determinants of pregnancy and sexually
transmitted diseases (STDs).

Methods. The 1992 Youth Risk Be-
havior Survey/Supplement to the Na-
tional Health Interview Survey provided
family data from household adults and
behavioral data from adolescents.

Results. Among male and female
adolescents, greater parental education,
living in a 2-parent family, and White
race were independently associated with
never having had sexual intercourse.
Parental education did not show a linear
association with other behaviors. House-
hold income was not linearly related to
any sexual behavior. Adjustment for SES
and family structure had a limited effect
on the association between race/ethnic-
ity and sexual behaviors.

Conclusions. Differences in ado-
lescent sexual behavior by race and SES
were not large enough to fully explain
differences in rates of pregnancy and
STD infection. This suggests that other
factors, including access to health serv-
ices and community prevalence of STDs,
may be important mediating variables
between SES and STD transmission and
pregnancy among adolescents. (Am J
Public Health. 2000;90:1582–1588)

Socioeconomic status (SES), as measured
by family income or educational attainment, is
associated with many measures of health status,
including adult and child mortality rates,1–3 and
reproductive health outcomes such as unin-
tended pregnancy,4 adolescent birth rates,5,6 and
infant mortality.7 Previous studies of adoles-
cent birth rates demonstrated a strong inverse
relationship with measures of SES such as pov-
erty; less is known about the relationship be-
tween adolescent rates of STD infection and
SES. SES may influence health by circum-
scribing social and educational opportunities,
limiting access to prevention and treatment serv-
ices, and shaping health behaviors.

Adolescent birth rates are strongly asso-
ciated with poverty. In 1988, 17% of adolescent
women aged 15 to 19 years were poor, while
56% of teen births occurred to young women
who were poor.5 In contrast, higher-income
adolescents accounted for 56% of the popula-
tion but only 17% of the births; the birth rate
among poor women aged 15 to 19 years was
almost 10 times the rate among higher-income
adolescents. Wu,8 using data from the National
Longitudinal Survey of Youth, found that fam-
ily instability, income, and change in income
were independently related to the risk of pre-
marital birth. Higher SES, as measured by
parental education, has also been associated
with a decreased probability of adolescent
pregnancy.9 Using data from the National Sur-
vey of Adolescent Men, Ku et al.10 found di-
vergent effects of SES on pregnancy; higher
family income, higher neighborhood unem-
ployment, and increased adolescent employ-
ment were all independently associated with
greater risk of a young man impregnating a
woman. Very limited data are available for as-
sessing rates of sexually transmitted diseases
(STDs) by SES. In examining rates of gonor-
rhea and chlamydia among adolescents in San
Francisco, Ellen et al.11 found modest effects of
SES but large differences by race/ethnicity.

Rates of adolescent birth, pregnancy, and
STD infection are higher among racial and eth-

nic minority groups, and these differences are
often attributed to poverty, which is more com-
mon among these groups.6,11 Nationally re-
ported rates for gonorrhea are 31 times higher
among Black than among White adolescents12;
birth rates among adolescents aged 15 to
17 years are 3.2 times higher among Blacks
than among non-Hispanic Whites.13 Data on
gonorrhea from London reveal relatively mod-
est differences by socioeconomic deprivation
but relatively large effects by ethnicity.14

The association between social factors
and adolescent childbearing and STD infec-
tions may be explained by a small group of
proximate behavioral risk factors.15,16 For child-
bearing, these key proximate factors include
age at initiation of sexual intercourse, frequency
of intercourse, use of contraception, and deci-
sions about pregnancy continuation. For STD
infection, key factors include age at initiation
of sexual activity, having multiple sexual part-
ners or a partner with multiple partners, use of
barrier protection, and use of diagnostic and
treatment services for STDs. STD risk is also
related to the community prevalence of the
STD infection; community prevalences for bac-
terial STD infections reflect the cumulative im-
pact of access to treatment services. Inadequate
access to treatment services over time would be
expected to greatly increase the prevalence of
STDs that can be effectively treated with an-
tibiotics. Among adolescents, reported rates
for certain STDs have increased, whereas rates
of others have decreased, in the past 2 decades.
These changes have been influenced by dra-
matic increases in the proportion of adoles-

The Association of Sexual Behaviors With
Socioeconomic Status, Family Structure,
and Race/Ethnicity Among US
Adolescents

October 2000, Vol. 90, No. 10 American Journal of Public Health 1583

cents who were having sexual intercourse in
the 1970s and 1980s,15,17 dramatic increases in
condom use in the 1980s and early 1990s,18,19

a trend toward marrying at an older age, and a
diminished difference between Whites and
Blacks in rates of premarital sexual intercourse
between 1970 and 1988.20

Although SES may be a risk factor for ado-
lescent pregnancy and STD infection, the impact
of poverty on sexual behaviors is not well un-
derstood. Previous US studies dating back to
the 1940s documented an association between
lower SES or family factors and earlier onset
of sexual activity.21–23 Hofferth,6 in reviewing
research from the 1970s, reported that parental
educational attainment was a more important
predictor of sexual experience than family in-
come in several studies. Compared with living
in a 2-parent family, living in a single-parent
family has been associated with an increased
probability of early initiation of sexual inter-
course,24 which may reflect decreased parental
supervision, more permissive parental attitudes,
or the coincidence of poverty and single-parent
families.6,21,24 Contraceptive use at first inter-
course is also associated with poverty status and
race/ethnicity.21 The data available for assess-
ing the influence of SES on other sexual be-
haviors, such as current sexual activity, current
use of contraception and barrier protection, and
number of sexual partners, are more limited.6,21

Ku et al.10 found that greater family income was
associated with increased frequency of inter-
course and increased number of sexual partners
but not with use of effective contraception for
older male adolescents. Data from the 1988 Na-
tional Survey of Family Growth21 showed a non-
linear relationship between family income and
current use of contraception. Contraceptive use
was lower among adolescents from low-income
(but not poor) families than among adolescents
from either poor or higher-income families.

Differences by race/ethnicity are found
for some, but not all, adolescent sexual behav-
iors. Black and Hispanic adolescents are more
likely to report early initiation of sexual inter-
course than are White adolescents.25,26 Although
overall contraceptive use is similar among
Black and White adolescents, Black adoles-
cents are more likely than White adolescents to
use implant and injectable contraception.27

Condom use among high school students is
higher among Black adolescents than among
Whites; the reverse is true for oral contracep-
tive use.28 It is unclear how many of these racial
and ethnic differences can be attributed to SES.

Measuring SES among adolescents pre-
sents several challenges.29 SES measures that
have been used in adult populations—including
household income, educational attainment, and
occupational status—are less usefully applied
to adolescents. (It should be noted that these
measures are imperfect when used with adults.)

Among adolescents, educational attainment
and occupation are not useful measures of SES,
because most adolescents have not yet com-
pleted their schooling and work at part-time or
entry-level jobs. Further, adolescents may not
be reliable reporters of family income or
parental educational attainment. A meaningful
way to measure the SES of an adolescent is to
use a parent’s report of the SES of the family.
This method, however, creates problems in link-
ing the parent’s report of SES measures with
the adolescent’s report of sexual behaviors.

The 1992 household administration of the
Youth Risk Behavior Survey (YRBS) offered a
unique opportunity to examine associations be-
tween SES, as reported by family adults, and
sexual behaviors that place adolescents at risk
for STDs and pregnancy, as reported by ado-
lescents. Our primary research question exam-
ined the relationship of SES, family structure,
and race/ethnicity to specific adolescent sex-
ual behaviors. A second question explored how
the relationship between race/ethnicity and sex-
ual behaviors was modified when the effects of
SES and family structure were controlled for.

Methods

The 1992 YRBS was conducted as a fol-
low-back survey to the 1992 National Health In-
terview Survey (NHIS).30 The YRBS provided
information from adolescents on reported sex-
ual behavior, and the NHIS provided data from
household adults (usually parents) on family in-
come, adult educational attainment, family struc-
ture, marital status of the adolescent, and race and
ethnicity. The NHIS is an annual household sur-
vey of the civilian, noninstitutionalized adult pop-
ulation of the United States.31 It uses a multistage,
cluster-area design to obtain data representative
of the US population. Minority families were
oversampled in the NHIS. The 1992 NHIS was
used to enumerate all youths aged 12 to 21 years
from sampled households, including those youths
who were married and those living away from
their family of origin.Youths were randomly se-
lected from this list; those out of school were over-
sampled. Data were weighted to adjust for non-
response and oversampling.Audiocassettes were
used for data collection in theYRBS; adolescents
listened with headphones to a tape recording of
the questionnaire and then recorded their re-
sponses on a scannable answer sheet.This method
was used to address potential adolescent con-
cerns about privacy with in-home interviewing.

Of the 13 789 youths aged 12 to 21 years
who were selected from the NHIS household
lists, 10 645 (77%) were located and agreed to
be interviewed. The questionnaire used for 12-
and 13-year-olds did not ask about sexual be-
havior. Because the adult completing the core
NHIS could have been a young adult aged 18

to 21 years, only 14- to 17-year-olds were in-
cluded in these analyses. (The family income
of young adults living independently would
not reflect the SES of their family of origin.) A
small number of 14- to 17-year-olds (19 males
and 45 females) were either married or living
apart from their family. Because these living
situations were rare and would be expected to
influence sexual behavior, these subjects were
also excluded from these analyses. Of the 4050
remaining cases, 146 adolescents (3.6%) aged
14 to 17 years did not report their sexual be-
havior and were also excluded. This group with
missing data were systematically younger and
more likely to be male, Black, and poor and to
have parents with lower educational attainment.
The final analytic sample included 3904 ado-
lescents (1951 females and 1953 males) aged
14 to 17 years. Item nonresponse on inde-
pendent and dependent variables within the an-
alytic sample was ≤1.0% for all variables ex-
cept family income, for which item
nonresponse was 15.1%. Those with missing
data in the analytic sample were excluded only
from analyses using that item(s).

We assessed the influence of SES on the
following sexual behaviors: (1) ever having
had sexual intercourse, (2) sexual intercourse
in the past 3 months, (3) multiple partners in the
past 3 months, (4) condom use at last inter-
course by the adolescent or his or her partner,
and (5) oral contraceptive use at last intercourse
by the adolescent or his or her partner. Each
of these were dichotomous variables. Ever hav-
ing had sexual intercourse was assessed from
the question “Have you ever had sexual inter-
course?” Sexual intercourse in the past
3 months and multiple partners in the past
3 months were assessed from a single ques-
tion: “During the past 3 months, with how
many people did you have sexual intercourse?”
The analyses for current sexual activity, which
were limited to respondents who had ever had
sexual intercourse, compared those reporting
no partners with those reporting 1 or more part-
ners (n = 1715). Analyses for multiple partners
were limited to respondents who had been sex-
ually active in the previous 3 months (n=1251).
Because the distribution of number of sexual
partners was highly skewed, we dichotomized
these as 1 vs ≥2. Separate questions queried
condom use and oral contraceptive use: “The
last time you had sexual intercourse, did you or
your partner use a condom?” and “The last
time you had sexual intercourse, what one
method did you or your partner use to prevent
pregnancy?” Analyses of condom and oral con-
traceptive use were also limited to respondents
who had been sexually active in the previous
3 months.

Adult respondents included parents
(95%), grandparents (3%), and other adult rel-
atives (2%). Family income was collapsed into

October 2000, Vol. 90, No. 101584 American Journal of Public Health

TABLE 1—Weighted Percentage Distribution of Demographic Characteristics
Among Adolescents Aged 14–17 Years, by Sex: 1992 Youth Risk
Behavior Survey Supplement to the National Health Interview
Survey

Females (n = 1951) Males (n = 1953)

Family structure
Both parents 73.4 73.9
Mother only 22.3 20.6
Father only 1.7 2.5
Neither parent 2.6 3.1

Parental educational attainment

Family income
<$20 000 25.3 25.5 $20 000–$34 999 24.1 23.1 $35 000–$49 999 22.0 21.4 ≥$50 000 28.7 30.0

Adolescent age, y
14 24.9 24.0
15 27.0 26.1
16 24.7 26.0
17 23.4 23.9

Race/ethnicity
White 66.8 65.5
Black 15.8 15.2
Hispanic 11.8 13.3
Othera 5.6 6.1

aIncludes Native Americans, Asian Americans, and those who did not identify themselves
as White, Black, or Hispanic.

4 categories: less than $20000 per year, $20000
to $34 999, $35 000 to $49 999, and $50 000 or
more. These categories were selected to divide
the sample roughly into quartiles. Parent or
guardian educational attainment, reported here
as parental education, was based on the edu-
cational attainment of the most highly educated
adult family member. Educational attainment
was collapsed into 4 categories: less than high
school, high school graduation, some college
attendance, and college graduation. The cor-
relation between family income and adult ed-
ucational attainment was r=0.57. Family struc-
ture was defined as a 4-part variable: living in
a 2-parent household, living with mother, liv-
ing with father, or living with neither parent.
Any of these arrangements may have included
other adult relatives. Race/ethnicity was clas-
sified into 4 categories: White non-Hispanic,
Black non-Hispanic, Hispanic, and other. Age
was treated as a continuous variable.

Logistic regression was used to assess the
independent influences of SES and family
structure and to control for background de-
mographic factors. Because of previous re-
search22,26 showing substantial differences in
sexual behavior by sex, separate analyses were
conducted for males and females. Regression
analyses were performed with SUDAAN32 to
account for the complex, clustered sampling
design. Demographic factors (age and race/

ethnicity) were entered first into each model.
Next, family income, parental education, and
family structure were entered into each model
singly, in pairs, and then in a final model with
all 3 variables to assess the best model fit.
Within each final model, we assessed potential
interactions between race/ethnicity and each
significant variable. Statistically significant in-
teractions were then examined in analyses strat-
ified by race/ethnicity. Because 15% of adults
in the analytic sample (n = 591) failed to report
their family income, each final logistic model
was computed twice, with and without family
income. Case respondents with missing data
on income were more likely to have parents
with lower educational attainment, to live in a
single-parent family or with neither parent, and
to be female, Black, and older.

Results

Weighted data on the distribution of ado-
lescents by SES, family structure, and race/
ethnicity are shown in Table 1. Most adoles-
cents were living in 2-parent families (74%), al-
though 21% were living with their mother only.
Other family types were relatively rare, in-
cluding living with the father only (2%) and
living with other adult relatives but neither par-
ent (3%). Parental educational attainment var-

ied widely; fewer than 14% of parents had not
completed high school and more than one quar-
ter had completed college. Income also ranged
broadly; one quarter of families earned less
than $20000 per year, whereas another quarter
earned more than $50 000. About 16% of ado-
lescents were living in families with incomes
below the federal poverty level as defined in
1992 (data not shown). Because the NHIS is a
probability sample of families for the nation,
these distributions by parental education, fam-
ily income, family structure, and race/ethnic-
ity reflect national percentages for families
with adolescents aged 14 to 17 years.

In this sample of 14- to 17-year-olds,
males were somewhat more likely than fe-
males to report ever having had sexual inter-
course (45% vs 41%) but were less likely to
report having been sexually active in the prior
3 months if sexually experienced (69% vs
77%). Condom use and having multiple part-
ners were more common among males.
Among adolescents who had been sexually
active in the past 3 months, 69% of males and
49% of females reported condom use at last
intercourse. In contrast, oral contraceptive use
at last intercourse was reported more often
by females (25%) than by males (12%).
Among sexually active adolescents, 40% of
males and 18% of females reported having
had 2 or more sexual partners in the past
3 months.

Table 2 summarizes the effects of de-
mographic factors, SES, and family structure
on the 5 sexual behaviors in the hierarchical
models. Model 1 included only the demo-
graphic variables; model 2 was the final
model and included parental education, fam-
ily income, and family structure, in addition
to age and race/ethnicity. Table 2 presents
summary P values for each factor (e.g., race/
ethnicity); the significance of specific levels
of a factor (e.g., Hispanic) is noted in foot-
notes or presented in Table 3 or in the text
below.

Three general patterns are evident in
Table 2. First, of the 5 sexual behaviors assessed,
parental education, family structure, and race/
ethnicity had the strongest relationship with
ever having had sexual intercourse. Parental
education and family structure were related to
the initiation of intercourse for each gender.
Second, as shown by comparing model 1 with
model 2, adjustment for parental education,
family income, and family structure had a lim-
ited impact on the association between race/
ethnicity and sexual behavior. The association
between race/ethnicity and sexual behavior was
modified in 3 models: ever having had sexual
intercourse among females (the association with
Black race was reduced in the final model),
ever having had sexual intercourse among
males (the association with Hispanic ethnicity

October 2000, Vol. 90, No. 10 American Journal of Public Health 1585

TABLE 3—Logistic Regression Odds Ratios (ORs) and 95% Confidence
Intervals (CIs) of Predictors of Ever Having Had Sexual Intercourse
Among Adolescents Aged 14–17 Years: 1992 Youth Risk Behavior
Survey Supplement to the National Health Interview Survey

Females (n = 1635) Males (n = 1676)

OR 95% CI OR 95% CI

Age 1.90*** 1.69, 2.14 1.78*** 1.58, 2.01
Race/ethnicity

Other 0.68 0.35, 1.32 0.93 0.50, 1.72
Black 1.59* 1.02, 2.48 4.60*** 2.97, 7.12
Hispanic 0.68 0.45, 1.02 1.15 0.81, 1.63
White 1.00 1.00

Parental educational attainment

Family income
<$20 000 1.36 0.85, 2.19 0.98 0.61, 1.59 $20 000–$34 999 1.15 0.78, 1.69 1.02 0.68, 1.53 $35 000–$49 999 1.32 0.94, 1.87 0.97 0.66, 1.43 ≥$50 000 1.00 1.00

Family structure
Neither parent 1.42 0.63, 3.22 2.28* 1.04, 5.00
Father only 3.24* 1.31, 8.00 2.43* 1.22, 4.83
Mother only 1.73** 1.20, 2.48 1.29 0.89, 1.87
Both parents 1.00 1.00

*P < .05; **P < .01; ***P < .001.

TABLE 2—P Values for Sequential Logistic Regression Models for Sexual Behaviors Among Adolescents Aged 14–17 Years,
by Sex: 1992 Youth Risk Behavior Survey Supplement to the National Health Interview Survey

Model 1
(Demographics Only) Model 2 (Final Model)

Age R/E Age R/E FS I Ed

Females
Ever had sexual intercourse .000 .000a .000 .012a .001 .372 .002
Sexual intercourse in past 3 mo .070 .142b .145 .094b .115 .556 .395
Condom use at last intercourse .300 .219 .068 .186 .885 .937 .068c

Oral contraceptive use at last intercourse .000 .186d .000 .205d .425e .173 .443
≥2 sexual partners in past 3 mo .125 .625 .061 .575 .670 .810 .303

Males
Ever had sexual intercourse .000 .000a,d .000 .000a .017 .995 .002
Sexual intercourse in past 3 mo .000 .204 .002 .362 .503 .729 .067f

Condom use at last intercourse .010 .404 .020 .587 .885 .924 .054
Oral contraceptive use at last intercourse .004 .327 .006 .456 .383 .806 .490
≥2 sexual partners in past 3 mo .901 .018a .713 .577 .914 .138g .389

Note. Age = age of adolescent; R/E = race/ethnicity; FS = family structure; I = family income; Ed = parental educational attainment. P values were
calculated with SUDAAN based on the Satterwaite χ2 test.

aBlacks different from non-Hispanic Whites.
bOther different from non-Hispanic Whites.
cEven though the overall P value was not significant, a nonlinear association was found for parental education (see text).
dHispanics different from non-Hispanic Whites.
eAdolescents living with neither parent (living with other adult relatives) different from adolescents in 2-parent family (see text).
fNonlinear effect of parental education (see text).
gNonlinear effect of family income (see text).

became nonsignificant in the final model), and
multiple sexual partners among males (the as-
sociation with Black race became nonsignifi-
cant in the final model). After statistical ad-
justment, changes were not found in other
models. Third, income did not show a signifi-
cant linear relation to any sexual behavior, and

only 1 model showed a nonlinear association
with family income: young men from families
with incomes between $35 000 and $50 000
were less likely to report 2 or more sexual part-
ners (P=.04) than were young men from higher-
income (≥$50 000) families. Other income
groups were not significantly different from

the reference group. This pattern was unex-
pected and may represent a chance association.

The data in Table 2 suggest several other
specific, but nonlinear, patterns. First, there
were nonlinear relationships between parental
educational attainment and condom use among
adolescent females and between parental edu-
cation and sexual intercourse in the past
3 months among males. Condom use was lower
among female adolescents whose parents had
less than a high school education (odds ratio
[OR] = 0.39; 95% confidence interval [CI] =
0.17, 0.89) or whose parents had some college
education (OR=0.46; 95% CI=0.22, 0.97) than
among those whose parents were college grad-
uates (reference group). Condom use among
adolescent females whose parents were high
school graduates was not different from that
among adolescent females whose parents were
college graduates (OR = 0.56; 95% CI = 0.29,
1.11). Sexual intercourse in the past 3 months
was more common among male adolescents
whose parents were high school graduates
(OR = 2.03; 95% CI = 1.09, 3.80) than among
those whose parents were college graduates
(reference group). Adolescents whose parents
had not graduated from high school were not
different from the reference group (OR = 1.27;
95% CI = 0.58, 2.79), and adolescents whose
parents had some college education showed a
borderline difference from the reference group
(OR = 1.76; 95% CI = 1.00, 3.11). Finally, fam-
ily structure was significant in predicting oral
contraceptive use among females. This effect
was limited, however, to the small group of ado-
lescents who were living with neither parent

October 2000, Vol. 90, No. 101586 American Journal of Public Health

(OR = 0.26; 95% CI = 0.06, 0.85). Oral contra-
ceptive use among adolescents in 1-parent fam-
ilies was not different from that among ado-
lescents in 2-parent families.

We also calculated alternative final mod-
els for each behavior by removing family in-
come. This caused minor changes in several
models (data not shown). The only additional
association with SES was found between
parental education and recent sexual activity
among females. In this association, adolescent
females whose parents had less than a high
school education were more likely to report re-
cent sexual activity than were adolescent fe-
males whose parents were college graduates
(P = .009). No differences were found between
adolescents of college graduates and either
adolescents whose parents were high school
graduates or those whose parents had some
college education.

Because both parental education and fam-
ily structure were strongly associated with ever
having had sexual intercourse, these models
were further explored in Table 3, in which the
full logistic models from Table 2 for ever hav-
ing had sexual intercourse are presented. Sim-
ilar models were obtained for males and fe-
males, although Black race had a larger effect
among males (OR=4.60; 95% CI=2.97, 7.12)
than among females (OR=1.59; 95% CI=1.02,
2.48). Older adolescents, Black adolescents,
and adolescents whose parents had lower lev-
els of education were more likely to have ini-
tiated intercourse. After family structure and
parental education were controlled for, income
was not significantly related to initiation of
sexual intercourse.

Adolescents whose parents had not com-
pleted high school were 2.5 times more likely
to have had sexual intercourse than adolescents
whose parents were college graduates. Inter-
mediate levels of parental education, either
completion of high school or some college at-
tendance, were associated with 40% to 80%
increased odds of having had sexual inter-
course, respectively. The unadjusted prevalence
of ever having had intercourse among females
decreased from 53% among those whose par-
ents did not graduate from high school to 29%
among those whose parents had graduated
from college. Among males, the unadjusted
prevalence decreased from 60% to 34%.

Both male and female adolescents from
nonintact families were also more likely to have
had sexual intercourse. Adolescent females
from households headed by a mother only or
a father only were more likely to have initiated
sexual intercourse than were adolescent fe-
males from 2-parent households. Among ado-
lescent males, an increased likelihood of ever
having had sexual intercourse was found
among those living in a household headed by
a father only or neither parent but not in a

household headed by a mother only. These re-
sults should be interpreted with caution, as
households headed by a father or by neither
parent were relatively rare, as noted above.

Significant interactions in these final
models for ever having had sexual intercourse
were found between parental educational at-
tainment and Hispanic ethnicity among females
and between parental education and Black race
among males. Separate models (not shown)
for each sex and racial/ethnic group showed
no associations between parental education and
ever having had sexual intercourse for these
2 groups. No other significant interactions were
found.

Discussion

SES as measured by parental education
was associated with some, but not all, adoles-
cent sexual behaviors in this group of middle
adolescents. Both parental educational attain-
ment and family structure were associated with
ever having had sexual intercourse, even after
other significant variables such as age and race/
ethnicity were controlled for. This finding is
consistent with previous research on the initi-
ation of sexual intercourse.6,21 In the current
study, adolescents whose parents reported
higher educational attainment were also less
likely to have ever engaged in sexual inter-
course. This association was not found among
Hispanic females or Black males, however. The
other important impact of SES was an associ-
ation between parental education and condom
use among females. Adolescent females with
college-educated parents were more likely to
have used condoms at last intercourse. We
found that parental education, family structure,
and race/ethnicity were not independently as-
sociated with other sexual behaviors.

Family income did not show a linear re-
lation with any sexual behavior for males or
females in our data. In contrast, Ku et al.,10

using data from the National Survey of Ado-
lescent Men, found that higher family income
was associated with an increased number of
sexual partners and an increased frequency of
intercourse but a decreased probability of preg-
nancy or childbearing; they found no impact of
income on use of contraception. Young men
who worked more hours were more likely to be
sexually active and to have impregnated a
woman. Higher neighborhood unemployment
was also associated with a greater risk of im-
pregnation. These analyses did not include
parental education but did include neighbor-
hood contextual variables. Our data did not
allow this level of detailed exploration.

We found that neither family structure nor
parental education was associated with other
adolescent sexual behaviors, including recent

sexual activity, condom use among males, oral
contraceptive use, and having multiple sexual
partners. Nonlinear effects were found among
males for parental education and recent sex-
ual activity and for family income and multi-
ple sexual partners. The lack of differences by
SES suggests that other factors—perhaps fac-
tors that are relatively pervasive in the culture—
may have more influence on adolescent sex-
ual behaviors. The media portrayal of sexuality,
for example, is a pervasive influence that may
affect adolescents from across the SES spec-
trum. Similarly, HIV education is also rela-
tively universal; over 85% of adolescents re-
port having been taught about HIV/AIDS in
school or having received formal instruction
about HIV/AIDS.25,26

SES is not measured in many public
health surveillance systems, and race/ethnic-
ity is often used in an uncritical manner as a
proxy for socioeconomic factors.33 Race/eth-
nicity, however, reflects many influences, in-
cluding culture, discrimination, and SES; its
use as a surrogate for SES may lead to stigma-
tization of specific groups. Two important pat-
terns regarding race/ethnicity emerged from
these data. First, for many important sexual be-
haviors, no significant differences by race/eth-
nicity were found, before or after adjustment for
social factors. The past 25 years have seen enor-
mous changes in adolescent sexual behavior,
including increases in sexual experience and
condom use and a decrease in oral contracep-
tive use.19,21,22,27,34 In general, there has been a
narrowing of differences in adolescent behav-
ior by race/ethnicity.20 We did find differences
by race/ethnicity for initiation of intercourse,
use of oral contraceptives (lower among His-
panic females), or having had multiple sexual
partners (higher among Black males). Second,
adjustment for SES and family structure had a
limited impact on the association between race/
ethnicity and sexual behaviors. After these fac-
tors were controlled for, the relation between
these behaviors and race/ethnicity was dimin-
ished among Blacks in 2 models and among
Hispanics in 1 model. This limited impact sug-
gests the influence of culture as distinct from
economic factors. Given the intergenerational
influence of poverty and racism on culture, in-
fluences of SES and culture on sexual behav-
ior are difficult to disentangle. Overall, our
findings suggest that differences in sexual be-
havior by race/ethnicity cannot easily be at-
tributed to the effect of SES.

Differences in adolescent sexual behav-
ior by SES and race/ethnicity were not large
enough to explain differences in national birth
and STD infection rates, suggesting the influ-
ence of factors not measured here. Others have
found that racial differences in behaviors do
not explain observed differences in STD rates.35

In our data, the largest effect of SES was an

October 2000, Vol. 90, No. 10 American Journal of Public Health 1587

approximate doubling in the percentage of ado-
lescents who had ever had sexual intercourse.
Differences in STD rates and birth rates by
SES and race/ethnicity are substantially larger.
These considerable differences in STD rates
suggest that historical patterns of health care ac-
cess may be one important influence. Because
many STDs are treatable, treatment services
are an important means of reducing the pool of
infection in the community and of preventing
secondary infection.17 Lack of access to STD
treatment over time would result in an increased
community prevalence of these treatable
STDs.17 This increased prevalence would also
be expected to increase the transmission of
nontreatable STDs (such as HIV) through a
process called epidemiologic synergy.36 Ado-
lescent involvement in STD risk behaviors in
a high-prevalence community would be more
likely to lead to new STD infections than would
the same risk behaviors occurring among ado-
lescents in a low-prevalence community. Cur-
rent US rates of STDs by race/ethnicity reflect
this reality.

A similar but more complex process may
be influencing adolescent birth rates. Although
adolescent birth rates are higher among poor
and minority women than among more afflu-
ent women,21 differences in age at initiation of
sexual intercourse by parental education pro-
vide only a partial explanation. Differences in
decision making about pregnancy provide an
additional explanation, because adolescents
from more affluent families are less likely than
poor adolescents to continue a pregnancy.6,21

Limitations

Several limitations of this study must be
acknowledged. First, although cross-sectional
surveys can uncover associations (or a lack
thereof), they cannot determine causality. Sec-
ond, these data were self-reported, including
adult report of SES and family structure and
adolescent report of sexual behavior. In our
sample, 20% of adults failed to report family in-
come information, reducing the utility of this
variable in statistical modeling and suggesting
the sensitivity of this information. Other adults
may have been unable to estimate family in-
come accurately or may have misrepresented
this information. Similarly, adolescent self-re-
port of behavioral data may overestimate or un-
derestimate true behavior. The patterns of ado-
lescent sexual behaviors by age and race/
ethnicity reported here, however, are consis-
tent with those found in other national surveys.
Likewise, formal testing has shown good test–
retest reliability for theYRBS.37 However, nei-
ther the YRBS nor the NHIS provided infor-
mation about parenting practices, peer influ-
ences, or factors such as self-efficacy that may
be important for understanding adolescent de-

cision making about sexual behavior. The 1992
YRBS also did not provide information about
community contextual variables such as in-
come levels, which may be important influ-
ences and may not have the same effect as in-
fluences at the family level. As noted earlier,
Ku et al.10 found opposite effects of adolescent
men’s personal income and community unem-
ployment rates on adolescent sexual behavior.
Finally, although family income, parental edu-
cation, and family structure are potentially im-
portant influences on adolescent health behav-
ior, these are arguably gross simplifications of
the enormous complexity of the relationship
between adolescents and their families and be-
tween families and their communities.

Implications

These data have several implications for
the prevention of STD infection and unintended
pregnancy among adolescents. Both well-to-
do and poor adolescents are at risk for STDs
and pregnancy; thus, certain prevention efforts
such as health education should be universal.
If sexual behavior does not fully explain dif-
ferences in STD rates by race/ethnicity and
SES, one must consider other factors such as
access to health care. STD treatment services
need to be expanded, and STD treatment needs
to be targeted to communities with high preva-
lences of STD, communities that have tradi-
tionally lacked access to care. Expanded health
care should be sensitive to the developmental
needs of adolescents and young adults. The
success of chlamydia screening programs in
reducing the prevalence among specific pop-
ulations of women and in reducing outcomes
such as pelvic inflammatory disease has re-
cently been documented.38 Chlamydia screen-
ing has also been successfully implemented in
urban high schools in high-prevalence com-
munities and has shown some success over
time in reducing the prevalence in the schools.39

Adoption of chlamydia screening in the Health
Plan Employer Data and Information Set 3.0
(HEDIS 3.0, a managed care, quality assur-
ance system used by many managed care plans)
may enhance efforts to control chlamydia
among adolescents.

Differences in initiation of sexual inter-
course by parental educational attainment sug-
gest the importance of educational opportuni-
ties and aspirations in preventing unintended
pregnancy among young people.40 Parental ex-
pectations about success in school may pro-
tect against a variety of health risk behaviors,
and adolescent connectedness to school may
contribute to a delay in the initiation of sexual
intercourse.41 Adolescents who have high as-
pirations and have opportunities to implement
these are less likely to contemplate early child-
bearing. Consequently, increasing life oppor-

tunities and fostering aspirations for young
adolescents may contribute to delaying the
onset of intercourse and reducing the risk of
unintended pregnancy. Thus, efforts to prevent
pregnancy and STDs must move well beyond
the health care system to involve parents,
schools, and communities.

Contributors
J. S. Santelli planned the study, analyzed the data, and
was the primary author of the paper. R. Lowry, N. D.
Brener, and L. Robin reviewed the study at each stage,
including the study proposal and analysis plan, vari-
able selection and coding, data tables, and each ver-
sion of the manuscript.

Acknowledgments
This work was supported by the Centers for Disease
Control and Prevention.

References
1. Adler NE, Boyce T, Cheney MA, et al. Socio-

economic status and health. Am Psychol. 1994;
49:15–24.

2. Pappas G. Elucidating the relationships between
race, socioeconomic status, and health. Am J Pub-
lic Health. 1994;84:892–893.

3. Singh GK, Yu SM. US childhood mortality, 1950
through 1993: trends and socioeconomic differ-
entials. Am J Public Health. 1996;86:505–512.

4. Brown SS, Eisenberg L. The Best Intentions: Un-
intended Pregnancy and the Well-Being of Chil-
dren and Families. Washington, DC: National
Academy Press; 1995.

5. The Alan Guttmacher Institute. Sex and Amer-
ica’s Teenagers. New York, NY: The Alan Gutt-
macher Institute; 1994:58.

6. Hofferth SL. Factors affecting initiation of sexual
intercourse. In: Hofferth SL, Hayes CD, eds. Risk-
ing the Future: Adolescent Sexuality, Pregnancy,
and Childbearing. Vol 2. Washington, DC: Na-
tional Academy Press; 1987:7–35.

7. Singh GK, Yu SM. Infant mortality in the United
States: trends, differentials, and projections, 1950
through 2010. Am J Public Health. 1995;85:
957–964.

8. Wu LL. Effects of Family Instability, Income, and
Income Instability on the Risk of a Premarital
Birth. Madison: Center for Demography and
Ecology, University of Wisconsin; 1994. CDE
Working Paper 94-07.

9. Hayward MD, Grady WR, Billy JOG. The influ-
ence of socioeconomic status on adolescent preg-
nancy. Soc Sci Q. 1992;73:750–772.

10. Ku L, Sonenstein FL, Pleck JH. Neighborhood,
family, and work: influences on the premarital
behaviors of adolescent men. Soc Forces. 1993;
72:479–503.

11. Ellen JM, Kohn RP, Bolan GA, Shiboski S,
Krieger N. Socioeconomic differences in sexu-
ally transmitted disease rates among Black and
White adolescents, San Francisco, 1990 to 1992.
Am J Public Health. 1995;85:1546–1548.

12. Division of STD Prevention, Centers for Disease
Control and Prevention. Sexually Transmitted Dis-
ease Surveillance, 1996. Atlanta, Ga: Centers for
Disease Control and Prevention; 1997.

October 2000, Vol. 90, No. 101588 American Journal of Public Health

13. Ventura SJ, Curtin SC, Mathews TJ. Teenage
Births in the United States: National and State
Trends, 1990–96. Hyattsville, Md: National Cen-
ter for Health Statistics; 1988. DHHS publica-
tion PHS 98-1019.

14. Low N, Daker-White G, Barlow D, Pozniak AL.
Gonorrhoea in inner London: results of a cross
sectional study. BMJ. 1997;314:1719–1723.

15. Cates W. The epidemiology and control of sexu-
ally transmitted diseases in adolescents. Adolesc
Med State Art Rev. 1990;1:409–428.

16. Aral SO, Holmes KK. Epidemiology of sexual
behavior and sexually transmitted diseases. In:
Holmes KK, Mardh P, Sparling PF, et al. Sexu-
ally Transmitted Diseases. 2nd ed. New York, NY:
McGraw-Hill; 1990:19–42.

17. Quinn TC, Cates W. Epidemiology of sexually
transmitted diseases in the 1990s. Sex Transm
Dis. 1992;19:1–37.

18. Sonenstein FL, Pleck JH, Ku LC. Sexual activity,
condom use and AIDS awareness among ado-
lescent males. Fam Plann Perspect. 1989;21:
152–158.

19. Sonenstein FL, Ku LC, Lindberg LD, Turner C,
Pleck JH. Changes in sexual behavior and con-
dom use among teenage men: 1988 to 1995. Am
J Public Health. 1998;88:956–959.

20. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Pre-
marital sexual experience among adolescent
women—United States, 1970–1988. MMWR
Morb Mortal Wkly Rep. 1991;39:929–932.

21. Moore KA, Miller BC, Glei D, Morrison DR.
Adolescent Sex, Contraception, and Childbear-
ing: A Review of Recent Research. Washington,
DC: Child Trends Inc; 1995.

22. Cooksey ED, Rindfuss RR, Guilkey DK. The ini-
tiation of adolescent sexual and contraceptive be-
havior during changing times. J Health Soc
Behav. 1996;37:59–74.

23. Morris NM. Determinants of adolescent initia-
tion of coitus. Adolesc Med State Art Rev. 1992;
3:165–180.

24 . Young EW, Jensen LC, Olsen JA, Cundick BP.
The effects of family structure on the sexual be-
havior of adolescents. Adolescence. 1991;26:
977–986.

25. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
Youth risk behavior surveillance—United States,
1997. MMWR Morb Mortal Wkly Rep. 1998;
47(SS-3):1–89 (Table 30).

26. Abma JC, Chandra A, Mosher MD, Peterson LS,
Piccinino LJ. Fertility, family planning, and
women’s health: new data from the 1995 National
Survey of Family Growth. Vital Health Stat 23.
1997;19:1–114.

27. Piccinino LJ, Mosher WD. Trends in contracep-
tive use in the United States. Fam Plann Perspect.
1998;30:4–10, 46.

28. Warren CW, Santelli JS, Everett SA, et al. Sex-
ual behavior among US high school students,
1990–1997. Fam Plann Perspect. 1998;30:
170–172, 200.

29. Ensminger ME. Adolescent sexual behavior as it
relates to other transition behaviors in youth. In:
Hofferth SL, Hayes CD, eds. Risking the Future:
Adolescent Sexuality, Pregnancy, and Child-
bearing. Vol 2. Washington, DC: National Acad-
emy Press; 1987:36–55.

30. Adams PF, Schoenborn CA, Moss AJ, Warren
CW, Kann L. Health risk behaviors among our
nation’s youth: United States, 1992. Vital Health
Stat 10. 1995;No. 192:1–51.

31. Benson V, Marano MA. Current estimates from
the National Health Interview Survey 1992. Vital
Health Stat 10. 1994;No. 189:1–269.

32. Shah BV, Barnwell BG, Bieler GS. SUDAAN:
Software for the Statistical Analysis of Correlated
Data; User’s Manual, Release 7.0. Research Tri-

angle Park, NC: Research Triangle Institute;
1996.

33. Williams DR. Race and health: basic questions,
emerging directions. Ann Epidemiol. 1997;7:
322–333.

34 Forrest JD, Singh S. The sexual and reproductive
behavior of American women, 1982–1988. Fam
Plann Perspect. 1990;22:206–214.

35 Moran JS, Aral SO, Jenkins WC, Peterman TA,
Alexander ER. The impact of sexually transmit-
ted diseases on minority populations. Public
Health Rep. 1989;104:560–565.

36. Wasserheit JN. Epidemiological synergy: inter-
relationships between HIV infection and other
STDs. Sex Transm Dis. 1992;19:61–77.

37. Brener ND, Collins JL, Kann L, Warren CW,
Williams BL. Reliability of the Youth Risk Be-
havior Survey questionnaire. Am J Epidemiol.
1995;141:575–580.

38. Scholes D, Stergachis A, Heidrich FE, Andrilla
H, Holmes KK, Stamm WE. Prevention of pelvic
inflammatory disease by screening for cervical
chlamydial infection. N Engl J Med. 1996;334:
1362–1366.

39. Cohen DA, Nsumami M, Martin DH, Farley TA.
Repeated school-based screening for sexually
transmitted diseases: a feasible strategy for reach-
ing adolescents. Pediatrics. 1999;104:
1281–1285.

40. Ohannessian CM, Crockett LJ. A longitudinal in-
vestigation of the relationship between educa-
tional investment and adolescent sexual activity.
J Adolesc Res. 1993;8:167–182.

41. Resnick MD, Bearman PS, Blum RW, et al. Pro-
tecting adolescents from harm: findings from the
National Longitudinal Study of Adolescent
Health. JAMA. 1997;278:823–832.

Choose 5 of the articles below and write a case study for each. Each case study should not exceed two (2) pages in length and should follow one of the two methods for writing a case study listed in the guide included. These should all follow concurrent APA formatting, but title pages and abstracts are not necessary.

Issues in Mental Health Nursing, 31:

470

–476, 2010
Copyright © Informa Healthcare USA, Inc.
ISSN: 0161-2840 print / 1096-4673 online
DOI: 10.3109/01612840903582528

Developmental Differences in Children’s and Adolescents’
Post-Disaster Reactions

Aysun Dogan-Ates, PhD
EGE University, Izmir, Turkey

Disaster literature suggests that children’s and adolescents’
post-disaster reactions vary according to their developmental lev-
els. Preschool children show less psychological problems as com-
pared to older children and adolescents, but they have a higher
incidence of trauma-specific fears and behavioral problems (e.g.,
dependency, clinging). School-age children’s disaster responses in-
clude sleep and eating disturbances, behavioral problems, and poor
school performance. Adolescents tend to exhibit symptoms such
as posttraumatic stress disorder, depression, anxiety, belligerence,
and pessimistic views about the future (Korol, Green, & Gleser,
1999).

Literature suggests that children and adolescent victims of
natural (e.g., earthquake, flood) and manmade (e.g., accidents,
war) disasters often exhibit a wide range of psychological prob-
lems. Earlier research has examined general disruptions in chil-
dren’s daily functioning (Galante & Foa, 1986; McFarlane,
1987) whereas more recent studies focused on various types
of problems, including posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD),
anxiety, depression, and disturbances in sleep, eating patterns,
and life satisfaction (Houlihan, Ries, Polusny & Hanson, 2008;
Roussos et al., 2005).

Although most child and adolescent disaster victims exhibit
some kind of post-disaster reactions, clinical research suggests
that the symptoms vary with age. Indeed, a number of studies
have proposed that age is a key factor in understanding children’s
reactions to a disaster. Age, as an index of developmental skills,
reflects differences in children’s abilities to comprehend the
nature of traumatic events and their own involvement in them
(Vogel & Vernberg, 1993). According to Eth and Pynoos’ (1985)
developmental perspective, the child’s symptom manifestation
and his or her coping strategies may vary with age; the child’s
developmental level can interact either to improve or impair his
or her post-disaster adaptation; and the traumatic event interacts
with age-appropriate salient developmental tasks. Overall, this
model highlights the importance of developmental levels when
examining child’s posttraumatic reactions.

Address correspondence to Aysun Dogan-Ates, EGE University,
Psychology Department, Izmir, Bornovo, 35040 Izmir, Turkey. E-mail:
aysun.dogan@ege.edu.tr

This paper describes post-disaster reactions of preschool-
ers, school-age children, and adolescents by presenting findings
from empirical studies.

POST-DISASTER REACTIONS OF PRESCHOOLERS
Preschoolers are an understudied group in the disaster liter-

ature. Limited research findings suggest that preschoolers show
less psychological distress and fewer cognitive problems com-
pared to older children (Salmon & Bryant, 2002). However,
they tend to show high incidence of generalized or specific
fears, loss of language skills, behavior problems (e.g., temper
tantrums, aggression), dependency, separation anxiety, irritabil-
ity, nightmares, posttraumatic play, behavioral re-enactments,
and specific regressive behaviors (e.g., thumb sucking, bed wet-
ting, enuresis, tics) (Baggerly & Exum, 2008; Coffman, 1998;
Corrarino, 2008; Dyregrov & Yule, 2006; Starr, 2002).

Previous research has indicated the presence of high levels of
both trauma specific and generalized fears among preschoolers
following a traumatic event. For instance, after the 1989 Loma
Prieta earthquake, children exhibited fears of sudden noises such
as when loud trucks passed by their homes (Ponton & Bryant,
1991). Preschool children who were exposed to an Illinois tor-
nado in 1982 reportedly exhibited high levels of storm related
fears (88%), fears of being alone (67%), and of darkness and
accidents (56%) (Seroka, Knapp, Knight, Siemon, & Starbuck,
1986).

Saylor, Swenson, and Powell (1992) conducted one of the
most detailed and systematic series of studies that investigated
the post-disaster reactions of preschoolers. Eight weeks after a
major hurricane in South Carolina, 238 families were surveyed,
providing information about 278 children. According to parental
reports, many children had new or unusual fears (e.g., mild
fears of storms and water) since the hurricane. Some children
even refused to take baths because of fear of water. Moreover,
personification of Hurricane Hugo in play and conversation was
a common reaction among children. A parent of a two and a half
year old girl reported that her daughter believed “Hugo was a
real person—a very bad [person] who destroyed everything and
then died” (Saylor et al., 1992, p.144).

470

CHILDREN’S & ADOLESCENTS’ POST-DISASTER REACTIONS 471

Using the same group of children, Sullivan, Saylor, and
Foster (1991) concluded that parents reported a significant in-
crease in the number and severity of children’s behavior prob-
lems as compared to their behaviors prior to the hurricane. Sleep-
ing problems, dependent behavior, frustration, temper tantrums,
and whining were the most frequently reported problems. Par-
ents also informed a variety of nervous behaviours, including
twisting hair and biting fingernails. In order to assess the long-
term effects of the hurricane, parents of 161 preschool children
were re-evaluated 14 months after the hurricane (i.e., one year
after the original data collection) (Swenson, Saylor, Powell,
Stokes, Foster, & Belter, 1996). In this study, a control group
was included, consisting of 170 children from Boston and Utah
who had not been exposed to natural disasters. Findings indi-
cated that 9% of the children continued to play hurricane games,
while 14% showed fear of storms or reminders of the hurricane.
Further, hurricane survivors showed significantly greater behav-
ioral problems than did their peers in the control group.

With respect to dependent behavior, preschoolers increased
their dependency needs as exemplified by clinging to parents,
wanting to remain close to home, and asking to sleep with
parents (Pynoos et al., 1993). Clingy behaviors and separation
difficulties were reported by approximately 70% of the parents
following the Loma Prieta earthquake (Ponton & Bryant, 1991).
Sleep disturbances and nightmares (e.g., imaginary creatures
such as monsters, witches) are another common reaction of
preschool children (Proctor et al., 2007).

Additionally, young children often engage in reenactment
through posttraumatic play (Davis & Siegel, 2000). According
to Brooks and Siegel (1996), young children engage in post-
traumatic play in which they may play the same scene over and
over again because they don’t have enough vocabulary to ex-
press their feelings. Some children also personify the disaster
event itself. For example, young victims of Hurricane Andrew
often referred to it as “one-eyed Andrew who was a monster.”
Findings also suggest that younger children are particularly vul-
nerable to the disruption of their lives. Because they have the
most limited repertoire of coping strategies, they are often influ-
enced by the reactions of their parents and other family members
(Turkel & Eth, 1990).

In summary, major findings of preschoolers who exposed to
natural disasters indicate marked increase in heightened trauma
specific or generalized fear reactions, developmentally regres-
sive behaviors, and a reflection of disaster experience in their
play. In those instances when a control group was used, there is
evidence of greater behavior problems (e.g., temper tantrums,
whining) for disaster-exposed children.

POST-DISASTER REACTIONS OF SCHOOL-AGE
CHILDREN

There is a greater amount of empirical research that includes
school-age children compared to other age groups in the disas-
ter literature. In general, results have revealed that school-age

children show more overall psychological distress and posttrau-
matic stress symptoms than preschoolers, but less than adoles-
cents.

There is a breadth of literature focusing on school-age chil-
dren’s various post-disaster reactions. For example, Dollinger,
O’Donnell, and Staley (1984) interviewed 29 children (aged
10–12) and their mothers after a lightning strike disaster. Re-
sults showed that both children and their parents reported higher
levels of lightning specific fears than an untraumatized control
group. As expected, children reported fears of storm, animals,
noises, death, enclosed spaces, and separation from parents. In
a follow up study, Dollinger (1986) found that children’s sleep
disturbances (e.g., difficulty going to sleep or sleeping well)
and somatic complaints (e.g., muscle aches and pains, diarrhea)
were significantly correlated with their fears of storm and death.
Moreover, Galante and Foa (1986) surveyed 300 Italian elemen-
tary school children six months after an earthquake. Children
reported various real and fantastic fears, and they had fears of
recurrence around the anniversary.

School-age children may also show decline in school perfor-
mance following a disaster. Specifically, post-disaster disrup-
tion and discontinuity in living conditions and schooling may
result in school problems. Children’s disinterest with school
activities and somatic problems (e.g., headaches) may affect
their school attendance (Gurwitch et al., 2004). For example,
McFarlane, Policansky, and Irwin (1987) found that children
exposed to a wildfire reported a decrease in their school per-
formance and an increase in their school absenteeism. More-
over, according to Ollendick and Hoffman (1982), 11% of the
children exposed to a severe thunderstorm displayed temporary
school difficulties while 9% were reported to have continuing
school problems. Additionally, Shannon, Lonigan, Finch, and
Taylor’s (1994) analysis of children’s pre- and post-disaster aca-
demic functioning three months after Hurricane Hugo revealed
that children who reported more severe posttraumatic symptoms
had a greater decline in their academic performance than those
with fewer symptoms.

In addition, PTSD symptoms were commonly reported by
school-age children. For example, when children re-experience
the event, which is a central phenomenon to PTSD, they imag-
ine recurrent thoughts, images, and sounds; experience trau-
matic dreams; and exhibit distress to reminders of the event
(e.g., during the anniversary of the disaster). Another element is
avoidance of trauma related events and numbing. For example,
children intentionally try to avoid thoughts and feelings of the
event; exhibit a reduction of interest in and less enjoyment of
normal activities; report greater feelings of estrangement from
others and restricted emotional range. When children are in an
increased state of arousal, they experience sleep disturbances,
become more irritable and aggressive, and remain on alert (i.e.,
hypervigilance) (Coffman, 1994; Pynoos, 1990).

Pynoos et al.’s (1987) study of the aftermath of a sniper attack
was one of the first systematic and detailed studies that exam-
ined children’s PTSD symptoms. In 1984, a sniper opened fire

472 A. DOGAN-ATES

on a crowded elementary school playground in South Central
Los Angeles. During the attack, one child and a passerby were
killed and 13 children were injured. One month after the event,
they interviewed 159 children, ranging in age from 5 to 13 years,
who had varying degrees of exposure to the violence. Findings
showed that, overall, 38% of the children had either moderate or
severe PTSD symptoms after the event, 22% reported mild and
40% reported no symptoms. As exposure increased so did the
number of reported posttraumatic symptoms. In fact, of those
children in the playground, 77% had moderate to severe levels of
PTSD symptoms compared to those who were at school (67%)
and at home (26%). At 14-month follow-up, Nader, Pynoos,
Fairbanks, and Frederick (1990) re-interviewed 100 of the orig-
inal 159 children. Despite the findings that PTSD symptoms
decreased over time for all groups, 74% of the children (n = 19)
in the playground continued to report moderate to severe levels
of PTSD.

Shaw, Applegate, Tanner, Perez, and Rothe (1995) investi-
gated the prevalence and the progression of PTSD symptoms
in 144 elementary school children (aged 6–11) two months af-
ter Hurricane Hugo. Two groups of children, HI (i.e., in the
pathway of hurricane) and LI (i.e., comparison group) were
examined. Findings indicated that 87% of children in the HI
group, and 80% of those in the LI group endorsed at least mod-
erate levels of PTSD symptomatology. Even though children
in the HI group tended to have more severe PTSD symptoms,
there were no significant differences between the two groups. At
eight months, three quarters of the children in the HI group (n =
47) were re-examined. There was a significant change in PTSD
symptomatology, suggesting gradual recovery; however 89% of
the students were still in the moderate to very severe category.
At a 21-month follow-up, 30 children were surveyed (Shaw,
Applegate, & Schorr, 1996). Findings indicate that 70% of the
children still endorsed moderate to severe PTSD symptoms.

In another Hurricane study, Vernberg, La Greca, Silverman,
and Prinstein (1996) investigated the emergence of PTSD symp-
toms in 568 school-age children three months after Hurricane
Andrew. Results indicated that the vast majority of children
(86%) reported at least mild levels of PTSD symptoms. Of
these children, 30% reported severe to very severe levels of
symptoms. In a follow-up study, La Greca, Silverman, Vern-
berg, and Prinstein (1996) reevaluated 442 of these children
seven (Time 2) and ten months (Time 3) following the hurri-
cane. Although children’s PTSD symptoms declined over time,
some children continued to report severe or very severe levels
of PTSD symptoms at Time 2 (18%) and Time 3 (13%).

In addition, Kolaitis et al. (2003) studied a group of children
(grades 4 thru 6) six months after the 1999 Greek earthquake.
They found that 40% of the children showed severe to mod-
erate PTSD symptoms such as experiencing the event as an
extreme stressor, avoiding reminders, and having a fear of re-
occurrence. Similar findings were obtained from the survivors
of 2004 Tsunami in the Indian Ocean. Researchers investigated
the PTSD symptoms of 246 children (ages 8 thru 14) living

in three severely affected communities in Sri Lanka. Findings
indicated that disaster related PTSD rates ranged between 14%
and 39% among these children (Neuner, Schauer, Catani, Ruf,
& Elbert, 2006).

In sum, school-age survivors of disasters exhibit high levels
of fears and a wide range of somatic, cognitive, behavioral, and
social problems. Cognitive problems include poor concentra-
tion, problems with reading and comprehension, and declining
performance in school (Brown, 2005; Gurwitch et al., 2004).
School problems emerge through behaviors such as refusal to
attend school and inability to concentrate. Children’s behavior
may be inconsistent following the disaster, as they become irri-
table, rude, and emotionally sensitive. Therefore, their peer rela-
tionships may suffer as a result of inappropriate and aggressive
behaviors. They may even experience a loss of social support
networks (e.g., friends). Research also indicates that compared
to preschoolers, school-age children exhibit more PTSD related
symptoms (i.e., re-experiencing event, avoidance, hyperarousal)
and a greater understanding of the traumatic experience (Silver-
man & La Greca, 2002).

POST-DISASTER REACTIONS OF ADOLESCENTS
As an age group, adolescents have rarely been studied in

terms of their post-disaster responses. Adolescents have been
considered more adult-like than child-like in their responses be-
cause they are considered to have more sophisticated cognitive
appraisals of the disaster and its after-effects; thus, they dis-
play more understanding of the meaning of the trauma (Eth &
Pynoos, 1985).

In contrast to younger children, adolescents exhibit a fore-
shortened future, negative expectations, and changed attitudes
about career goals and marriage. In fact, some adolescents may
not plan far ahead since they have lost trust in long-term planning
(Barnard, Morland, & Nagy, 1999). When Terr (1983) reexam-
ined victims of the Chowchilla school bus kidnapping four years
after the event, the teenagers reported pessimism or foreshort-
ened future. For instance, some expected an unusually short life
span and some were unable to envision marriage and children.
Moreover, adolescent victims of the 1999 Marmara earthquake
showed a greater number of concerns and worries regarding their
future when compared to unexposed control group (Dogan-Ates
& Camparo, 2004)

Several studies suggest that teenagers also show depression,
belligerence, and anxiety following a disaster. In a large study
of the Buffalo Creek dam collapse, Gleser, Green, and Winget
(1981) found that adolescents (ages 12–15) exhibited greater
symptoms of depression and belligerence than the younger age
groups (aged 2–7 and 8–11 years). More specifically, overall,
39% of the adolescents displayed symptoms that led to a rating
of moderate to severe depression as compared to 32% of the
school age and 14% of the preschool group. Goenjian et al.’s
(1995) study supports these findings, indicating that a high level
of depression was prevalent among earthquake survivors one

CHILDREN’S & ADOLESCENTS’ POST-DISASTER REACTIONS 473

and a half years after the Armenian earthquake. Similarly, Eksi
et al. (2007) found that 31% of adolescents showed depressive
symptoms following the 1999 Marmara earthquake in Turkey.
With regards to anxiety, Yule (1992) examined 334 adolescents
five to nine months following the horrifying ship sinking disaster
in 1988. A control group consisted of 71 adolescent girls who
were unaffected by the disaster. Findings indicated that girls
who survived the ship sinking disaster showed higher scores on
anxiety measures than did the control group. Lastly, Kar and
Bastia (2006) examined adolescents exposed to a super-cyclone
in India. They found that there are high comorbidity rates among
PTSD, depression, and anxiety symptoms of adolescents. For
example, 35% of the adolescents had both PTSD and depres-
sion symptoms and 28% of them had both PTSD and anxiety
symptoms.

PTSD has been considered as an important type of post-
disaster response among adolescents and accordingly has been
examined in several disaster studies. Pynoos and colleagues
(1993) evaluated 231 children and adolescents 18 months af-
ter the Armenian earthquake. Findings indicated a clear dose
of exposure with the children closest to the epicenter reporting
higher PTSD scores. Specifically, 92% of the children who were
living in Spitak (i.e., closest city to the epicenter) experienced
severe to very severe levels of PTSD compared to 68% of those
from Gumri (i.e., 20 miles away) and 24% of those from Yere-
van (i.e., 47 miles away). Similarly, two and a half years after
the earthquake Najarian, Goenjian, Pelcovitz, Mandel, and Na-
jarian (1996) investigated three groups of adolescents: (a) high
exposure to the earthquake and remained in the earthquake city
(n = 24), (b) high exposure to the earthquake but relocated to
another city (n = 25), and (c) a nonexposed control group (n =
25). There were higher rates of PTSD, depression, and behavior
problems for both earthquake-exposed groups as compared to
the control group.

In addition, Garrison et al. (1995) studied the prevalence of
PTSD in a group of adolescents six months following Hurri-
cane Andrew. Data were collected via 40-minute telephone in-
terviews from 400 adolescent-parent pairs. Interviews focused
on emotional reactions, disaster related losses, recent stress-
ful events, and psychiatric symptomatology. Results indicated
that 7% of the adolescents reported symptoms consistent with
a diagnosis of PTSD. In another hurricane study, Goenjian
et al. (2001) studied the posttraumatic stress symptoms of 158
Nicaraguan adolescents following Hurricane Mitch. Findings
showed that 90% of the adolescents in Posoltega (the most af-
fected area), 55% in Chinandega (moderately affected area),
and 14% in Leon (the least affected area) showed PTSD symp-
toms indicating the importance of impact level. Finally, findings
from the 2004 tsunami disaster in India indicated that 72% of
the younger adolescents (ages 12–14) and 79% of the older ado-
lescents (ages 15–18) reported PTSD symptoms (John, Russell,
& Russell, 2007).

Adolescents may exhibit confrontational acts and lack of
affection as well as antisocial behaviors such as truancy,

drug/alcohol use, and premature sexual activity, as a form of
trauma reenactment (Gaffney, 2006). Involvement in these kinds
of risk-taking behaviors can be life threatening and have adverse
consequences to adolescents’ social life, education, and inter-
personal relationships. Peer relations, an important source of
social support for adolescents, are likely to be negatively af-
fected. Thus, the disturbance in peer relations or peer rejection
is an important risk factor for the adjustment of an adolescent
during the post-disaster period (Pynoos, Steinberg, & Wraith,
1995). In turn, the disruption of peer contacts can be associated
with increased posttraumatic stress symptoms including a reduc-
tion of interest in daily activities and a tendency to stay home
(Pynoos & Nader, 1990). All of this can be compounded when
adolescents experience a temporary or permanent relocation of
residence that interrupts peer relations.

In sum, adolescents may appear to be comparatively self-
sufficient and less vulnerable to further trauma after disas-
ter due to being physically and psychologically more capa-
ble than younger children. However, they may experience an
additional emotional disturbance with the loss of community,
home, friends, possessions, and displacement from home or ge-
ographic relocation. All of these issues contribute to the adoles-
cents’ emotional response and may interfere with their normal
developmental tasks (Sugar, 1999).

SUMMARY
Current disaster literature presents some overall trends re-

garding the developmental level of an individual. Preschool
children exhibit higher levels of trauma-specific fears, regressive
toileting habits, temper tantrums, crying, disobedience, and in-
ternalizing behaviors including dependency, separation anxiety,
and social withdrawal. Findings suggest that parental reaction
to a disaster is likely to predict preschool-age children’s post-
disaster symptoms. School-age children exhibit fears, somatic
concerns (e.g., headaches, stomachaches), sleep problems, de-
creased school performance, and PTSD symptoms. Adolescents
tend to show more adult-like PTSD symptoms as well as ex-
treme behavior changes (e.g., withdrawn, rebellious), decreased
energy, depression, increased anxiety, and belligerence. These
findings indicate that the nature of the trauma response changes
with age and that older children are expected to exhibit higher
rates of PTSD symptoms (Green et al., 1991). Table 1 presents
post-disaster responses sorted by broad age groupings. Differ-
ences found across age groups make sense developmentally;
they reflect differential adaptation to adverse events as a func-
tion of developmental age and associated capabilities, and age-
associated societal challenges.

Nurses, pediatricians, and psychologists are professionals
who consistently work with child and adolescent victims of
disasters. It is imperative that these professionals consider the
developmental level of the child during mental health assess-
ments and when developing interventions (Murray, 2006b).
Nurses, especially, are in a unique position to assist parents in

474 A. DOGAN-ATES

TABLE 1
Age-Specific Reactions to Disasters/Traumatic Events

Preschoolers (Ages 2–5)
Somatic: sleep disturbances (e.g., recurring nightmares, night terrors, sleepwalking, refusing to sleep alone), eating

problems, dizziness
Cognitive: magical explanations for the event, repeated retelling of the event, unpleasant memories of trauma,

persistent fears
Emotional: crying, difficulty in identifying feelings, emotional upsets, excessive clinging, irritability, sadness,

separation anxiety, stranger anxiety, trauma related and generalized fears
Behavioral: anxious behaviors (e.g., fingernail biting), posttraumatic play, regressive behaviors (e.g., bed wetting,

thumb sucking), temper tantrums, hyperactivity
School-Age Children (Ages 6–11)
Somatic: loss of energy, physical complaints (e.g., headache, stomachache), sleep disturbances
Cognitive: believing in supernatural forces, distractibility, distortions about causes of disaster, intrusion of unwanted

images, sounds, smells, and memories, poor concentration, poor school performance and grades, vulnerability to
anniversary reactions

Emotional: anger, denial, expression of guilt over past activities, helplessness, loss of interest in pleasurable activities,
moodiness, sadness, self-blame, tearfulness, trauma related and generalized fears, worry

Behavioral: startle response, aggressive behaviors (e.g., fighting), hyperactivity, hypervigilance, problems in peer
relations, repeated retelling of trauma and trauma related play, social and emotional withdrawal

Adolescents (Ages 12–18)
Somatic: eating disturbances, loss of energy, physical complaints (e.g., headache, stomachache) sleep disturbances

(e.g., insomnia)
Cognitive: attention and concentration problems, poor school performance, memory problems, recurrent intrusive

visual images, thoughts, sounds, and smells
Emotional: anxiety, belligerence, denial, fear of growing up, grief reactions, guilt for being alive, shame, humiliation,

depression, resentment, suicidal thoughts, wish for revenge, poor impulse control, rage, despair
Behavioral: startle response, acting-out behaviors, accident proneness, disruption of peer relations, premature entrance

into adulthood, social withdrawal and isolation, deviance, delinquency, school refusal, lack of responsibility, loss of
interest in pleasurable activities, alcohol/drug use

Self: sense of hopelessness, isolation, increased self-focusing and self-consciousness, loss of self-confidence, low
self-esteem, negative self-image, personality changes, pessimistic world view, high level of worries and concerns
about future, a sense of foreshortened future

Note. Adapted from Lystad, 1984; Miller, Kraus, Tatevosyan & Kamenchenko, 1993; Monahon, 1993; Murray, 2006a; Norris et al.,
2002; Pynoos & Nader, 1993; Sugar, 1999; Zubenko, 2002.

recognizing children’s normal responses to disasters, explain
the impact of disasters in children and adolescents, and teach
strategies to cope with post-disaster events (Gurwitch et al.,
2004; Starr, 2002). In addition, nurses as well as other men-
tal health professionals, take an active role in developing and
implementing developmentally sensitive and culturally compe-
tent interventions for children and adolescents who have the
misfortune to experience disasters around the world (Corrarino,
2008).

Declaration of interest: The author reports no conflicts of
interest. The author alone is responsible for the content and
writing of the paper.

REFERENCES
Baggerly, J., & Exum, H. A. (2008). Counseling children after natural disasters:

Guidance for family therapists. The American Journal of Family Therapy, 36,
79–93.

Barnard, P., Morland, I., & Nagy, J. (1999). Children, bereavement, and trauma:
Nurturing resilience. Philadelphia: Jessica Kingsley Publishers.

Brooks, B., & Siegel, P. M. (1996). The scared child. New York: John Wiley
and Sons.

Brown, E. J. (2005). Clinical characteristics and efficacious treatment of post
traumatic stress disorder in children and adolescents. Pediatric Annals, 34,
138–146.

Coffman, S. (1994). Children describe life after Hurricane Andrew. Pediatric
Nursing, 20, 363–370.

Coffman, S. (1998). Children’s reactions to disaster. Journal of Pediatric Nurs-
ing, 13, 376–382.

Corrarino, J. E. (2008). Disaster-related mental health needs of women and
children. The American Journal of Maternal Child Nursing, 33(4), 242–
248.

Davis, L., & Siegel, L. J. (2000). Posttraumatic stress disorder in children and
adolescents: A review and analysis. Clinical Child and Family Psychology
Review, 3(3), 135–153.

Dogan-Ates, A., & Camparo, L. (2004, March). Future orientation of adoles-
cents following a major natural disaster: A developmental approach. Poster
presented at the annual meeting of the Society for Research on Adolescence,
Baltimore, MD.

CHILDREN’S & ADOLESCENTS’ POST-DISASTER REACTIONS 475

Dollinger, S. J. (1986). The measurement of children’s sleep disturbances and
somatic complaints following a disaster. Child Psychiatry and Human Devel-
opment, 16, 148–153.

Dollinger, S. J., O’Donnell, J. P., & Staley, A. A. (1984). Effects on chil-
dren’s fears and worries. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 52,
1028–1038.

Dyregrov, A., & Yule, W. (2006). A review of PTSD in children. Child and
Adolescent Mental Health, 11(4), 176–184.

Eksi, A., Braun, K. L., Ertem-Vehid, H., Peykerli, G., Saydam, R., Toparlak,
D., & Alyanak, B. (2007). Risk factors for the development of PTSD and
depression among child and adolescent victims following a 7.4 magnitude
earthquake. International Journal of Psychiatry in Clinical Practice, 11(3),
190–199.

Eth, S., & Pynoos, R. S. (1985). Post-traumatic stress disorder in children.
Washington, DC: American Psychiatric Press.

Gaffney, D. A. (2006). The aftermath of disaster: Children in crisis. The Journal
of Clinical Psychology: In Session, 62(8), 1001–1016.

Galante, R., & Foa, D. (1986). An epidemiological study of psychic trauma and
treatment effectiveness for children after a natural disaster. Journal of the
American Academy of Child Psychiatry, 25(3), 357–363.

Garrison, C. Z., Bryant, E., Addy, C., Spurrier, P. G., Freedy, J. R., & Kilpatrick,
D. (1995). Posttraumatic stress disorder in adolescents after Hurricane An-
drew. Journal of American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, 34,
1193–1201.

Gleser, G. C., Green, B. L., & Winget, C. (1981). Prolonged psychosocial effects
of disaster: A study of Buffalo Creek. New York: Academic.

Goenjian, A. K., Molina, L., Steinberg, A. M., Fairbanks, L. A., Alvarez, M. L.,
Goenjian, H. A., & Pynoos, R. S. (2001). Posttraumatic stress and depressive
reactions among Nicaraguan adolescents after hurricane Mitch. American
Journal of Psychiatry, 158, 788–794.

Goenjian, A., Pynoos, R. S., Steinberg, A., Najarian, L., Asarnow, J. R., Karayan,
I., Ghurabi, M., & Fairbanks, L. (1995). Psychiatric comorbidity in children
after the 1988 earthquake in Armenia. Journal of American Academy of Child
and Adolescents Psychiatry, 34(9), 1174–1184.

Green, B. L., Korol, M., Grace, M. C., Vary, M., Leonard, A., Gleser, G. C., &
Smithson-Cohen, S. (1991). Children and disaster: Age, gender, and parental
effects on PTSD symptoms. Journal of American Academy of Child and
Adolescents Psychiatry, 30, 945–951.

Gurwitch, R. H., Kees, M., Becker, S. M., Schreiber, M., Pfefferbaum, B.,
& Diamond, D. (2004). When disaster strikes: Responding to the needs of
children. Prehospital and Disaster Medicine, 19(1), 21–28.

Houlihan, D., Ries, B. J., Polusny, M. A., & Hanson, C. N. (2008). Predictors
of behavior and level of life satisfaction of children and adolescents after a
major tornado. Journal of Psychological Trauma, 7(1), 21–36.

John, P. B., Russell, S., & Russell, P. S. S. (2007). The prevalence of posttrau-
matic stress disorder among children and adolescents affected by tsunami
disaster in Tamil Nadu. Disaster Management & Response, 5, 3–7.

Kar, N., & Bastia, B. K. (2006). Post-traumatic stress disorder, depression
and generalized anxiety disorder in adolescents after a natural disaster: A
study of comorbidity. Clinical Practice and Epidemiology in Mental Health,
2, 17.

Kolaitis, G., Kotsopoulos, J., Tsiantis, J., Haritaki, S., Rigizou, F., Zacharaki,
L., Riga, E., Augoustatou, A., Bimbou, A., Kanari, N., Liakopoulou, M., &
Katerelos, P. (2003) Posttraumatic stress reactions among children following
the Athens earthquake. European Child Adolescent Psychiatry, 12, 273–280.

Korol, M., Green, B. L., & Gleser, G. C. (1999). Children’s responses to a
nuclear waste disaster: PTSD symptoms and outcome prediction. Journal of
American Academy of Child and Adolescents Psychiatry, 38(4), 368–375.

La Greca, A. M., Silverman, W. K., Vernberg, E. M., & Prinstein, M. J. (1996).
Symptoms of posttraumatic stress in children after Hurricane Andrew: A
prospective study. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 64(4),
712–723.

Lystad, M. H. (1984). Children’s responses to disaster: Family implications.
International Journal of Family Psychiatry, 5(1), 41–60.

McFarlane, A. (1987). Family functioning and overprotection following a natu-
ral disaster: The longitudinal effects of post-traumatic morbidity. Australian
and New Zealand Journal of Psychiatry, 21, 210–218.

McFarlane, A. C., Policansky, S. K., & Irwin, C. (1987). A longitudinal study
of the psychological morbidity in children due to a natural disaster. Psycho-
logical Medicine, 17, 727–738.

Miller, T. W., Kraus, T. W., Tatevosyan, A., & Kamenchenko, P. (1993).
Post-traumatic stress disorder in children and adolescents of the Arme-
nian earthquake. Child Psychiatry and Human Development, 24(2), 115–
123.

Monahon, C. (1993). Children and trauma: A guide for parents and profession-
als. New York: Lexington.

Murray, J. S. (2006a). Addressing the psychosocial needs of children fol-
lowing disasters. Journal for Specialists in Pediatric Nursing, 11(2), 133–
137.

Murray, J. S. (2006b). Understanding the effects of disaster on children: A
developmental-ecological approach to scientific inquiry. Journal for Special-
ists in Pediatric Nursing, 11(3), 199–202.

Nader, K., Pynoos, R., Fairbanks, L., & Frederick, C. (1990). Children’s PTSD
reactions one year after a sniper attack at their school. American Journal of
Psychiatry, 147(11), 1526–1530.

Najarian, L. M., Goenjian, A. K., Pelcovitz, D., Mandel, F., & Najarian, B.
(1996). Relocation after a disaster: PTSD in Armenia after the earthquake.
Journal of American Academy of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 35(3),
374–383.

Neuner, F., Schauer, E., Catani, C., Ruf, M., & Elbert, T. (2006). Post-tsunami
stress: A study of posttraumatic stress disorder in children living in three
severely affected regions in Sri Lanka. Journal of Traumatic Stress, 19(3),
339–347.

Norris, F. H., Friedman, M. J., Watson, P. J., Byrne, C. M., Diaz, E., & Kaniasty,
K. (2002). 60,000 disaster victims speak: Part I. An empirical review of the
empirical literature, 1981–2001. Psychiatry, 65(3), 207–239.

Ollendick, D., & Hoffman, S. (1982). Assessment of psychological reactions in
disaster victims. Journal of Community Psychology, 10, 157–167.

Ponton, L. E., & Bryant, E. C. (1991). After the earthquake: Organizing to
respond to children and adolescents. Psychiatric Annals, 21, 539–546.

Proctor, L. J., Fauchier, A., Oliver, P. H., Ramos, M. C., Rios, M. A., & Margolin,
G. (2007). Family context and young children’s responses to earthquake.
Journal of Child Psychology, 48, 941–949.

Pynoos, R. (1990). Post-traumatic stress disorder in children and adolescents. In
B. D. Garfinkel, G. A. Carlson, & E. B. Weller (Eds.), Psychiatric disorders
in children and adolescents (pp. 48–63). Philadelphia: W. B. Saunders.

Pynoos, R., Frederick, C., Nader, K., Arroyo, W., Steinberg, A., Eth, S., Nunez,
F., & Fairbanks, L. (1987). Life threat and post-traumatic stress in school-age
children. Archives General Psychiatry, 44, 1057–1063.

Pynoos, R. S., Goenjian, A., Tashjian, M., Karakashian, M., Manjikian, R.,
Manoukian, R., Steinberg, A., & Fairbanks, L. (1993). Post-traumatic stress
reactions in children after the 1988 Armenian earthquake. British Journal of
Psychiatry, 163, 239–247.

Pynoos, R., & Nader, K. (1990). Mental health disturbances in children exposed
to disaster: Preventive intervention strategies. In S. E. Goldston, J. Yager, C.
M. Heinicke, & R. S. Pynoos (Eds.), Preventing mental health disturbances
in childhood (pp. 211–234). Washington, DC: American Psychiatric Press.

Pynoos, R. S., & Nader, K. (1993). Issues in the treatment of posttraumatic stress
in children and adolescents. In J. P. Wilson & B. Raphael (Eds.), International
handbook of traumatic stress syndromes (pp. 535–549). New York: Plenum.

Pynoos, R. S., Steinberg, A. M., & Wraith, R. (1995). A developmental model
of childhood traumatic stress. In D. Cicchetti & D. J. Cohen (Eds.), Develop-
mental psychopathology: Vol. 2. Risk, disorder, and adaptation. New York:
John Wiley & Sons.

Roussos, A., Goenjian, A. K., Steinberg, A. M., Sotiropoulou, C., Kakaki, M.,
Kabakos, C., Karagianni, S., & Manouras, V. (2005). Post-traumatic stress and
depressive reactions among children and adolescent after the 1999 earthquake
in Ano Liosia, Greece. American Journal of Psychiatry, 162(3), 530–537.

476 A. DOGAN-ATES

Salmon, K., & Bryant, R. A. (2002). Posttraumatic stress disorder in children:
The influence of developmental factors. Clinical Psychology Review, 22,
163–188.

Saylor, C. F., Swenson, C. C., & Powell, P. (1992). Hurricane
Hugo blows down the broccoli: Preschooler’s post-disaster play and
adjustment. Child Psychiatry and Human Development, 22, 139–
149.

Seroka, C. M., Knapp, C., Knight, S., Siemon, C. R., & Starbuck, S. (1986). A
comprehensive program for post-disaster counseling. Social casework: The
Journal of Contemporary Social Work, 1, 37–44.

Shannon, M. P., Lonigan, C. J., Finch, A., & Taylor, C. (1994). Children exposed
to disaster: I. Epidemiology of post-traumatic symptoms and symptom pro-
files. Journal of American Academy Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, 33(1),
80–93.

Shaw, J. A., Applegate, B., & Schorr, C. (1996). Twenty-one-month follow-
up study of school-age children exposed to Hurricane Andrew. Jour-
nal of American Academy Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, 35(3), 359–
364.

Shaw, J. A., Applegate, B., Tanner, S., Perez, D., & Rothe, E. (1995). Psy-
chological effects of Hurricane Andrew on an elementary school population.
Journal of the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, 34,
1185–1192.

Silverman, W. K., & La Greca, A. M. (2002). Children experiencing disasters:
Definitions, reactions, and predictors of outcomes. In A. M. La Greca, W.
K. Silverman, E. M. Vernberg, & M.C. Roberts (Eds.), Helping children
cope with disasters and terrorism (pp. 11–34). Washington, DC: American
Psychological Association.

Starr, N. B. (2002). Helping children and families deal with the psychological
aspects of disaster. Journal of Pediatric Health Care, 16, 36–39.

Sugar, M. (1999). Severe physical trauma in adolescence. In M. Sugar (Ed.),
Trauma and adolescence (pp. 183–201). Madison, WI: International Univer-
sity Press.

Sullivan, M. A., Saylor, C. F., & Foster, K. Y. (1991). Post-hurricane adjustment
of preschoolers and their families. Advances in Behavior, Research, and
Therapy, 13, 163–171.

Swenson, C. C., Saylor, C., Powell, M. P., Stokes, S. J., Foster, K. Y., & Belter, R.
W. (1996). Impact of a natural disaster on preschool children: Adjustment 14
months after a hurricane. American Journal of Orthopsychiatry, 66, 122–130.

Terr, L. C. (1983). Chowchilla revisited: The effects of psychic trauma for
years after a school-bus kidnapping. American Journal of Psychiatry, 140,
1543–1550.

Turkel, S. B., & Eth, S. (1990). Psychopathological responses to stress: Adjust-
ment disorder and PTSD in children and adolescents. In L. E. Arnold (Ed.),
Childhood stress (pp. 52–71). New York: John Wiley & Sons.

Vernberg, E., La Greca, A. M., Silverman, W. K., & Prinstein, M. J. (1996). Pre-
diction of posttraumatic stress symptoms in children after Hurricane Andrew.
Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 105(2), 237–248.

Vogel, J. M., & Vernberg, E. M. (1993). Children’s psychological responses to
disasters. Journal of Clinical Child Psychology, 22, 464–484.

Yule, W. (1992). PTSD in child survivors of shipping disasters: The sinking of
the Jupiter. Psychotherapy and Psychosomatic, 57, 200–205.

Zubenko, W. (2002). Developmental issues in stress and crisis. In W. Zubenko
& J. A. Capozzoli (Eds.), Children and disasters (pp. 85–100). New York:
Oxford University Press.

Copyright of Issues in Mental Health Nursing is the property of Taylor & Francis Ltd and its content may not be

copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder’s express written

permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use.

REVIEW ARTICLE

Emotional Competence and its Influences
on Teaching and Learning

Pamela W. Garner

Published online: 2 May 2010
# Springer Science+Business Media, LLC 2010

Abstract This article provides an interdisciplinary review of theory and research linking
aspects of emotional competence to learning and school-related outcomes across childhood.
Drawing upon work in developmental psychology, educational psychology, and teacher
education, this review also discusses the role of teachers in socializing students’ emotions
and considers the strategies and the challenges they face in regulating their own emotions in
the classroom context. Future directions for research in this area are proposed.

Keywords Emotional competence . Emotion understanding . Emotion regulation .

Teacher emotions

Emotional competence is a generic term that has been applied to many types of emotion-
related skills. Early research focused on understanding more about the underlying essences
of the construct. Most recently, emotional competence has been conceived as including the
awareness of emotion, the ability to use and understand emotion-related vocabulary,
knowledge of facial expressions and the situations that elicit them, knowledge of the
cultural rules for displaying emotion, and skill in managing the intensity of one’s emotional
displays in ways that are appropriate to the audience and the situation (Cole et al. 2004;
Eisenberg and Spinrad 2004).

Emotions are thought to be rooted in relationships because they provide information that
is most meaningful in the context of social exchanges (Saarni 1999; Thompson 1991).
Thus, for the past 15 years or so, researchers interested in emotions have tended to focus on
individual differences in emotional competence and the implications of these differences for
understanding social relationships. These studies have generally shown that, among
children, the understanding of emotion is associated with peer popularity, the ability to
initiate social exchanges with peers, positive conceptions of peer experiences, and prosocial
and empathy-related behavior (Denham 1986; Dunn 1995; Garner and Estep 2001). In

Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321
DOI 10.1007/s10648-010-9129-4

P. W. Garner (*)
New Century College, George Mason University, 4400 University Drive,
MSN 5D3, Fairfax, VA 22030, USA
e-mail: pgarner1@gmu.edu

addition, children who cope with felt emotion in ways that minimize peer conflict tend to be
rated as more likable by peers and have healthier friendships than other children (Fabes and
Eisenberg 1992). In contrast, low levels of emotion regulation in the early years have
robustly predicted long-term behavioral problems (Rydell et al. 2003).

Despite the progress that has been made with respect to understanding the role of
emotional competence in the development of children’s skill in the social arena, a full
understanding of the construct and its utility for human functioning requires attention to
other aspects of children’s development. In this article, it is proposed that emotions are
fundamental to children’s academic and cognitive competence. Specifically, research
adopting both psychological and educational perspectives will be reviewed, with the goal of
integrating these diverse research areas so that a more complete and influential approach to
the study of the emotion–cognition link can be established and the specific emotional
competencies that are most crucial for academic success can be revealed.

This article will commence with a brief overview of the theories of emotions that have
been used most often to study the linkage between emotion and cognition. Then, a
summary and evaluation of the empirical research on the associations between emotional
and academic competence and children and youth are presented. Next, research on teacher
emotions will be discussed. The article concludes with a discussion of the methodological
problems that currently exist in the literature and a presentation of possible research
directions for furthering the research linking emotional competence and children’s readiness
for, adjustment to, and performance in school. This review is meant to be illustrative rather
than comprehensive as the variation in theoretical frameworks and the accompanying
variation in operational definitions, measures, and methods used across studies precludes an
all inclusive review and synthesis of the research on this topic. However, by examining the
existing research, the goal is to bring coherence to the findings so that we may begin to
make some general conclusions regarding the connection between emotional competence
and academic performance as it develops in the early years of development and changes as
children progress through the grade school and adolescent years.

Emotion-Related Psychological Theories of Learning

Various theoretical perspectives have been used to understand and explain the emotion–
cognition link. Motivational theories focus on how emotion regulation ability contributes to
the quality of effort and the degree of persistence individuals exert in completing academic
tasks (Schutz and Davis 2000). Research adopting this framework has shown that children
who display curiosity about school tasks, who are engaged in learning, and maintain positive
feelings when challenged academically tend to perform better in school and on standardized
tests than do other children (Lepper et al. 2005). Research has shown that experiencing
positive emotion may improve problem-solving ability, facilitate recall of affectively neutral
and positive information, and improve decision making (Estrada et al. 1994; Isen and Shalker
1982). Alternatively, attentional control theory posits that optimal cognitive performance is
most likely to occur when attentional resources are dispersed widely than when focused
narrowly on a specific task (Eysenck et al. 2007). The idea is that allocating attentional
resources to the management of emotion may detract from the ability to think and listen
(Blankstein et al. 1989), skills that are important for learning both within and outside of
school. In his differential emotions theory, Izard suggests that the emotion of interest is a
central motivator and stimulant for creative thought and action and that it accounts for
selective attention (Izard (1991). More recently, this theory has been expanded to consider

298 Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321

how overall emotion knowledge allows for the use of appropriate emotion in the
completion of tasks that require high levels of focused attention (Izard 2009).

Emotion-Related Educational Theories of Learning

Educational researchers have also done significant theoretical work linking emotion and
cognition. Some of this work has borrowed from social psychological theories that focus on
goals and motivation (e.g., Linnenbrink 2006). For example, according to the control value
theory of achievement emotions proposed by Pekrun (2006), individual’s appraisals of
control and their values regarding achievement are central to the arousal of emotions
associated with learning in school. Some of these emotions are related to the effort
associated with completing the academic task (e.g., enjoyment, frustration, and boredom),
and other emotions are associated with children’s experiences of success or failure in
completing the task (e.g., joy, hope, pride, anxiety, hopelessness, shame, and anger).

Still another viewpoint of the emotion–cognition linkage is characterized by the premise
that student goals and the emotions they experience in relation to these goals are influenced
by the social and historical context. That is, students’ emotional expressions are a function
of how they were socialized as well as how the emotion is currently being experienced
(Schutz et al. 2006). This approach resembles the emotion socialization conceptual
framework adopted by developmental scholars to understand how children learn about
emotions from parents (Eisenberg et al. 1998).

Although less well established than the previously discussed theories, another important
and more controversial perspective of the emotion–cognition connection is the emotional
intelligence (EI) framework. EI is a term that has been applied to the ability to correctly
perceive facial, behavioral, and situational cues of emotions in the pursuit of a social goal
(Mayer and Salovey 1997). Whereas EI has similarities to the emotional knowledge
construct discussed earlier, it encompasses personality and motivational traits and other
affective skills such as empathy, self-concept, and assertiveness (Zeidner et al. 2002) that
are not captured in traditional measures of emotion understanding, such that a strong case
could be made that EI reflects something different than emotional knowledge.

Several theoretical perspectives have been proposed to explain the association between
emotion and cognition. Most emphasize the importance of having awareness and
understanding of emotional cues and the ability of regulating and managing the experience
and expression of emotion, although they sometimes differ in the emphasis that they place
on intrapersonal versus interpersonal cues. In the immediately following sections, I will
survey the research linking these two aspects of emotional competence to children’s
cognition and learning, after first providing a chronology of how each develops.

Method

Literature search strategy

Several methods were used to locate the studies included in this review. To begin, a
computer search of Psychological Abstracts (PsychLIT) was conducted using search terms
connected directly with the understanding and regulation of emotion. For emotion
knowledge, relevant articles were chosen if they specifically mentioned the word emotion
knowledge, emotion situation knowledge, emotion understanding, affective knowledge,

Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321 299

emotional/affective perspective taking, emotion recognition, emotion perception, emotional/
affective intelligence, emotional display rule knowledge or if the words knowledge,
understanding, intelligence, recognition , or perception were paired with a specific emotion
type (e.g., happiness, sadness, anger, and fear). These terms were chosen based on the work
of prominent researchers and theorists who study children’s knowledge of emotions,
including Harris (2000), Izard (2001), Michalson and Lewis (1985), and Saarni and Harris
(1999). Emotion regulation was the sole term used to search for the emotion regulation
studies. Once located, studies were chosen for inclusion in this review if they met the
criteria of focusing on emotion knowledge and/or emotion regulation in conjunction with
academic or cognitive outcomes in school settings. From this search, relevant articles
referenced by those articles located using the computer search method were also located.
Finally, a manual search was conducted of the following journals published between 1979
until 2009: Child Development, Developmental Psychology, Social Development, Early
Education and Development, Journal of School Psychology, School Psychology Quarterly,
Early Childhood Research Quarterly, Educational Psychologist, Educational Psychology
Review, Emotion, Cognition and Emotion, Journal of Nonverbal Behavior, and Teacher and
Teacher Education.

Emotion Knowledge

Emotion knowledge is a construct that has been studied across the life span, and it has come
to play a central explanatory role in predicting the quality of social relationships in many
different contexts for people of all ages. However, investigations of emotion knowledge
typically focus on young children and, as will become clear later, those that include older
individuals tend to be limited in the modes of assessment that are used to measure the
emotion knowledge construct.

Emotion knowledge in early childhood

An important precursor of emotion knowledge is the ability to talk about internal states, a
skill that emerges early in the second year of life. Indeed, some have even argued that the
ability to talk about emotions is one of the earliest indicators of the emotion–cognition
connection (Izard 2009). Young toddlers’ ability to talk about internal states that include
feelings is thought to demonstrate early self-understanding, moral awareness, and emotion
regulation (Bretherton et al. 1986; Brown and Dunn 1991). Some 2-year olds can correctly
sort photographs of facial expressions of happiness and sadness and can distinguish between
high and low intensities of these emotions (Nelson and DeHaan 1997). Still, the bulk of
research on emotion knowledge in early childhood has been concerned with children at least
3 years of age. These studies have considered children’s understanding of emotional
expressions and their knowledge of the normative reactions to emotion-eliciting situations
(i.e., emotion situation knowledge). Knowledge of emotional expressions is concerned with
the comprehension verbal labels for facial displays of emotion, whereas emotion situation
knowledge involves the ability to reason about the contextual and situational cues of emotion.

Children learn the labels and expressions and situations associated with happiness,
sadness, and anger before they learn about the facial and situational cues of fear and
surprise. These findings hold regardless of whether emotion knowledge is assessed with
emotion recognition tasks where children are asked to identify a facial label after first being
given the verbal label or whether the stimuli focus on hypothetical or live events, line

300 Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321

drawings, real people or photographs of real people posing emotions, or puppets who “act
out “ emotions vocally, behaviorally, and contextually (Denham and Couchoud 1990; Fabes
et al. 2001; Garner and Estep 2001; Michalson and Lewis 1985), but children may perform
better if they are asked to interpret emotions of children belonging to their own ethnic
group (Glanville and Nowicki 2002). Importantly, these results have been demonstrated in
ethnic minority, low-income, and behaviorally maladjustment children (e.g., Downs et al.
2007; Garner et al. 1994; Smith and Walden 1999).

Emotion knowledge in school-age and adolescent children

As children move into grade school, they progress beyond the ability to label and understand
facial expressions and emotion-eliciting situations to a fuller understanding of emotions that
includes knowledge of complex emotions, an understanding that individuals can feel two
different emotions about the same event, and emotional display rule knowledge. Higher-
level emotion understanding requires a consideration for an audience (e.g., peers and
teachers) and an awareness of the cultural norms for emotional expression (Saarni 1999).

Although some preschoolers can understand pride when facial cues are accompanied by
behavioral cues such as chest expansion and pulled back shoulders (Tracy et al. 2005),
school-age children have a more advanced understanding of shame, pride, and guilt. This is
significant for understanding the emotion–cognition link because these emotions are
commonly expressed in schools. Unlike most preschoolers, school-age children are also
aware of the possibility that the same individual can experience different emotions
simultaneously. For example, a child can experience sadness at the thought of moving away
and leaving behind a treasured friend while also experiencing excitement at the prospect of
meeting a new best friend. School-age children are also less reliant on external cues than
younger children when evaluating the emotions of others (Harris 1989).

School-age children also know the importance of hiding their internal feelings because they
understand better than younger children the negative consequences associated with expressing
the “wrong” emotions during social interactions (Parker and Gottman 1989). Sometime around
third grade, children begin to understand that it is sometimes necessary to appear regulated
even when physiologically and affectively aroused (Gross and Levenson 1997). This is
referred to as emotional display rule knowledge. Display rule knowledge involves an
understanding that one can conceal his/her internal feelings by maintaining a neutral facial
expression, varying the intensity of the emotional expression, or masking the “true” emotion
by displaying a different emotion (Matsumoto et al. 2005; Saarni 1979). This type of emotion
knowledge operates to help children to identify situations in which the expression of certain
emotions would be socially unacceptable (e.g., Zeman and Garber 1996), such as expressing
sadness, disappointment, or embarrassment at earning a poor grade or regulating the
expression of pride at receiving an excellent grade when a friend receives a low mark. These
more advanced skills are predicated upon the ability to understand emotional expressions and
the normative response to emotion-eliciting situations described earlier, and some children
show rudimentary ability to express complex emotions and a beginning understanding of the
rules for displaying emotions as early as toddlerhood (Barrett et al. 1993).

As suggested in the research described above, the understanding of the most basic
emotions (i.e., happiness, sadness, anger, fear, and surprise) is well established by the
beginning of the middle-school grades (McClure 2000). However, children continue to
show improvements in the understanding of emotion-eliciting situations and in the
understanding of subtle cues of emotion as they move into the adolescent years and
beyond (Markham and Adams 1992; Thomas et al. 2007). Interestingly, individuals began

Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321 301

to show age-related declines in the understanding of emotions at about 30 years of age (Mill
et al. 2009), particularly for the emotions of anger and sadness (Phillips et al. 2002).

Emotion Regulation

Whereas emotion knowledge represents the acquisition and understanding of emotion,
emotion regulation ability has to do with performance. Emotion regulation has often been
defined as the ability to successfully manage emotional arousal and skill in controlling
one’s internal state and the external expression of that state (Thompson 1991). The
expression of positive and negative emotion must be regulated, but the greatest pull for the
management of emotion occurs in response to negatively valenced emotions (Barrett et al.
2001). Some researchers focus on how the emotion is initially expressed (i.e., antecedent-
focused emotion regulation) and therefore managed, whereas others focus on the outcomes
of an emotion regulation strategy (i.e., a response-focused emotion regulation strategy) in
their assessment of skill in this area (see Cole et al. 2004; Gross 1998). What is widely
accepted, though, is that emotion regulation involves physiological, neurologic, motiva-
tional, and behavioral processes. Researchers obviously differ in the extent to which they
focus on singular or multidimensional dimensions of the construct. Moreover, emotion
regulation, at least aspects of it, is explained by individual differences that are biologically
rooted, present very early in life, and stable across time and context, points which are not
always addressed in studies on this topic (Eisenberg and Spinrad 2004).

Emotion regulation in early childhood

From birth, young children experience physiological and interpersonal events that elicit
extreme intense levels of both negative and positive emotions (Karraker et al. 1994). The
ability to manage these negative emotional events is an important developmental
achievement because the maintenance of positive affect is associated with later cognitive
and social competence, and early emotional behavior is thought to be predictive of later
affective skills (Cicchetti et al. 1991). The entry into toddlerhood marks a particularly
challenging time for developing emotion regulation ability because aggression is at its
highest level during this period in development (Shaw et al. 1994). Thus, early attempts at
emotion regulation tend to be aided by parents and other adults. However, sometime during
the second year of life, the expectation is that children will come to rely on their own
internal resources to manage their emotions (Cicchetti et al. 1991; Kopp 1989). For
instance, mothers of toddlers are less likely than mothers of infants to eliminate emotional
stressors or attempt to soothe their children (Karraker et al. 1994). These maternal
interventions continue to decrease as children move from toddlerhood to the preschool
years (Spinrad et al. 2004). During the preschool years, children continue to show
improvement in the development of emotion regulation ability and can implement carefully
planned strategies (i.e., venting, actively resisting negative overtures from a peer, and
seeking the assistance of a supportive adult) for responding to stimuli and situations that
evoke negative emotion (Fabes and Eisenberg 1992).

Emotion regulation in school-age and adolescent children

During the middle school years, children become better at turning their attention away from
behavioral emotion regulation strategies to those that are more complex and internally based,

302 Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321

such as acceptance, cognitive distraction, and positive reappraisal of the emotion-eliciting event
(Harris 1989). As individuals move into the adolescence and early adulthood, they become
less focused on emotion-related goals for regulating emotions and more concerned with the
acquisition of different skills built around “new” experiences (Carstensen et al. 2003).

Difficulty regulating emotional expression is an important predictor of problematic
social relationships across the life span regardless of whether emotion regulation is
conceptualized as a global ability, if regulation of specific emotions is measured, or whether
antecedent-focused or response-focused emotion regulation strategies and behaviors are
considered. For example, elementary children who have peer difficulties tend to be
characterized as higher than other children in negative arousal and emotional reactivity
(Kochenderfer-Ladd 2004), and children rated as being frequently angry at both home and
school are more likely than other children to be victimized by peers (Hanish et al. 2004).
Moreover, adolescent children who are unable to effectively regulate their emotions may be
at increased risk for adolescent depression, the inability to seek out others for support, and
disengagement (Garber et al. 1995; Silk et al. 2003). Socially incompetent children may
have difficulty controlling the expression of positive emotion as well (Miller and Olson
2000). Importantly, some researchers have hypothesized that emotion regulation is
predicated upon the ability to understand emotions (Cicchetti et al. 1995).

Linkages Between Emotion Knowledge and Academic and School-related Competence

Though the literature is laden with work linking challenges in the understanding, processing,
and regulation of emotion to social and behavioral outcome measures, relatively little research
has examined the question of how aspects of emotional competence relates to school outcomes
across childhood. This is despite the fact that emotion-related problems are a frequent cause for
referral of school children for psychological services (Greenberg et al. 1991). Indeed, emotion-
related problems in young children represent one of the most challenging issues for educators
because of the heightened affect that is often present in the classroom (McCabe et al. 2000),
and educational researchers have hypothesized that the awareness, appraisal, and understand-
ing of emotions are critical to the creation of a positive classroom climate that encourages
effective instructional engagement for students and teachers (Meyer and Turner 2006).

Language competence

In early childhood, studies considering the linkage between emotion knowledge and
cognitive outcomes have focused, to a large extent, on language competence as the measure
of cognitive competence. For example, a study conducted by Colwell and Hart (2006)
demonstrated that emotion knowledge was positively associated with preschoolers’
language competence as measured by the Peabody Picture Vocabulary Test. Children’s
ability to label emotions was assessed with drawings of an adult female expressing
happiness, sadness, anger, and fear. Scores on this measure were aggregated with scores on
a measure that assessed the children’s understanding of the situational determinants of these
same emotions using hypothetical vignettes that involved a female child. The authors do
not explain why pictures of an adult female were used in the affective labeling task and
pictures of a female child were used in the emotion situation knowledge task or discuss how
this might have impacted children’s emotion knowledge scores.

The link between language competence and emotion knowledge has also been
demonstrated in research on European children. Specifically, Cutting and Dunn (1999)

Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321 303

assessed multiple forms of child language, which included measures on the standardized
British Picture Vocabulary Scale, a measure of receptive language and children’s ability to
retell a story from a picture book, and a measure of expressive language. From the narrative
assessment, the length and grammatical complexity of the children’s sentences were also
determined. Affective labeling and knowledge of situational cues of emotion were included
as separate components of children’s emotion knowledge. As before, receptive vocabulary
was positively related to both types of emotion knowledge, as was narrative performance on
the story retelling and sentence length and complexity. Interestingly, grammatical
complexity was associated only with the more advanced type of emotion knowledge,
namely, emotion situation knowledge. In a study of first- and second-grade children,
Trentacosta et al. (2006) found an association between verbal ability as assessed by the
Stanford-Binet vocabulary subtest and children’s knowledge of facial expressions and their
understanding of prototypical situations related to happiness, sadness, anger, and fear as
assessed with the Assessment of Children’s Emotion Skills Scales developed by the
authors.

Other research involving school-age children has also shown links between emotion
knowledge and vocabulary scores. Using a small sample, Bajgar and her colleagues
conducted a validation study of a “new” emotion knowledge task called the Levels of
Emotional Awareness Scale for Children. Children aged 9 to 12 years were presented 12
evocative interpersonal scenarios that were developed to elicit feelings of anger, fear,
happiness, or sadness and asked to provide written responses to the following two questions
“How would you feel?” and “How would the other person feel?” Children’s performance
on the Levels of Emotional Awareness Scale for Children was positively related to their
scores on the vocabulary subtest of the Weschler Intelligence Scale for Children-Revised
and to another measure of language competence (i.e., the total number of words children
used to respond to the emotion scenarios; Bajgar et al. 2005).

Some have argued that the linkage between emotion knowledge and language
competence is due to the fact that most tasks of emotion understanding require verbal
fluency for the children to be successful (Shields et al. 2001). Others, however, have
suggested that language competence provides an important vehicle for children to label,
articulate, and acknowledge their own and others’ emotional feelings and experiences so that
the specific act of learning to talk about emotions is adaptive and functional (Izard 2009).

Attentional competence

As suggested by attentional control theory, problems understanding emotions might also
contribute to children’s inability to attend during instructional tasks. Children with higher
emotion knowledge scores appear to be better than other children at focusing and sustaining
attention in the classroom (Nelson et al. 1999). Emotion knowledge at the beginning of the
school year also predicts attentional competence at the end of the year for early elementary
school children. In a study of first- and second-grade children, (Trentacosta et al. 2006)
assessed children’s emotion knowledge using the Assessment of Children’s Emotion Skills
Scales, which measures knowledge of facial expressions and children’s understanding of
prototypical situations related to happiness, sadness, anger, and fear. Children were also
asked to nominate classmates who expressed the highest level of happiness, sadness, and
anger. Attentional competence was assessed using the teacher-rated cognitive concentration
subscale of the Teacher Observation of Classroom Adaptation. Fall measures of emotion
knowledge predicted attentional competence assessed later that spring. Children nominated
by their peers as being happier than their peers were rated by teachers as being more

304 Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321

attentionally competent than other children. On the other hand, those children with higher
sadness and anger nominations were rated as less attentionally competent. Given that these
studies are correlational, it is also plausible that attentional control contributes to emotion
knowledge. For example, preschoolers’ attentional control as assessed by teacher report
longitudinally predicts children’s knowledge of the prototypical response to emotion-
eliciting situations (Schultz et al. 2001).

Overall school adaptation

In other work, Izard and his colleagues assessed economically disadvantaged preschoolers’
ability to point to the correct emotional expression and their ability to produce a label for
nine basic emotions. These two scores were aggregated to reflect a total emotion knowledge
score. At 9 years of age, skills in reading, math, and motivation to succeed were evaluated
by teachers. Preschoolers’ scores on the emotion knowledge composite meaningfully
predicted social skills, behavioral dysregulation, and academic competence at age 5 and
positively predicted academic competence at age 9, even after controlling for gender,
language competence, and temperament (Izard et al. 2001). In similar work, Shields and her
colleagues assessed the emotion knowledge of Head Start enrolled preschoolers in the
Winter months using a composite of emotion situation knowledge and affective perspective
taking and correlated it with teachers’ ratings of the children’s academic skills (i.e., reading
readiness, number recognition and counting, language skills, and compliance to classroom
rules) at year end. The emotion knowledge composite was positively related to teacher-
rated school adjustment and adaptation (Shields et al. 2001). However, Miller et al. (2006)
reported that emotion knowledge was unrelated to teachers’ ratings of children’s
cooperation and self-control in the classroom, after controlling for age and verbal ability.

Intelligence and achievement test scores

Among preschoolers, an association between emotion knowledge scores and performance
on intelligence quotient (IQ) tests has also been found among normally developing,
maltreated, and children at environmental risk because of low socioeconomic status (SES)
and maternal education (Garner and Waajid 2008; Pears and Fisher 2005; Sullivan et al.
2008), and toddlers’ IQ scores positively predict emotion knowledge 2 years later (Bennett
et al. 2005). Oddly, emotion knowledge is not associated with young children’s
perceptions of their school ability, at least in the early elementary years (Donelan-McCall
and Dunn 1997), but emotion understanding may make children more sensitive to teacher
criticism about their performance and behavior (Cutting and Dunn 2002). Although not
specified in the work itself, these findings lend themselves to an interpretation consistent
with the motivational theories proposed by Linnenbrink (2006), Pekrun (2006), and even
the differential emotions theory of Izard (2009), who propose that emotion can impact the
amount of interest and attention that is devoted to an academic task and that certain
emotions become activated at the anticipation of certain academic-related experiences,
such as test taking. This may work well when the emotions are positive and not so well
when the activated emotions are negative, though some types of negative emotions (e.g.,
anxiety and frustration) can be transformed into interest or motivate a student to put more
effort into the learning tasks, whereas other types of negative affect (e.g., anger and
sadness) may lead to abandonment of the task altogether (Efklides 2006).

Considerably less is known about the specific role of emotional competence in
predicting school-age children’s IQ and achievement test scores. However, consistent with

Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321 305

the findings reported above, Farmer and his colleagues assessed kindergarteners’ emotion
situation knowledge using the Emotion Recognition Questionnaire developed by Ribordy et
al. 1988) and found that it, along with performance on the Weschler Intelligence Scale for
Children-Revised, predicted third-grade academic grades (Farmer et al. 2002). In another
study, Collins and Nowicki (2001) administered the Diagnostic Analysis of Nonverbal
Accuracy (DANVA; Nowicki and Duke 1994) to low- and middle-income African
American children averaging 10 years of age and investigated whether their scores were
associated with children’s achievement scores on the Iowa Basic Skills. The DANVA
assesses children’s ability to understand emotions via facial expressions, postures, gestures,
and tones of voice as well as the ability to send these emotional signals to others.
Interestingly, children’s ability to express affect and understand others’ affect as assessed
with the DANVA was positively associated with academic achievement, but not IQ.

A significant body of research has explored the link between emotion and cognition in
populations at risk for poor learning outcomes. For example, children diagnosed with
attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and other learning disabilities have more
difficulty understanding emotions overall and anger in particular than other children
(Norvilitis et al. 2000; Singh et al. 1998). In other research, the emotion knowledge of
children and adults varying in levels and etiologies of mental disability was evaluated using
photographs of emotional expressions normed and standardized by Ekman and Friesen
(1975) and compared with that of nondisabled matched controls. Results indicated that
children with mental disability were less proficient in the understanding of emotions and
that those children with milder levels of disability were more accurate at recognizing
emotions than those with a more moderate form of the disability (McAlpine et al. 1992).
Finally, children varying in the presence of symptoms associated with the presence of
learning disabilities (i.e., achievement scores below grade level, but average or above
average intelligence) listened to stories designed to elicit feelings of happiness, loneliness,
shame, pride, and guilt and were then asked to identify emotions from pictures devoid of
facial cues. Children with more severe learning disabilities performed less well than other
children on both the listening and visual emotion knowledge tasks and were less
knowledgeable of emotional display rules (Bauminger et al. 2005).

Affective intervention programs

Indirect evidence for the link between emotion knowledge and school outcomes can also be
gleaned from research on intervention programs. Preschool children’s participation in an
emotion-based intervention program is associated with increases in emotion knowledge,
emotion regulation skills, and social competence and decreased expression of negative emotions
in preschool (Domitrovich et al. 2007; Izard et al. 2004; Izard et al. 2008). School-age
children’s participation in emotion-based intervention programs has also been associated with
increased cognitive performance, improved classroom climate, and decreased behavior
problems (Cook et al. 1994; Domitrovich et al. 2007; Greenberg and Kusche 1998; Linares,
et al. 2005). These programs have been successful when offered as small focused programs
and when implemented in large urban public schools (Linares et al. 2005).

Recall that the global emotion knowledge construct includes the understanding of the
causes and consequences of emotion, its relational context, the expected bodily sensations
and facial expressions for emotions, the rules for displaying emotions in the presence of
others, and the available repertoire of actions to enhance or reduce emotion (Barrett et al.
2001). Many researchers studying this topic work from a social contextual approach,
investigating the role of emotion knowledge in the development of positive social

306 Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321

interactions and relationships. In general, this research has shown that children who do not
develop a higher-level emotion understanding are at risk for responding inappropriately in
social situations (e.g., Denham 1986). Few studies have used the perspectives of the
educational and psychological theories reviewed earlier in this paper to examine relations
between emotion knowledge and school-related outcomes in children. For that reason, other
than the social aspects linking emotion understanding, we do not fully understand the
reasons for the linkages between aspects of emotion knowledge and children’s learning
outcomes. Attention to these other theoretical approaches offers the opportunity to better
understand how emotion knowledge or the lack of it impacts children’s learning in the
classroom.

Emotional Intelligence and Linkages to Academic Outcomes

As already noted, there is some overlap between emotion knowledge and EI in that they
both focus on the appraisal of emotions from facial, situational, and behavioral cues and the
ability to regulate emotions through the implementation of strategies aimed at managing the
experience and expression of emotion. Scores on global measures of EI have been unrelated
to intelligence test scores in college-age students, but positively related to grade point
average (GPA) and other indices of school success for both high school and college-age
students (Marquez et al. 2006; Schutte et al. 1998). However, general mental ability as
assessed with standardized measures of intelligence explains more variance in GPA than EI
(Song et al. 2010), at least for Chinese students. Performance on EI measures correlates
with the quality of children’s processing of emotion-related information (Austin 2005).
Current views of EI also incorporate the notion that emotional skills are an important
prerequisite for the creation of a democratic classroom and school environment (Elias et al.
2003). In related work, classroom management theory posits that classrooms conducive to
learning are emotionally regulated (Emmer and Stough 2001) and encourage positive
teacher–student interactions and collaborative peer relationships (Boekaerts 1993).

In considering these findings, it is important to point out that there has been some
disagreement about the extent to which EI overlaps conceptually with emotion knowledge
(Izard 2001), although higher EI is associated with the ability to identify facial expressions
of emotions (Ciarrochi et al. 2001). In addition, there have been questions about the
specificity of the scoring methods for EI and the adequacy of the psychometric properties of
the measures (Izard 2001; Roberts et al. 2001).

Emotion Regulation: Linkages to School-related Developmental Outcomes

Most studies that focus on the role of emotions in the classroom have been concerned with
the construct of emotion regulation. School entry introduces new standards for the
suppression of aggressive and destructive impulses, cooperating with peers and adults
outside of the family, and asserting one’s own needs without violating the rights of others
(Pianta et al. 1995). Although most children experience negative affect in the school
environment, these negative experiences place some children at significant risk for school
refusal (Higa et al. 2002).

Emotion regulation skills have been identified as being important to the ability to focus
selective attention and to apply the mental processes necessary for learning (Blair 2002).
Indeed, experiencing frequent negative emotions in school is thought to narrow thoughts

Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321 307

and critical thinking (Reschly et al. 2008). Further, children who are well regulated
emotionally may be better able than other children to elicit behavior from others that
promotes learning and more likely to be perceived by their teachers as attentive and
cognitively advanced (Eisenberg et al. 2005). Negative emotionality, which includes mood
swings, angry reactivity, and dysregulated emotions as evaluated by Shields and Cicchetti’s
(1997) Emotion Regulation Checklist (ERC), is associated with higher levels of observed
inattentive behavior and hyperactive behavior and lower levels of academic and attentional
competence (Bulotsky-Shearer and Fantuzzo 2004; Keogh and Burstein 1988). In addition,
Head Start children observed to be high in displays of mild negative emotion, anger, and
sadness are rated by teachers to be low in teacher-rated classroom adjustment (Miller et
al. 2004).

Children high in emotional intensity also tend to be less engaged than other children
during a structured mother-child joint planning task (Perez and Gauvain 2005), skills that
are important for learning, especially in the early years of grade school. Additionally,
kindergarteners who are rated by their teachers as expressing high levels of intense negative
emotions in the classroom are more likely than other children to be rated by their third
grade teachers as having significant school performance problems that include having poor
study skills and being unable to complete tests and follow instructions (Nelson et al. 1999).
Emotion regulation problems in the early years are also predictive of early school dropout
(Ensmiger and Slusarick 1992; Rose et al. 1989).

On the whole, very little attention has been paid to the exploration of possible linkages
between emotion regulation and indicators of school progress and success for grade school
children. This is despite the fact that school is the most common context of negative
emotions for school-age children (Larson and Asmussen 1991) and that the aspects of
emotion regulation that are important to school competence in the early years may be
different from those needed in middle and high school. In addition, once children enter
school, they must learn to manage a new set of emotions, including reactions of guilt,
shame, pride, embarrassment, and boredom that are in direct relation to school performance
(Thompson 1991). There is also the emotional control that is required when children are
required to monitor the learning activities associated with homework (Xu 2008) and other
tasks that require completion outside the confines of the classroom environment.

What is also known is that school-age children (ages 7–10 years) who report that they
frequently experience positive emotions in the school environment use more adaptive
cognitive and emotion-focused coping strategies (e.g., self-reliance and problems solving)
and, in turn, report feeling that school work is relevant to their future aspirations and goals
(Reschly et al. 2008). The ability to delay gratification, another measure of emotion self-
regulation, is also associated with success in the early school years (Alexander et al. 1993).
Emotion regulation is associated with academic performance and mathematics achievement
and early literacy skills for kindergarteners, even after controlling for cognitive, attentional,
and social factors, and IQ (Graziano et al. 2007; Ramsden and Hubbard 2002; Walcott and
Landau 2004). In one study, Gumora and Arsenio (2002) evaluated children’s perceptions
of their negative affect associated with academic tasks and of their overall mood and their
conceptions of their academic competency. Teachers also reported on their perceptions of
the children’s moods and information about the children’s grades, and achievements test scores
were also collected. Findings revealed that it was the children who reported experiencing high
levels of affect when engaged in academic tasks who had the lowest GPAs.

Recent research has also suggested that the processing demands associated with some
forms of emotion regulation may actually reduce the regulatory resources that are available
for the successful completion of cognitive tasks (Baumeister et al. 1998). However,

308 Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321

although experiencing sadness seems to detract from children’s ability to recall
educationally relevant material, implementing disengagement as an emotion regulation
strategy rather than actively working through these feelings may work best when children
are faced with time constraints associated with academic assignments (Rice et al. 2007).

In other work, a global measure of self-regulation that includes assessment of emotional,
attentional, and behavioral components is a strong predictor of preschool and kindergarten
children’s math and literacy skills (Blair and Razza 2007; Howse et al. 2003). The
efficiency with which preschoolers deploy and distribute their attentional resources is also
correlated with task behavior (Blair 2003), and effortful control, a measure of attentional
regulation, is associated with children’s task persistence (Valiente et al. 2003). However, for
school-age children, scores on these same measures of self-regulation are associated with
literacy scores, but not math achievement (Liew et al. 2008). This inconsistency across
subjects is especially important as children from different ethnic minority and economic
backgrounds respond with more negative emotion to mathematics than to other subjects
(Stevens et al. 2006). Preschool children’s behavioral self-regulation has also been found to
predict school developmental outcomes in adolescence and adulthood (Ayduk et al. 2000;
Shoda et al. 1990). Behavioral self-regulation (i.e., delay of gratification) may even mediate
the association between family income and cognitive competence in school-age children
(Evans and Rosenbaum 2008). However, whether this same pattern of findings emerges
when a more precise measure of emotion regulation is included is not known.

As already noted, negative affect may signal to some students that more effort is needed
for success and to less successful learners that the learning activity should be abandoned
because it is too difficult (Efklides 2006). Thus, emotion regulation may operate as a
component of resilience, such that maintaining positive emotion and experiencing moderate
levels of negative emotion may encourage a student to persist in the learning task.
Nevertheless, no one theory can account for the findings linking emotion regulation ability
to children’s learning outcomes. Based on the available data, it appears that integrating
motivational and attentional control theories with Izard’s differential emotions theory may
provide the most reasonable explanation of how emotion regulation operates to predict
learning. This means that the theories may work better in concert rather than in isolation to
explain the detailed emotion regulatory processes that positively or negatively impact
children’s learning in school.

Integrating Children’s and Teachers’ Emotions into the Classroom

Because children’s classroom emotion expression also impacts their relationship with
teachers, which in turn can influence their school performance, it is important that we
understand more about how child and teacher emotion intersect in the classroom. A central
topic in research on emotions focuses on the socialization of emotional competence.
Extensive research across a range of studies and laboratories has shown that high levels of
positive parental emotion are associated with children’s knowledge of and regulation of
emotion (Calkins and Hill 2007). On the other hand, parental negative emotion generally
predicts low levels of child emotional competence. Talk about emotions also provides the
opportunity for parents to probe their children for information about the causes and
consequences of their feelings. For instance, parents use emotion-based language to clarify
children’s emotional states, to intensify their awareness of their own and others’ emotions,
and to teach their children how to respond appropriately to emotion-related experiences (see
Eisenberg et al. 1998; Thompson and Meyer 2007).

Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321 309

Unfortunately, the idea of teachers as agents of emotion socialization has received
limited research attention despite the fact that researchers and policy makers have long
called for a greater examination of the role of teachers in the socialization of social
emotional competence (e.g., Eisenberg et al. 1981). Still, emotion as a theme in research on
teaching and teachers is almost nonexistent (Nias 1996), although new evidence on the
topic is beginning to emerge (Schutz and Zembylas 2009). This is an important oversight
because the school is an environment where the arousal of strong emotions occurs
(Hargreaves 2000). Indeed, teachers cite student behavioral and emotional dysregulation
among the major reasons for job stress and burnout (Byrne 1994; Friedman 1995).
Although younger teachers have the greatest propensity for burnout and teachers who
understand their students’ emotions may experience fewer feelings of burnout (Chang
2009), preservice teachers report that they receive very little training about how to develop
social emotional skills in students (Brophy 1988) or how to mange their own internal
feelings and external displays of emotion (Meyer 2009).

Like parents, teachers experience a range of emotions in response to their students’
performance and behavior, including worry, disappointment, hope, enthusiasm, and pride,
among others (Hargreaves 2000), but the emotion of frustration is the number one negative
emotion reported by teachers (Sutton 2007). Teachers can also be distracted and become
emotionally overwhelmed by personal concerns and aspects of teaching that go beyond the
classroom. Learning to attend to these emotions is critical because the inability to control
one’s physiological and behavioral arousal can interfere with the quality of the teaching that
occurs in the classroom. Many teachers recognize the importance of attending to student
emotion as a critical component of their instructional role (Ahn 2005; McCaughtry and
Rovegno 2003; Schwartz and Davis 2006; Sutton 2004), and they use their understanding
of emotion to make curricular decisions and to inform their pedagogical styles and
practices. A small qualitative study has also demonstrated that competent teachers attend to
their own emotions as well as those of their students (Zembylas 2007).

Positive teacher emotions are associated with the use of effective teaching strategies,
whereas high levels of negative teacher emotion appear to impact teachers’ motivation to
teach and students’ ability to learn (Pekrun et al. 2002; Sutton and Wheatley 2003). When
asked, elementary and secondary students report that their teachers often yell and vent when
they are angry (Lewis 2001), but most preschool teachers are rated as overwhelmingly
warm and engaging (Hyson and Lee 1996). This is important because students who have
high levels of teacher warmth directed at them display higher levels of prosocial and
sympathetic behavior in the preschool classroom (Kienbaum 2001), which may allow for
greater opportunities for children to learn from peers and teachers. Children are also more
likely to be on task and exert more effort into their academic tasks when they have a
classroom teacher who displays high levels of positive affect (Davis 2003). There may be
neurological reasons for this as positive emotion seems to boost the functioning of the part
of the brain where the working memory is located (Perlstein et al. 2002).

Teachers also talk about emotions. Much of the work on this topic though focuses on the
ways in which teachers describe the feelings they experience when teaching or talking
about the relationships they have developed with particular students. In general, teachers
talk of experiencing positive emotions when they perceive their students as making optimal
academic progress and discuss negative emotions in relation to classroom management
problems or other issues that interfere with their ability to teach well, such as poor
relationships with parents and colleagues, student inattention, and/or student disengagement
(Lasky 2000; Nias 1996; Sutton and Wheatley 2003). However, almost nothing is known

310 Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321

about how teachers talk about their own emotions or about students’ emotions, although
some research has indicated that teachers talk infrequently with students about their feelings
(Hyson et al. 1990). At the same time, we do know that negative teacher emotions tend to
elicit negative emotions from students (Thomas and Montgomery 1998), which could
interfere with children’s motivation and ability to focus on classroom tasks. Moreover,
teachers’ expression of negative emotion does not improve their mood (Totterdell and
Parkinson 1999). However, teachers who express their negative feelings in a calm way and
explain why they feel that way are more likely to be perceived positively by students in the
later grades (McPherson et al. 2003).

Work on teachers’ classroom management skills is also relevant to research on teachers’
emotions. Teachers tend to agree on the importance of maintaining order and creating a
manageable classroom environment, even when they differ in instructional goals and
teaching styles (Evertson and Weade 1989). Teachers’ ability to create a positive emotional
climate in the classroom is thought to be critically important to the learning that occurs in
schools. In accordance with motivational theories of emotion, teachers may have an easier
time creating a classroom environment conducive to learning when the majority of children
in their classes are emotionally competent and affectively positive (Jennings and Greenberg
2008; Stuhlman and Pianta 2002). Still, some teachers are keenly aware of the importance
of students’ emotions and their own emotions for learning, whereas others show a lack of
attention to both and work instead to make the classroom affectively neutral (Bullogh 2009;
Lewis 2001). There are also differences in how teachers perceive their roles in the
classroom, with some teachers perceiving themselves more as the classroom leader and
clear authority and others conceptualizing their role as one of a facilitator and mentor who
guide children’s learning (Good and Brophy 1986). There are also individual differences in
the extent to which teachers express and allow emotions to be expressed in the classroom,
with many teachers having difficulty regulating their classroom affect (Sutton 2007). There
should also be some recognition of the fact that teacher emotions influence and are
influenced by the emotional climate of the school as well as the principals, teachers, and
parents with whom they interact (Hargreaves 2000; Zembylas 2007).

Interestingly, students are highly attuned to their teachers’ emotional expressions
(Thomas and Montgomery 1998), and teachers’ expression of emotions can either
positively influence students’ comprehension and understanding of the subject matter or
detract from their learning (Hargreaves 2000; Rosiek 2003). Even in the preschool years,
children show an understanding that they should control the expression of emotion in the
presence of adults (Cole 1986). This undoubtedly carries over to the formal school
environment. For example, as children grow older, their reactions to anger evoked by a
teacher are different from those that are in response to anger caused by a peer. Students
report feeling more intense negative emotion in response to teacher anger than to peer anger
(Klingman and Zeidner 1993). At the same time, emotional reactions that are considered
adaptive or regulated in response to a peer may be viewed as inappropriate when
responding to a teacher. Klingman and Zeidner (1993) also found differences in how boys
and girls respond to the negative emotions of their teachers. Specifically, adolescent boys
respond to teacher anger with externalized emotions (e.g., anger) and aggressive acts that
include slamming doors and creating classroom disturbances, whereas girls tend to express
more internalized emotions such as sadness. Teachers tend to react less negatively to the
expression of internalized emotions such as sadness, an emotion that is expressed more by
girls than boys, than to anger, which is expressed more frequently by boys (Keenan and
Shaw 1997). Differences in the ways that boys’ and girls’ expression of emotions may

Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321 311

explain why teachers express more negativity in response to behavior of boys than girls and
why they are more likely to have negative relationships with boys than with girls
(Mantzicopoulos and Neuharth-Pritchett 2003; Stuhlman and Pianta 2002).

There is also evidence that the quality of teachers’ relationships with all students
deteriorate as children move into the later grade school years (Feldlaufer et al.. 1988),
which has been found to be correlated with lower scores on self- and teacher-ratings of
social and emotional competence (Murray and Greenberg 2000). Teachers’ emotion-related
responses to school-age children are especially significant because they appear to forecast
student risk for school dropout as early as eighth grade (Rumberger 1995). Thus, training
that is specifically aimed at helping teachers learn to deal appropriately with anger and
other negative emotions expressed in the classroom may diminish the anger that they both
experience and direct toward their students, which may improve the emotional climate of
the classroom as well as the quality of the individual student–teacher relationships and
subsequent learning that occurs in schools (Alvarez 2007). Training teachers to work with
children who have difficulty understanding and regulating emotions should be a priority
because they are often called on to aid children in appraising the emotions of others and to
help them dampen or intensify their emotional expressions to meet the demands of the
school environment.

Conclusions

In sum, two components of emotional competence have been proposed to explain school-
related outcomes in children and youth, namely, emotion knowledge and emotion
regulation. Despite the fact that investigations linking children’s as well as teachers’
emotional competence and behavior to children’s learning are on the rise, there is a need for
continued research in this area and there are still major gaps in how the research has been
applied in real-world classrooms.

Recommendations for Future Research Linking Children’s Emotional Competence
to Learning

& Much of the research demonstrating these associations has focused on young children.
Researchers should pay more attention to the association between emotional
competence and school performance in grade school children. The quality and strength
of the associations may change developmentally, and different types of emotion
knowledge or emotion regulation strategies may be more or less important at grade
school than at earlier developmental periods.

& Relatedly, much of the work that does include children at different points in development
is cross-sectional. More longitudinal work is needed as emotional competence may be
associated with certain preschool academic outcomes and not with grade school outcomes
or the reasons for similar linkages across different time points might be different. It is also
important to document whether the associations between emotional competence and
school-related outcome variables persist into adolescence, a developmental period when
knowledge of emotions and emotion regulation ability are more developed.

& As some researchers have hypothesized that emotion knowledge may increase
children’s ability to regulate emotions (Wranick et al. 2007), a consideration of the
interplay between emotion knowledge and emotion regulation in predicting school-

312 Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321

related outcomes must also be explored, as should the potential mediating effects
linking these three constructs.

& Some children come to school with deficits in the areas of emotion knowledge and
emotion regulation that contribute to issues in the classroom, which in turn, could
impact school performance. We need to know more about how interactions with peers
and teachers provide a unique forum for learning about or expanding one’s knowledge
and regulation of emotions.

& Although many affective intervention programs have been developed and evaluated,
whether participation in interventions aimed at increasing attentional skills may also
result in improvements in emotion regulation ability and other aspects of emotional
competence contributes to children’s cognitive abilities should also be investigated
(Rueda et al. 2004).

& Focusing on more discrete aspects of school performance (e.g., attention to instructions,
planning, reading ability, and math ability) rather than on global constructs such as
school adjustment or academic achievement or overall grades may also prove useful in
understanding more about the mechanisms that link emotional competence to academic
performance and the direction of effects.

& More subdomains of emotional competence should also be investigated. Different
methodological techniques are needed to assess these skills. Line drawings and
photographs are frequently used to measure of emotion knowledge. Emotions are dynamic
and fluid and are expressed at varying levels of intensity, and the use of static stimuli may
impact children’s performance on emotion knowledge measures. For instance, differences
in emotional knowledge between children with high and low IQ scores all but disappear
when computerized pictures depicting basic emotions at varying intensity levels are used
as stimuli (Montirosso et al. 2010). Further, emotions are conveyed through multiple
modes that include facial, situational, vocal, and behavioral cues, and it is important to
know whether and how and if these various modes for receiving emotional information
may differentially impact children’s school-related outcomes.

& The development of emotion knowledge and emotion regulation measures that are
appropriate for use with children diagnosed with specific learning problems is also
needed as most of the available measures, especially for emotion knowledge, were
developed for use with children who are developing normally. Similarly, the types of
measures of academic competence also need to be expanded to include behavioral
observations, grades, direct assessments, and samples of specific school assignments
across a variety of subject domains for a variety of populations.

Recommendations for Future Research Linking Teachers’ Emotions to Children’s
Learning

As already noted, teachers also bring their cultural differences to school with them. Some
teachers are able to adjust their attitudes about emotions and teaching styles to the culture
and context of the students they teach. For example, a style of expressing intense verbal and
facial displays of negative emotion may indicate concern and warmth to ethnic minority
children enrolled in low-income urban schools (Gordon 1998), but may mean something
else to children enrolled in affluent suburban schools. Teachers who work in urban schools
tend to believe that expressions of high levels of positive and negative affect contribute to a
classroom that is characterized by mutual respect and increased on-task behavior (Monroe,
and Obidah 2004). Conceptions of emotional competence also vary across teachers,

Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321 313

communities, and schools. Korean teachers are more accepting of young children’s emotional
outbursts and dysregulation than US teachers (Hyson and Lee 1996). When researchers
examine the within group variability of US teachers, they report that minority group
teachers may be less sensitive to the individual differences of emotional expressions and the
emotional aspects of temperament than Caucasian teachers (Franyo and Hyson 1999).

& Understanding the extent to which teachers’ judgments about and reactions to student
emotions reflect their own emotional competencies, beliefs, and/or style of emotional
expression rather than the behaviors and skills of the students themselves is also
important if we are to effect positive change in the way they are trained to deal with the
social emotional learning of their students (see Canivez and Bordenkircher 2002).

& We also need to know more about how teacher training, experience, and classroom size
impact teachers’ affect in the classroom and their responsiveness and reactions to
student emotion.

& A greater understanding of the strategies that teachers use to manage the daily negative
emotion that they obviously experience when delivering disappointing feedback to
students and balance that with the positive emotion that they experience when other
students in the same classroom perform well is also needed. This balancing act has
consequences both for teachers and students.

& Teachers observe children in a variety of academic and social situations that include
dances, romantic encounters, and collaborative learning situations that parents cannot
always witness in the home environment. Convincing teachers to implement research-
based techniques for handling emotion in the schools may provide us with more
objective and accurate information about the emotions of students in schools.

& Attention should also be directed at learning more about the emotion socialization
behaviors of office workers, school social workers, and counselors who also spend
significant time interacting with and observing students.

& Lastly, research on teacher emotions has focused on the emotion self-regulatory aspect
of the emotional competence construct. Knowledge of emotions is also foundational to
teaching, as teachers must correctly appraise student emotions to make sound
instructional decisions and to interact with students successfully (Meyer 2009).

In short, the work in this area is in its infancy. The majority of the studies reviewed in
this article are correlational, and therefore, we do not know if there is a causal relation
between emotional competence and academic performance. Clearly, more refined methods
are needed to examine this question more fully. The research reviewed here also suggests
that a focus on developing interventions aimed at providing teachers with training about
understanding and regulating their own and their students’ emotions would also prove
especially useful as they may be the first to witness the effects of emotional incompetence
on children’s learning. Also problematic is that much of the work reviewed above is not
well linked to theory. Finally, although the goal of this paper differed from that of a
statistical meta-analysis and that unpublished articles and dissertations were not solicited for
inclusion, the studies reviewed are of varying quality, and thus, comparison among the
studies is difficult. In some cases, muddled constructs of emotion knowledge and emotion
regulation were used, which often rendered the work difficult to evaluate. It is for future
research to continue to refine these constructs and the methods used to assess them. A more
complete understanding of the cognitive processes involved in linking emotional
competence to children’s learning in school will also be dependent on an integrated
approach that takes into account both educational and developmental perspectives.

314 Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321

Acknowledgment The author would like to thank Lesley Smith and Lisa Gring-Pemble for comments on an
earlier version of this article.

References

Ahn, H. J. (2005). Teachers’ discussion of emotion in child care centers. Early Childhood Education
Journal, 32, 237–242.

Alexander, K., Entwistle, D., & Dauber, S. (1993). First-grade classroom behavior: Its short-and long-term
consequences for school performance. Child Development, 64, 801–814.

Alvarez, H. K. (2007). The impact of teacher preparation in responses to student aggression in the classroom.
Teaching and Teacher Education, 23, 1113–1126.

Austin, E. J. (2005). Emotional intelligence and emotional information processing. Personality and
Individual Differences, 39, 403–414.

Ayduk, O., Mendoza-Denton, R., Mishel, W., Downey, G., Peake, P., & Rodriquez, M. (2000). Regulating
the interpersonal self: Strategic self-regulation for coping with rejection sensitivity. Journal of
Personality and Social Psychology, 79, 776–792.

Bajgar, J., Ciarrochi, J., Lane, R., & Deane, F. P. (2005). Development of the levels of emotional awareness
scale for children (LEAS-C). British Journal of Developmental Psychology, 23, 569–586.

Barrett, K. C., Zahn-Waxler, C., & Cole, P. M. (1993). Avoiders vs. amenders: Implications for the
investigation of guilt and shame during toddlerhood? Emotion and Cognition, 7, 481–505.

Barrett, L., Gross, J., Christensen, T. C., & Benvenuto, M. (2001). Knowing what you’re feeling and
knowing what to do about it: Mapping the relation between emotion differentiation and emotion
regulation. Cognition and Emotion, 15, 713–724.

Baumeister, R., Bratslavsky, E., Muraven, M., & Tice, D. M. (1998). Ego-depletion: Is the active self a
limited resource? Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 74, 1252–1265.

Bauminger, N., Edelsztein, H. S., & Morash, J. (2005). Social information processing and emotional
understanding in children with LD. Journal of Learning Disabilities, 38, 45–61.

Bennett, D. S., Bendersky, M., & Lewis, M. (2005). Antecedents of emotion knowledge: Predictors of
individual differences in young children. Cognition and Emotion, 19, 375–396.

Blair, C. (2002). School readiness: Integrating cognition and emotion in a neurobiological conceptualization
of child functioning at school entry. American Psychologist, 57, 111–127.

Blair, C. (2003). Behavioral inhibition and behavioral activation in young children: Relations with self-
regulation and adaptation to preschool in children attending Head Start. Developmental Psychobiology,
42, 301–311.

Blair, C., & Razza, R. P. (2007). Relating effortful control, executive function, and false belief understanding
to emerging math and literacy ability in kindergarten. Child Development, 78, 647–663.

Blankstein, B., Toner, B. B., & Flett, G. L. (1989). Test anxiety and the contents of consciousness: Thought
listening and endorsement measures. Journal of Research in Personality, 23, 269–286.

Boekaerts, M. (1993). Anger in relation to school learning. Learning and Instruction, 3, 269–280.
Bretherton, I., Fritz, J., Zahn-Waxler, C., & Ridgeway, D. (1986). Learning to talk about emotions: A

functionalist perspective. Child Development, 57, 529–548.
Brophy, J. (1988). Research linking teacher behavior to student achievement: Potential implications for

instruction of Chapter 1 students. Educational Psychologist, 3, 235–286.
Brown, J., & Dunn, J. (1991). ‘You can cry mum’: The social and developmental implications of talk about

internal states. British Journal of Developmental Psychology, 9, 237–256.
Bullogh, R. V. (2009). Seeking eudaimonia: The emotions in learning to teach and to mentor. In P. A. Schutz

& M. Zembylas (Eds.), Introduction to advances in teacher emotion research: The impact on teachers’
lives (pp. 33–53). New York: Springer.

Bulotsky-Shearer, R., & Fantuzzo, J. (2004). Adjustment scales for preschool intervention: Extending
validity and relevance across multiple perspectives. Psychology in the Schools, 41, 725–736.

Byrne, B. M. (1994). Burnout: Testing for the validity, replication, and invariance of causal structure across
elementary, intermediate, and secondary teachers. American Educational Research Journal, 31, 645–673.

Calkins, S. D., & Hill, A. (2007). Caregiver influences on emerging emotion regulation: Biological and
environmental transactions in early development. In J. J. Gross (Ed.), Handbook of emotion regulation
(pp. 229–248). New York: Guilford.

Canivez, G. L., & Bordenkircher, S. E. (2002). Convergent and divergent validity of the adjustment scales
for children and adolescents and the preschool and kindergarten behavior scales. Journal of
Psychoeducational Assessment, 20, 30–45.

Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321 315

Carstensen, L. L., Fung, H. H., & Charles, S. T. (2003). Socioemeotional selectivity theory and emotion
regulation in the second year of life. Motivation and Emotion, 27, 103–123.

Chang, M. (2009). An appraisal perspective of teacher burnout: Examining the emotional work of teachers.
Educational Psychology Review, 21, 193–218.

Ciarrochi, J., Chan, A. Y. C., & Bajgar, J. (2001). Measuring emotional intelligence in adolescents.
Personality and Individual Differences, 31, 1105–1119.

Cicchetti, D., Ganiban, J., & Barnett, D. (1991). Contributions from the study of high risk populations to
understanding the development of emotion regulation. In J. Garber & K. A. Dodge (Eds.), The
development of emotion regulation and dysregulation (pp. 15–48). New York: Cambridge.

Cicchetti, D., Ackerman, B., & Izard, C. (1995). Emotions and emotion regulation in developmental
psychopathology. Development and Psychopathology, 7, 1–10.

Cole, P. M. (1986). Children’s spontaneous control of facial expression. Child Development, 57, 1309–1321.
Cole, P. M., Martin, S. E., & Dennis, T. A. (2004). Emotion regulation as a scientific construct:

Methodological challenges and directions for child development research. Child Development, 75, 317–
333.

Collins, M., & Nowicki, S. (2001). African American children’s ability to identify emotion in facial
expressions and tones of voice of European Americans. The Journal of Genetic Psychology, 162, 334–
346.

Colwell, M. J., & Hart, S. (2006). Emotion framing: Does it relate to children’s knowledge and social
behavior? Early Child Development and Care, 176, 591–603.

Cook, E. T., Greenberg, M. T., & Kusche, C. A. (1994). The relations between emotion understanding,
intellectual functioning, and disruptive behavior problems in elementary- school-aged children. Journal
of Abnormal Behavior, 22, 205–219.

Cutting, A., & Dunn, J. (1999). Theory of mind, emotion understanding, language, and family background:
Individual differences and interrelations. Child Development, 70, 853–865.

Cutting, A., & Dunn, J. (2002). The cost of understanding other people: Social cognition predicts young
children’s sensitivity to criticism. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 43, 849–860.

Davis, H. (2003). Conceptualizing the role and influence of student-teacher relationships on children’s social
and cognitive development. Educational Psychologist, 38, 207–234.

Denham, S. A. (1986). Social cognition, social behavior, and emotion in preschoolers: Contextual validation.
Child Development, 57, 194–201.

Denham, S. A., & Couchoud, E. (1990). Young preschoolers’ ability to identify emotions in equivocal
situations. Child Study Journal, 20(3), 153–168.

Domitrovich, C. E., Cortes, R. C., & Greenberg, M. T. (2007). Improving young children’s social and
emotional competence: A randomized trail of the preschool “PATHS” curriculum. The Journal of
Primary Prevention, 28, 67–91.

Donelan-McCall, N., & Dunn, J. (1997). School work, teachers, and peers: The world of first grade.
International Journal of Behavioral Development, 21, 155–178.

Downs, A., Strand, P. S., & Cerna, S. (2007). Emotion understanding in English- and Spanish-speaking
preschoolers. Social Development, 16, 410–439.

Dunn, J. (1995). Children as psychologists: The later correlates of individual differences in understanding of
emotions and other minds. Cognition and Emotion, 9, 187–201.

Efklides, A. (2006). Metacognitive experiences: The missing link in the self-regulated learning process.
Educational Psychology Review, 8, 287–291.

Eisenberg, N., & Spinrad, T. (2004). Emotion-related regulation: Sharpening the definition. Child
Development, 75, 334–339.

Eisenberg, N., Cameron, E., Tryon, K., & Dodez, R. (1981). Socialization of prosocial behavior in the
preschool classroom. Developmental Psychology, 17, 773–782.

Eisenberg, N., Cumberland, A., & Spinrad, T. (1998). Parental socialization of emotion. Psychological
Inquiry, 9, 241–273.

Eisenberg, N., Sadovsky, A., & Spinrad, T. (2005). Associations of emotion-related regulation with language
skills, emotion knowledge, and academic outcomes. New Directions for Child and Adolescent
Development, 109, 109–118.

Ekman, P., & Friesen, W. V. (1975). Unmasking the face: A guide to recognizing emotions from facial clues.
Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall.

Elias, M., Arnold, H., & Hussey, C. S. (2003). Introduction: EQ, IQ, and effective learning and citizenship.
In M. Elias & H. Arnold (Eds.), EQ+IQ=best leadership practices for caring and successful schools
(pp. 3–10). Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin Press.

Emmer, E. T., & Stough, L. M. (2001). Classroom management: A critical part of educational psychology,
with implications for teacher education. Educational Psychologist, 36, 103–112.

316 Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321

Ensmiger, M., & Slusarick, A. (1992). Paths to high school graduation or dropout: A longitudinal study of a
first grade cohort. Sociology of Education, 65, 95–113.

Estrada, C., Young, M., & Isen, A. (1994). Positive affect influences creative problem solving and reported
source of practice satisfaction in physicians. Motivation and Emotion, 18, 285–299.

Evans, G. W., & Rosenbaum, J. (2008). Self-regulation and the income-achievement gap. Early Childhood
Research Quality, 23, 504–514.

Evertson, C. M., & Weade, R. (1989). Classroom management and teaching style: Instructional stability and
variability in two junior high English classrooms. The Elementary School Journal, 89, 379–393.

Eysenck, M. W., Derakshan, N., Santos, R., & Calvo, M. G. (2007). Anxiety and cognitive performance:
Attentional control theory. Emotion, 7, 36–353.

Fabes, R. A., & Eisenberg, N. (1992). Young children’s coping with interpersonal anger. Child Development,
63, 116–128.

Fabes, R. A., Eisenberg, N., Hanish, L. D., & Spinrad, T. (2001). Preschoolers’ spontaneous emotion
vocabulary: Relations to likeability. Early Education and Development, 12, 11–27.

Farmer, A.D., Bierman, K., and the Conduct Problems Prevention Group. (2002). Predictors and
consequences of aggressive-withdrawn problem profiles in early grade school. Journal of Clinical
Child and Adolescent Psychology, 31, 299–311.

Feldlaufer, H., Midgley, C., & Eccles, J. S. (1988). Student, teacher, and observer perceptions of the classroom
environment before and after the transition to junior high school. Journal of Early Adolescence, 8, 133–156.

Franyo, G. A., & Hyson, M. C. (1999). Temperament training for early childhood caregivers: A study of the
effectiveness of training. Child & Youth Care Forum, 28, 329–349.

Friedman, I. A. (1995). Student behaviour patterns contributing to teacher burnout. Journal of Educational
Research, 88, 281–289.

Garber, J., Braafladt, N., & Weiss, B. (1995). Affect regulation in depressed and nondepressed children and
young adolescents. Development and Psychopathology, 7, 93–115.

Garner, P. W., & Estep, K. M. (2001). Emotional competence, emotion socialization, and young children’s
peer-related social competence. Early Education and Education, 12, 29–48.

Garner, P. W., & Waajid, B. (2008). The association of emotion knowledge and teacher-child relationships to
preschool children’s school-related developmental competence. Journal of Applied Developmental
Psychology, 29, 89–100.

Garner, P. W., Jones, D. C., & Miner, J. L. (1994). Social competence among low-income preschoolers:
Emotion socialization practices and social cognitive correlates. Child Development, 65, 622–637.

Glanville, D. N., & Nowicki, S. (2002). Facial expression recognition and social competence among African
American elementary school children: An examination of ethnic differences. Journal of Black
Psychology, 28, 318–329.

Good, T. C., & Brophy, J. E. (1986). Educational psychology (3dth ed.). New York: Longman.
Gordon, J. A. (1998). Caring through control: Reaching urban African American youth. Journal for a Just

and Caring Education, 4, 418–440.
Graziano, P. A., Reavis, R. D., Keane, S. P., & Calkins, S. (2007). The role of emotion regulation in

children’s early academic success. Journal of School Psychology, 45, 3–19.
Greenberg, M. T., & Kusche, C. A. (1998). Preventive intervention for school-age deaf children: The PATHS

curriculum. Journal of Deaf Studies, 3, 49–63.
Greenberg, M. T., Kusche, C. A., & Speltz, M. (1991). Emotional regulation, self-control, and

psychopathology: The role of relationships in early childhood. In D. Cicchetti & S. L. Toth (Eds.),
Internalizing and externalizing expressions of dysfunction (pp. 21–55). Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum.

Gross, J. J. (1998). Antecedent- and response-focused emotion regulation: Divergent consequences for
experience, expression, and physiology. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 74, 224–237.

Gross, J. J., & Levenson, R. W. (1997). Hiding feelings: The acute effects of suppressing negative and
positive emotion. Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 106, 95–103.

Gumora, G., & Arsenio, W. F. (2002). Emotionality, emotion regulation, and school performance in middle
school children. Journal of School Psychology, 40, 395–413.

Hanish, L., Eisenberg, N., Fabes, R., Spinrad, T. L., Ryan, P., & Schmidt, S. (2004). The expression and
regulation of negative emotions: Risk factors for young children’s peer victimization. Development and
Psychopathology, 16, 335–353.

Hargreaves, A. (2000). Mixed emotions: Teachers’ perceptions of their interactions with students. Teaching
and Teacher Education, 16, 811–826.

Harris, P. (1989). Children and emotion: The development of psychological understanding. Cambridge, MA:
Basil Blackwell.

Harris, P. (2000). Understanding emotion. In M. Lewis & J. Haviland Jones (Eds.), Handbook of emotions
(2nd ed., pp. 281–292). New York: Guilford.

Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321 317

Higa, C. K., Daleiden, E. L., & Chorpita, B. F. (2002). Psychometric properties and clinical utility of the
school refusal assessment scale in a multiethnic sample. Journal of Psychopathology and Behavioral
Assessment, 24, 247–258.

Howse, R. B., Calkins, S. D., Anastopoulos, A. D., Keane, S. P., & Shelton, T. L. (2003). Regulatory
contributions to children’s kindergarten achievement. Early Education and Development, 14, 101–119.

Hyson, M., & Lee, K. (1996). Assessing early childhood teachers’ beliefs about emotions: Content, contexts,
and implications for practice. Early Education and Development, 7, 59–78.

Hyson, M., Hirsh-Pasek, & Rescorla. (1990). The Classroom Practices Inventory: An observation instrument
based on NAEYC’s guidelines for developmentally appropriate practices for 4-and 5- year-old children.
Early Childhood Research Quarterly, 5, 475–494.

Isen, A., & Shalker, T. E. (1982). The effect of feeling state on evaluation of neutral, positive, and negative
stimuli: When you accentuate the positive, “do you eliminate the negative? Social Psychology Quarterly,
45, 58–63.

Izard, C. E. (1991). The psychology of emotions. New York: Plenum.
Izard, C. E. (2001). Emotional intelligence or adaptive emotions? Emotion, 1, 249–257.
Izard, C. E. (2009). Emotion theory and research: Highlights, unanswered questions, and emerging issues.

Annual Review of Psychology, 60, 1–25.
Izard, C. E., Fine, S., Schultz, D., Mostow, A. J., Ackerman, B. P., & Youngstrom, E. A. (2001). Emotion

knowledge as a predictor of social behavior and academic competence in children at risk. Psychological
Science, 12, 18–23.

Izard, C. E., Trentacosta, C. J., King, K. A., & Mostow, A. J. (2004). An emotion-based prevention program
for Head Start children. Early Education and Development, 15, 407–422.

Izard, C. E., King, K. A., Trentacosta, C. J., Morgan, J. K., Laurenceau, J., Krauthamer-Ewing, E. S., et al.
(2008). Accelerating the development of emotion competence in Head Start children: Effects on adaptive
and maladaptive behavior. Development and Psychopathology, 20, 369–397.

Jennings, P. A., & Greenberg, M. T. (2008). The prosocial classroom: Teacher social and emotional
competence in relation to student and classroom outcomes. Review of Educational Research, 79, 491–
525.

Karraker, K. H., Lake, M. A., & Parry, T. B. (1994). Infant coping with everyday stressful events. Merrill-
Palmer Quarterly, 40, 171–189.

Keenan, K., & Shaw, D. (1997). Developmental and social influences on young girls’ early problem
behavior. Psychological Bulletin, 121, 95–113.

Keogh, B. K., & Burstein, N. D. (1988). Relationship of temperament to preschoolers’ interactions with peers
and teachers. Exceptional Children, 54, 456–461.

Kienbaum, J. (2001). The socialization of compassionate behavior by child care teachers. Early Education
and Development, 12, 139–153.

Klingman, A., & Zeidner, M. (1993). School-related anger in Israeli adolescent students. School Psychology
International, 14, 339–353.

Kochenderfer-Ladd, B. (2004). Peer victimization: The role of emotions in adaptive and maladaptive coping.
Social Development, 13, 329–349.

Kopp, C. (1989). Regulation of distress and negative emotions: A developmental view. Developmental
Psychology, 25, 343–354.

Larson, & Asmussen, L. (1991). Anger, worry, and hurt in early adolescence: An enlarging world of negative
emotions. In M. E. Cotten & S. Core (Eds.), Adolescent stress: Causes and consequences (pp. 21–41).
New York: Aldine de Gruyter.

Lasky, S. (2000). The cultural and emotional politics of teacher-parent interactions. Teaching and Teacher
Education, 16, 843–860.

Lepper, M. R., Corpus, J. H., & Iyengar, S. S. (2005). Intrinsic and extrinsic motivational orientations in
the classroom: Age differences and academic correlates. Journal of Education & Psychology, 97, 184–
196.

Lewis, R. (2001). Classroom discipline and student responsibility: The students’ view. Teaching and Teacher
Education, 17, 307–319.

Liew, J., McTigue, E. M., Barrois, L., & Hughes, J. N. (2008). Adaptive and effortful control and academic
self efficacy beliefs on achievement: A longitudinal study of 1st through 3rd graders. Early Childhood
Research Quarterly, 23, 515–526.

Linares, L. O., Rosbruch, N., Stern, M., Edwards, M. E., Walker, G., Abikoff, H. B., et al. (2005).
Developing cognitive–social–emotional competencies to enhance academic learning. Psychology in the
Schools, 42, 405–417.

Linnenbrink, E. A. (2006). Emotion research in education: Theoretical and methodological perspectives on
the integration of affect, motivation, and cognition. Educational Psychology Review, 18, 307–314.

318 Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321

Mantzicopoulos, P., & Neuharth-Pritchett, S. (2003). Development and validation of a measure to assess
Head Start children’s appraisals of teacher support. Journal of School Psychology, 41, 431–451.

Markham, R., & Adams, K. (1992). The effect of type of task on children’s identification of facial
expression. Journal of Nonverbal Behavior, 16, 21–39.

Marquez, P. G., Martin, R. P., & Brackett, M. (2006). Relating emotional intelligence to social competence
and academic achievement in high school students. Psicothema, 18, 118–123.

Matsumoto, D., Yoo, S. H., Hirayama, S., & Petrova, G. (2005). Development and validation of a measure of
display rule knowledge: The display rule assessment inventory. Emotion, 5, 23–40.

Mayer, J. D., & Salovey, P. (1997). What is emotional intelligence? In P. Salovey & D. Sluyer (Eds.),
Emotional development and emotional intelligence: Educational implications (pp. 3–31). New York:
Basic Books.

McAlpine, C., Singh, N. N., Kendall, K. A., & Ellis, C. R. (1992). Recognition of facial expressions of
emotion by persons with mental retardation. Behavior Modification, 16, 543–558.

McCabe, L. A., Hernandez, M., Lara, S. L., & Brooks-Gunn, J. (2000). Assessing preschoolers’ self-
regulation in homes and classrooms. Behavioral Disorders, 26, 53–69.

McCaughtry, N., & Rovegno, I. (2003). Development of pedagogical content knowledge: Moving from
blaming students to predicting skillfulness, recognizing motor development, and understanding emotion.
Journal of Teaching in Physical Education, 22, 355–368.

McClure, B. B. (2000). A meta-analytic review of sex differences in facial expression processing and their
development in infants, children, and adolescents. Psychological Bulletin, 126, 424–453.

McPherson, M. B., Kearney, P., & Plax, T. G. (2003). The dark side of instruction: Teacher anger as
classroom norm violations. Journal of Applied Communication Research, 31, 76–90.

Meyer, D. K. (2009). Entering the emotional practices of teaching. In P. A. Schutz & M. Zembylas (Eds.),
Introduction to advances in teacher emotion research: The impact on teachers’ lives (pp. 73–91). New
York: Springer.

Meyer, D. K., & Turner, J. C. (2006). Re-conceptualizing emotion and motivation to learn in classroom
contexts. Educational Psychology Review, 18, 377–390.

Michalson, L., & Lewis, M. (1985). What do children know about emotions and when do they know it? In
M. Lewis & C. Saarni (Eds.), The socialization of emotions (pp. 117–139). New York: Plenum.

Mill, A., Alink, J., Realo, A., & Valk, R. (2009). Age-related differences in emotion recognition ability: A
cross-sectional study. Emotion, 9, 619–630.

Miller, A. L., & Olson, S. L. (2000). Emotional expressiveness during peer conflicts: A predictor of social
maladjustment among high-risk preschoolers. Journal of Abnormal Child Psychology, 28, 339–352.

Miller, A. L., Gouley, K. K., Seifer, R., Dickstein, S., & Shields, A. (2004). Emotions and behaviors in the
Head Start classroom: Associations among observed dysregulation, social competence, and preschool
adjustment. Early Education and Development, 15, 147–165.

Miller, A. L., Gouley, K. K., Seifer, R., Dickstein, S., & Shields, A. (2006). Showing and telling about
emotions: Interrelations between facets of emotional competence and associations with classroom
adjustment in Head Start preschoolers. Cognition and Emotion, 20, 1170–1192.

Monroe, C. R., & Obidah, J. E. (2004). The influence of cultural synchronization on a teacher’s perceptions
of disruption: A case study of an African American middle-school classroom. Journal of Teacher
Education, 55, 256–268.

Montirosso, R., Peverelli, M., Frigerio, E., Crespi, M., & Borgatti, R. (2010). The development of dynamic
facial expression recognition at different intensities in 4- to 18-year olds. Social Development, 19, 71–92.

Murray, C., & Greenberg, M. T. (2000). Children’s relationships with teachers and bonds with school: An
investigation of patterns and correlates in middle childhood. Journal of School Psychology, 38, 423–445.

Nelson, C. A., & DeHaan, M. (1997). A neurobehavioral approach to the recognition of facial expressions in
infancy. In J. A. Russel & J. M. Fernandez-Dols (Eds.), The psychology of facial expression (pp. 176–
204). Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press.

Nelson, B., Martin, R. P., Hodge, S., Havill, V., & Kamphaus, R. (1999). Modeling the prediction of elementary
school adjustment from preschool temperament. Personality and Individual Differences, 26, 687–700.

Nias, J. (1996). Thinking about feeling: The emotions in teaching. Cambridge Journal of Education, 26,
293–306.

Norvilitis, J. M., Casey, R., Brooklier, K. M., & Bonello, P. J. (2000). Emotion appraisal in children with
attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder and their parents. Journal of Attention Disorders, 4, 15–26.

Nowicki, S., & Duke, M. P. (1994). Individual differences in the nonverbal communication of affect: The
Diagnostic Analysis of Nonverbal Accuracy Scale. Journal of Nonverbal Behavior, 18, 9–35.

Parker, J., & Gottman, J. (1989). Social and emotional development in a relational context: Friendship
interaction from early childhood to adolescence. In T. Berndt & G. Ladd (Eds.), Peer Relationships in
child development (pp. 95–132). New York: Wiley.

Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321 319

Pears, K., & Fisher, P. A. (2005). Emotion understanding and theory of mind among maltreated children in
foster care. Development and Psychopathology, 17, 47–65.

Pekrun, R. (2006). The control-value theory of achievement emotions: Assumptions, corollaries, and
implications for educational research and practice. Educational Psychology Review, 18, 315–341.

Pekrun, R., Goetz, T., Titz, W., & Perry, R. (2002). Academic emotions in students’ self-regulated learning and
achievement: A program of qualitative and quantitative research. Educational Psychologist, 37, 67–68.

Perez, S. M., & Gauvain, M. (2005). The role of child emotionality in child behavior and maternal instruction
on planning tasks. Social Development, 14, 250–272.

Perlstein, W. M., Elbert, T., & Stenger, A. (2002). Dissociation in human prefrontal cortex of affective
influences on working memory-related activity. Proceedings of the National Academy of Science, 99,
1736–1741.

Phillips, L. H., McLean, R., & Allen, R. (2002). Age and the understanding of emotions: Neuropsychological
and sociocognitive perspectives. Journal of Gerontology: Psychological Sciences, 57, 526–530.

Pianta, R. C., Stienberg, M., & Rollins, K. (1995). The first two years of school: Teacher–child relationships
and deflections in children’s classroom adjustment. Development and Psychopathology, 7, 295–312.

Ramsden, S. R., & Hubbard, J. A. (2002). Family expressiveness and parental emotion coaching: Their role
in children’s emotion regulation and aggression. Journal of Abnormal Child Psychology, 30, 657–667.

Reschly, A. M., Huebner, E. S., Appleton, J. J., & Antaramian, S. (2008). Engagement as flourishing: The
contribution of positive emotions and coping to adolescents’ engagement at school and with learning.
Psychology in the Schools, 45, 419–431.

Ribordy, S. C., Camras, L. A., Stefani, R., & Spaccarelli, S. (1988). Vignettes for emotion recognition research
and affective therapy with children. Journal of Clinical Child and Adolescent Psychology, 17, 322–325.

Rice, J. A., Levine, L., & Pizarro, D. A. (2007). “Just stop thinking about it”: Effects of emotional
disengagement on children’s memory for educational material. Emotion, 7, 812–823.

Roberts, R. D., Zeidner, M., & Matthews, G. (2001). Does emotional intelligence meet traditional standards
for an intelligence? Some new data and conclusions. Emotion, 1, 196–231.

Rose, S. L., Rose, S. A., & Feldman, J. F. (1989). Stability of behavior problems in very young children.
Development and Psychopathology, 1, 5–19.

Rosiek, J. (2003). Emotional scaffolding: An exploration of the teacher knowledge at the intersection of
student emotion and the subject matter. Journal of Teacher Education, 54, 399–412.

Rueda, M. R., Fan, J., McCandliss, B. D., Halparin, J. D., Gruder, D. B., Lercari, L. P., et al. (2004).
Development of attentional networks in childhood. Neurologica, 42, 1029–1040.

Rumberger, R. W. (1995). Dropping out of middle school: A multilevel analysis of students and schools.
American Educational Research Journal, 32, 583–625.

Rydell, A. M., Berlin, L., & Bohlin, G. (2003). Emotionality, emotion regulation, and adaptation among 5- to
8- year-old children. Emotion, 3, 30–47.

Saarni, C. (1979). Children’s understanding of display rules for expressive behavior. Developmental
Psychology, 15, 424–429.

Saarni, C. (1999). The development of emotional competence. New York: Guilford.
Saarni, C., & Harris, P. L. (1999). Children’s understanding of emotion. New York: Cambridge University

Press.
Schultz, D., Izard, C. E., Ackerman, B., & Youngstrom, E. (2001). Emotion knowledge in disadvantaged

children: Self-regulatory antecedents and relations to social difficulties and withdrawal. Development
and Psychopathology, 13, 53–67.

Schutte, N. S., Malouff, J. M., Hall, L. E., Haggerty, D. J., Cooper, J. T., Golden, C. J., et al. (1998).
Development and validation of a measure of emotional intelligence. Personality and Individual
Differences, 25, 167–177.

Schutz, P. A., & Davis, H. A. (2000). Emotions and self-regulation during test taking. Educational
Psychologist, 35, 243–256.

Schutz, P. A., & Zembylas, M. (2009). Introduction to advances in teacher emotion research: The impact on
teachers’ lives. In P. A. Schutz & M. Zembylas (Eds.), Introduction to advances in teacher emotion
research: The impact on teachers’ lives (pp. 3–11). New York: Springer.

Schutz, P. A., Hong, J. Y., Cross, D. I., & Osbon, J. (2006). Reflections of investigating emotion in
educational settings. Educational Psychology Review, 18, 343–360.

Schwartz, E., & Davis, A. S. (2006). Reactive attachment disorder: Implications for school readiness and
school functioning. Psychology in the Schools, 43, 471–479.

Shaw, D. S., Keenan, K., & Vondra, J. I. (1994). Developmental precursors of externalizing behavior: Ages 1
to 3. Developmental Psychology, 30, 355–364.

Shields, A., & Cicchetti, D. (1997). Emotion self-regulation in school-age children: The development of a
new criterion Q-sort scale. Developmental Psychology, 33, 906–916.

320 Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321

Shields, A., Dickstein, S., Seifer, R., Gusti, L., Magee, K. D., & Spritz, B. (2001). Emotional competence and
early school adjustment: A study of preschoolers at risk. Early Education and Development, 12, 73–96.

Shoda, Y., Mischel, W., & Peake, P. (1990). Predicting adolescent cognitive and social competence from
preschool delay of gratification: Identifying diagnostic conditions. Developmental Psychology, 26, 978–986.

Silk, J. S., Steinberg, L., & Morris, A. S. (2003). Adolescents’ emotion regulation in daily life: Links to
depressive symptoms and problem behavior. Child Development, 74, 1869–1880.

Singh, S. D., Ellis, C. R., Winton, A. S., Singh, N. N., Leung, J. P., & Oswald, D. P. (1998). Recognition of
facial expressions of emotion by children with attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder. Behavior
Modification, 22, 128–142.

Smith, M., & Walden, T. (1999). Understanding and feelings and coping with emotional situations: A
comparison of maltreated and nonmaltreated preschoolers. Social Development, 8, 93–116.

Song, L. J., Huang, G., Peng, K., Law, K., Wong, C., & Chen, Z. (2010). The differential effects of general
mental ability and emotional intelligence on academic performance and social interactions. Intelligence,
38, 137–143.

Spinrad, T., Stifter, C., Donelan-McCall, N., & Turner, L. (2004). Mothers’ regulation strategies in response
to toddlers’ affect: Links to later emotion self-regulation. Social Development, 13, 40–55.

Stevens, T., Olivarez, A., & Hammond, D. (2006). The role of cognition and emotion in explaining the
mathematics achievement gap between Hispanic and white students. Hispanic Journal of Behavioral
Sciences, 28, 161–186.

Stuhlman, M. W., & Pianta, R. C. (2002). Teachers’ narratives about their relationships with children:
Associations with behavior in classrooms. School Psychology Review, 31, 148–163.

Sullivan, M., Bennett, D. S., Carpenter, K., & Lewis, M. (2008). Emotion knowledge in young neglected
children Child Maltreatment, 13, 301–306.

Sutton, R. E. (2004). Emotional regulation goals and strategies of teachers. Social Psychology of Education,
7, 379–398.

Sutton, R. E. (2007). Teachers’ anger, frustration, and self-regulation. In P. A. Schutz & R. Pekrun (Eds.),
Emotions in education. San Diego: Elsevier.

Sutton, R. E., & Wheatley, K. F. (2003). Teachers’ emotions and teaching: A review of the literature and
directions for future research. Educational Psychology Review, 15, 327–358.

Thomas, J. A., & Montgomery, P. (1998). On becoming a good teacher: Reflective practice with regard to
children’s voices. Journal of Teacher Education, 49, 372–380.

Thomas, L. A., De Bellis, M. D., Graham, R., & La Bar, K. S. (2007). Development of emotional facial
expression in late childhood and adolescence. Developmental Science, 10, 547–558.

Thompson, R. A. (1991). Emotional regulation and emotional development. Educational Psychology Review,
3, 269–307.

Thompson, R. A., & Meyer, S. (2007). Socialization of emotion in the family. In J. J. Gross (Ed.), Handbook
of emotion regulation (pp. 249–268). New York: Guilford.

Totterdell, P., & Parkinson, B. (1999). Use and effectiveness of self-regulation strategies for improving mood
in a group of trainee teachers. Journal of Occupational Health Psychology, 4, 219–232.

Tracy, J. L., Robinson, R. W., & Lagattuta, K. H. (2005). Can children recognize pride? Emotion, 5, 251–257.
Trentacosta, C. J., Izard, C. E., Mostow, A. J., & Fine, S. E. (2006). Children’s emotional competence and

attentional competence in early elementary school. School Psychology Quarterly, 21, 148–170.
Valiente, C., Eisenberg, N., Smith, C. L., Reiser, M., Fabes, R. A., Losoya, S., et al. (2003). The relations of

effortful control and reactive control to children’s externalizing problems: A longitudinal assessment.
Journal of Personality, 71, 1179–1205.

Walcott, C. M., & Landau, S. (2004). The relation between disinhibition and emotion regulation in boys with
attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. Journal of Clinical Child and Adolescent Psychology, 33, 772–
782.

Wranick, J., Barrett, L. F., & Salovey, P. (2007). Intelligent emotion regulation: Is knowledge power? In J. J.
Gross (Ed.), Handbook of emotion regulation (pp. 393–407). New York: Guilford.

Xu, J. (2008). Validation of scores in the Homework Management Scale for high school students.
Educational and Psychological Measurement, 68, 304–324.

Zeidner, M., Roberts, R. D., & Matthews, G. (2002). Can emotional intelligence be schooled? A critical
review. Educational Psychologist, 37, 215–231.

Zeman, J., & Garber, J. (1996). Display rules for anger, sadness, and pain: It depends on who is watching.
Child Development, 67, 957–973.

Zembylas, M. (2007). Emotional ecology: The intersection of emotional knowledge and pedagogical content
knowledge in teaching. Teaching and Teacher Education, 23, 355–367.

Educ Psychol Rev (2010) 22:297–321 321

Copyright of Educational Psychology Review is the property of Springer Science & Business Media B.V. and

its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder’s

express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use.

REVIEW

Educating the Developing Mind:
Towards an Overarching Paradigm

Andreas Demetriou & George Spanoudis &
Antigoni Mouyi

Published online: 13 September 201

1

# The Author(s) 2011. This article is published with open access at Springerlink.com

Abstract This essay first summarizes an overarching theory of cognitive organization and
development. This theory claims that the human mind involves (1) several specialized
structural systems dealing with different domains of relations in the environment, (2) a
central representational capacity system, (3) general inferential processes, and (4)
consciousness. These systems interact dynamically during development so that change

s

in each are related to changes in others. The changes in all systems and the change
mechanisms are described. This theory integrates research and theorizing from cognitive,
developmental, and differential psychology. Based on this theory, a model for education is
proposed that specifies, first, educational priorities for different phases of development
according to the cognitive developmental milestones associated with each phase. The
theory also specifies how education can educate students to (1) construct mental models for
the sake of conceptual change, (2) use their central representational capacity efficiently, (3)
advance analogical and deductive reasoning, (4) learn how to learn, and (5) become critical
and creative thinkers. The theory is offered as an overarching paradigm for the architecture,
the development, and the education of the human mind.

Keywords Assessment . Cognitive development . Conceptual change . Consciousness .

Critical thinking . Education . Intelligence . Learning to learn . Mental models .

Metarepresentation . Reasoning .Working memory

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–66

3

DOI 10.1007/s10648-011-9178-3

A. Demetriou (*) : G. Spanoudis
Department of Psychology, University of Cyprus, P. O. Box 537, 1678 Nicosia, Cyprus
e-mail: ademetriou@ucy.ac.cy

G. Spanoudis
e-mail: spanoud@ucy.ac.cy

A. Mouyi
Center for Educational Research and Evaluation, Nicosia, Cyprus
e-mail: mougi@ucy.ac.cy

In the second half of the twentieth century, developmental and cognitive sciences were solid
enough to start systematically informing educational policy and practice (e.g., Anderson et
al. 2001; Linn and Eylon 2011; Olson 2003; Stearns 2006). However, we still have a long
way to go in the direction of integrating educational science with psychological science in
the way modern engineering is integrated with the natural sciences. For this to be possible,
a comprehensive theory of the developing mind is needed. This is the aim of the theory
proposed here. This theory integrates findings and concepts from the psychology of
intelligence, the psychology of cognitive development, and cognitive psychology. If
properly integrated, these traditions can lead to a unified theory of learning, understanding,
and development.

The integration attempted here initiates from our earlier empirical (Demetriou 2002;
Demetriou et al. 1993, 2008; Demetriou and Kazi 2001, 2006) and theoretical work on
cognitive development (Demetriou 1998, 2004, Demetriou et al. 2010a, b; Kargopoulos
and Demetriou 1998; Demetriou and Raftopoulos 1999) and is expanded to include current
research and theorizing in all three fields mentioned above. The integration of the theory
with research and theory on educational implications and applications is new and is first
presented here. This theory specifies the following:

1. The architecture of the mind. That is, the general cognitive structures and processes
underlying understanding, problem solving, and learning across different domains and
also the processes underlying the operation of specialized domains of thought. Thus,
the theory goes beyond theories which emphasize the importance of different domains
but underestimate the role of central processes and constrains, such as Gardner’s theory
(1983), and theories which stress the importance of central processes but minimize the
role of domain-specific processes, such as Jensen’s (1998) or Piaget’s (1970) theory.

2. The development of the mind. That is, the condition of the various general and domain-
specific structures and processes during development, their dynamic relations, and the
mechanisms which are responsible for change and learning in different phases of
development. The theory integrates research and theory on developmental changes in
representational and information processing capacity (e.g., Case 1985; Halford 1993;
Kail 1991; Pascal-Leone 1988) with research and theory on the development of
thought and consciousness (Demetriou 2000; Demetriou et al. 1993, 2002; Demetriou
and Kazi 2001, 2006) to provide an integrated model explicating the development of
self-aware individuals that have a strong sense of unity, a personal style of functioning,
and a differentiated profile of competence and modus operanti.

3. Guidelines as to how educators can use this understanding of mind and its development
to organize instructional content across diverse subject matter and to create teaching
methods that are appropriate for different individuals at different phases of learning.
Obviously, social understanding and interaction are extremely important for education
both as a frame where cognitive processes operate and as a major goal which aspires to
educate citizens well adapted in their cultural and social environment. Moreover,
emotion and motivation are also important dimensions of cognitive functioning and
education. Although this essay focuses on cognitive processes, for the sake of
completeness, we also briefly integrate into the theory considerations about
motivational and emotional processe

s.

This essay is addressed to three groups of scholars: cognitive and developmental
scientists who would be interested to see how the cognitive, the differential, and the
developmental traditions are integrated into a unified theory of the developing mind and

602 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

explore the implications of this theory for education; education policy makers and planners
who need to tune important aspects of educational policy, such as setting major priorities for
the successive phases of education and curriculum development, with current thought and
knowledge in the cognitive and the learning sciences; and, finally, this essay is addressed to
classroom teachers who would like to inform their teaching practices and decisions in
relation to the actual possibilities and weaknesses of their students.

Thus, this essay includes two parts. The first part presents the psychological theory.
Specifically, it outlines the architecture of the human mind, its development, and the
dynamic relations between the various structures and processes in real and developmental
time. The second part presents the implications of the theory for educatio

n.

The Architecture and Development of the Mind

Research and theory in psychometric (Carroll 1993; Demetriou 2002; Gustafsson and
Undheim 1996; Hunt 2011; Jensen 1998), cognitive (Hunt 2002), and developmental
psychology (Case 1992; Demetriou 1998; Demetriou et al. 1993, 2002, 2008, 2010a, b)
converge on the assumption that the human mind is a universe of processes that are
organized into systems which carry out different tasks during real-time problem solving.
The systems are: (1) specialized structural systems (SSS). These constitute a set of mental
processes that interface with several environmental domains. (2) The representational
capacity system. This system is responsible for meeting representational and information
processing needs activated by the environment-oriented SSS or the systems to be discussed
below. (3) The inference system is responsible for connecting and integrating information
and operations vis-à-vis the goal of the moment. (4) The consciousness system is
responsible for monitoring, controlling, and regulating the processes activated at a given
moment. Figure 1 highlights this architecture. Below, we first outline the architecture and
development of each of the systems. Then we discuss the interrelations between the various
systems in real and developmental time and present relevant evidence.

SSS

Essentials and

categories

Space and time

Numbers and quantities

Interactions and causes

Agents and persons

Language

Core operators

Mental operations; rules

and principles;

Concepts, knowledge

systems, and beliefs

REPRESENTATIO
NAL CAPACITY

WM, STSS

INFERENCE
Induction
Deduction
Abduction

CONSCIOUSNESS

Self-monitoring

Self-representation

Self-regulation

Reflection and

recursion

Executive
Control

Episodic
Integration

Conceptual
Change

Mental
Models Problem Solving Self-awareness

Meta-
Representation

Fig. 1 General architecture of the human mind

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 603

The architecture of the specialized structural systems

Each SSS includes processes that specialize in processing information coming from
different domains of the environment. Five SSS were specified by research: (1) Categorical
thought deals with similarity–difference relations. Forming hierarchies of interrelated
concepts about class relationships is an example of the domain of this system. (2)
Quantitative thought deals with quantitative variations and relations in the environment.
Mathematical concepts and operations are examples of the domain of this system. (3)
Causal thought deals with cause−effect relations. Representations about causal relations
between objects and persons and operations related to causality, such as trial-and-error or
isolation of variables, that enable one to decipher causal relations belong to this system. (4)
Spatial thought deals with orientation in space and the imaginal−iconic representation of the
environment. Mental maps of places or mental images of familiar persons and objects and
operations on them, such as mental rotation, belong to this system. (5) Social thought deals
with social relationships and interactions. The mechanisms for monitoring non-verbal
communication or skills for dealing with social interactions belong to this system. These
SSS were identified by a number of studies involving participants from preschool age to
adulthood. Specifically, in factorial studies, all five SSS emerge as separate factors (Case et
al. 2001; Demetriou and Bakracevic 2009; Demetriou and Efklides 1989; Demetriou et al.
1993, 2002; Demetriou and Kazi 2001, 2006; Shayer et al. 1988). Moreover, together with
common inferential processes, each of the SSS involves SSS-specific logical process for
problem solving (Kargopoulos and Demetriou 1998).

SSS involve (1) core processes, (2) mental operations, and (3) knowledge and beliefs.
Table 1 summarizes the main features of the SSS. Core processes are pre-adapted and
foundational inferential traps that impose their ready-made meaning on the aspect of the
environment concerned. For example, categorical perception on the basis of shape,
perception of the numerocity of small sets, depth perception in space, perception of
causality, and human face preference in the social domain are examples of core process in
each SSS. Core processes are fundamental because they ground each domain into its
respective environmental realm and they form the background for the development of the
other levels of the SSS, namely, mental operations and knowledge and beliefs (Carey 2009;
Cosmides and Tooby 1994; Gelman and Brenneman 1994). Mental operations arise as a
result of the dynamic interactions between domain-specific core processes and the
informational structures of the environment. The systems of operations within each domain
emerge by differentiation of the core processes when these do not satisfy the understanding
and problem-solving needs of the moment. Examples of mental operations are sorting in the
categorical SSS, numerical operations in the quantitative SSS, hypothesis testing in the
causal SSS, mental rotation in the spatial SSS, or emotion regulation in the social SSS.
Knowledge and beliefs accumulate over the years as a result of the interactions of each SSS
with the respective domain, such as time reading, money values, and rules underlying
everyday transactions in the quantitative system, mental images and mental maps in the
spatial system, social attributions in the social domain, etc. (Carey 1985, 2009; Demetriou
et al. 1992, 1993, 2002).

The development of the SSS

Table 2 summarizes the development of the SSS. With development, each of the domains
moves along three dimensions: complexity, abstraction, and flexibility. As children grow
older, they become able to deal with increasingly more representations simultaneously. This

604 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

permits them to consider alternative representations of a situation or alternative actions
upon these representations or the situation itself. Increasing complexity necessitates the
elaboration of relations between representations, which results into abstractions which are
subsequently encoded and processed as representations, thereby leading to increasingly
abstract systems of representations. Envisaging representations from the point of each other
and focusing on their relations gradually frees thought from the specifics of particular
representations, rendering it increasingly fluid and flexible (Table 3).

Thus, development of the SSS is a continuous process of emergence, differentiation, and
integration of new representations. However, this is one aspect of development. Some
changes at some periods alter how the world is viewed by the developing person. These
changes may be taken as milestones that are important both from the point of view of the
person’s own subjective experience and for his or her relations with the world.

Table 1 Three levels of organization of each specialized system of thought and reasoning

Domain Core processes Mental operations Knowledge and beliefs

Categorical Perception according to
perceptual similarity;
inductive inferences
based on similarity–
difference relations

Specification of the semantic
and logical relations between
properties, classification;
transformation of properties
into mental objects; construction
of conceptual systems

Conceptions and
misconceptions
about the world

Quantitative Subitization; counting,
pointing, bringing in,
removing, sharing

Monitoring, reconstruction,
execution and control of
quantitative transformations,
the four arithmetic operations

Factual knowledge about
the quantitative aspects of
the world, algebraic and
statistical inference rules

Spatial Perception of size, depth,
and orientation;
formation of
mental images

Mental rotation, image
integration, image
reconstruction, location
and direction tracking
and reckoning

Stored mental images, mental
maps, and scripts about
objects, locations, scenes,
or layouts maintained
in the mind

Causal Perception of overt
and covert causal
relations

Trial-and-error; combinatorial
operations; hypothesis
formation;
systematic experimentation
(isolation of variables);
model construction

Knowledge, attributions and
understanding of the
reasons underlying physical
and social events and the
dynamic aspects of the world

Social Recognition of
conspecifics,
recognition of
emotionally laden
facial expressions

Deciphering the mental
and emotional states
and intentions of others;
organization of actions
accordingly; imitation;
decentering and taking
the other’s perspective

System of social attributions
about other persons, their
culture and their society

Reasoning Use of the grammatical
and syntactical
structures of language

Identifying truth in information;
abstraction of information
in goal-relevant ways;
differentiation of the
contextual from the formal
elements; elimination of
biases from inferential process;
securing validity of inference

Knowledge about grammar,
syntax and logical
reasoning; metalogical
knowledge about nature
and justifiability of logical
inferences; metacognitive
awareness, knowledge,
and control of inferential
processes

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 605

T
ab

le

2

M
od

al

ch
ar
ac
te
ri
st
ic
s
of

th
e

sp
ec
ia
liz
ed

do
m
ai
ns

w
ith

de
ve
lo
pm

en
t

A
ge

C
la
ss

N
um

be
r

C
au
se

S
pa
ce

In
fe
re
nc
e

C
on

sc
io
us
ne
ss

0–
2

S
im

ila
ri
ty
-b
as
ed

pe
rc
ep
tu
al

ca
te
go
ri
es

S
ub
iti
za
tio

n-
ba
se
d
an
d

ap
pr
ox
im

at
e
nu
m
be
rs

E
pi
so
di
c
ev
en
t

se
qu
en
ce
s

H
ol
is
tic

sc
en
e

im

ag
es

S
im
ila
ri
ty
-b
as
ed

in
du

ct
iv
e

in
fe
re
nc
e

an
d
ev
en
t
ba
se
d

pr
ob
ab
ili
st
ic

in
fe
re
nc
e

B
od

y–
ac
tio

n
co
ns
ci
ou

sn
es
s

3–

4

P
ro
to
-c
at
eg
or
ie
s

P
ro
to
-q
ua
nt
ita
tiv

e

sc
he
m
es

P
ro
to
-c
au
sa
l

sc
he
m
es

G
lo
ba
l
im

ag
es

P
ri
m
ar
y

re
as
on

in
g

D
if
fe
re
nt
ia
tio

n

be
tw
ee
n

m
od
al
iti
es

(p
er
ce
pt

io
n

vs
.

kn

ow
in
g)

5–

6

S
in
gl
e
cr
ite
ri
on

cl
as
se
s

C
oo

rd
in

at
io
n

of

pr
ot
o-
qu
an
tit
at
iv
e

sc
he
m
es
C
oo
rd
in
at
io
n
of

pr
ot
o-
ca
us
al

sc
he
m
es

S
in
gl
e

sp
at
ia
l

di
m
en
si
on
s

or

op

er
at
io
ns

P
er
m
is
si
on

ru
le
s

U
nd
er
st
an
di
ng

th
e
st
re
am

of
co
ns
ci
ou
sn
es
s
an
d

in
ne
r
sp
ee
ch

7–
8

L
og

ic
al

m
ul
tip

lic
at
io
n

N
um

be
r

co
nc
ep
ts

an
d
qu
an
tit
at
iv
e

di
m
en
si
on
s

E
xp
er
ie
nc
e-
ba
se
d

pr
ot
o-

th
eo
ri
es

“F
lu
en
t”

m
en
ta
l

im
ag
er
y

E
xp
lic
it
in
fe
re
nc
e

G
ra
sp

of
th
e
co
ns
tr
uc
tiv

e
na
tu
re

of
th
ou

gh
t

9–
1

0

L
og
ic
al
m
ul
tip
lic
at
io
n

on
un
fa
m
ili
ar

co
nt
ex
t

C
on

st
ru
ct
io
n
of

si
m
pl
e
m
at
h

re
la
tio

ns
(e
.g
.,

a
+

5

=
8)

Te
st
ab
le

th
eo
ri
es

in
ac
tio

n
R
ep
re
se
nt
at
io
n
of

co
m
pl
ex

re
al
iti
es

L
og
ic
al

ne
ce
ss
ity

D
if
fe
re
nt
ia
tio
n
be
tw
ee
n

co
gn
i

ti
ve

fu
nc
tio

ns
(m

em

or
y

vs
.
at
te
nt
io

n)

11
–1
2

F
le
xi
bl
e
lo
gi
ca
l

m
ul
tip
lic
at
io
n

P
ro
po

rt
io
na
l
re
as
on
in
g.

C
oo
rd
in
at
io
n
of

sy
m
bo
lic

st
ru
ct
ur
es

S
up

po
si
tio

ns
,

is
ol
at
io
n
of

va
ri
ab
le
s

Im
ag
in
at
io
n
of

th
e
no

n
re
al

L
og
ic
al

va
lid

ity
of

pr
op
os
iti
on
s

D
if
fe
re
nt
ia
tio
n
be
tw
ee
n

cl
ea
rl
y

di
ff
er
en
t

do
m
ai
ns

(s
pa
ce

vs
.
m
at
hs
)

13
–1
4

S
tr
at
eg
ic

cl
as
si
fi
ca
tio

n
in
cl
ud

in
g
re
le
va
nt

ir
re
le
va
nt

in
fo
rm

at
io
n

A
lg
eb
ra
ic

re
as
on
in
g

ba
se
d
on

m
ut
ua
lly

sp
ec
if
ie
d
sy
m
bo

l
sy
st
em

s

H
yp

ot
he
si
s
dr
iv
en

ex
pe
ri
m
en
ta
tio

n
O
ri
gi
na
lit
y
in

m
en
ta
l
im

ag
es
G
ra
sp

of
fo
rm

al
re
la
tio

ns
A
w
ar
en
es
s
of

sp
ec
ia
liz
ed

m
en
ta
l
op

er
at
io
ns
w
ith

in
a
do

m
ai
n

15
–1
6

M
ul
til
ev
el

cl
as
se
s.

N
et
w
or
ks

of
cl
as
si
fi
ca
tio

n

cr
ite
ri
a

G
en
er
al
iz
ed

co
nc
ep
t

of
va
ri
ab
le

In
te
gr
at
ed

th
eo
ry

bu
ild

in
g

P
er
so
na
l
im

ag
in
al

w
or
ld
s,
ae
st
he
tic

cr
ite
ri
a

R
ea
so
ni
ng

on
re
as
on
in
g

In
te
gr
at
ed
co
gn
iti
ve
th
eo
ry

606 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

T
ab

le
3

S
um

m
ar
y
of

pr
in
ci
pl
es

fo
r
ed
uc
at
in
g
th
e
de
ve
lo
pi
ng

m
in
d

W
or
ki
ng

m
em

or
y

C
on
ce
pt
ua
l
ch
an
ge

R
ea
so
ni
ng

L
ea
rn
in
g
to

le
ar
n

C
ri
tic
al

th
in
ki
ng

M
on

ito
r
on

go
in
g

pe
rf
or
m
an
ce
.

M
od

el
te
m
pl
at
es

fo
r
th
e
ba
si
c

m
en
ta
l
op
er
at
io
ns

in
ea
ch

S
S
S
,

su
ch

as
cl
as
si
fi
ca
tio

n
(c
at
eg
or
ic
al
),
m
od

el
s

fo
r
ca
us
al

re
la
tio

ns
(c
au
sa
lit
y)
,
fo
r
m
en
ta
l

nu
m
be
r
lin

e
or

ar
ith

m
et
ic

op
er
at
io
ns

(q
ua
nt
ity

),
fo
r

vi
su
al
iz
at
io

n
or

sp
at
ia
l

co
or
di
na
te
s
(s
pa
ce
).

D
ec
on

te
xt
ua
liz
e
in
fe
re
nc
e
by

in
te
rp
re
tin

g
th
e

pr
em

is
es

an
al
yt
ic
al
ly

an
d
di
ff
er
en
tia
tin

g
th
em

fr
om

th
ei
r
co
nt
en
t
an
d
th
e

co
nc
lu
si
on

(u
se

ke
y
el
em

en
ts

su
ch

as
th
e
co
nn

ec
tiv

es
).

D
if
fe
re
nt
ia
te

be
tw
ee
n:

Id
en
tif
y
ce
nt
ra
l
is
su
es

an
d
as
su
m
pt
io
ns
.

K
ee
p
tr
ac
k
of

th
e
fl
ow

of
in
fo
rm

at
io
n
an
d
up

da
te

(r
eh
ea
rs
e)

it
fo
r
as

lo
ng

as
ne
ed
ed
.

M
od
el
te
m
pl
at
es

fo
r
co
nc
ep
tu
al

ch
an
ge
,
su
ch

as
br
id
gi
ng
,

fu
si
ng
,
di
ff
er
en
tia
tin

g,
an
d
el
im

in
at
in
g
C
on
ce
pt
s.

D
if
fe
re
nt
ia
te

be
tw
ee
n

ty
pe

s
of

re
as
on
in
g
(e
.g
.,
de
du
ct
iv
e
vs
.

in
du

ct
iv
e)

an
d
lo
gi
ca
l
fo
rm

s
(e
.g
.,
di
sj
un

ct
io
n,

co
nj
un

ct
io
n,

et
c.
).

L
ea
rn
in
g
as

(1
)

kn
ow

le
dg

e

ac
qu

is
iti
on

,
(2
)
co
nc
ep
tu
al

ch
an
ge
,
an
d
(3
)
ac
qu
is
iti
on

of
pr
ob
le
m

so
lv
in
g
sk
ill
s.

E
nv
is
ag
e
al
te
rn
at
iv
e
m
od

el
s

an
d
as
so
ci
at
e
ea
ch

w
ith

su
pp
or
tiv

e
ev
id
en
ce
,
lo
gi
ca
l

su
bs
ta
nt
ia
tio

n,
co
nc
ep
tu
al

or
be
lie
f
sy
st
em

s.
M
an
ag
e
m
or
e
th
an

on
e

ta
sk

si
m
ul
ta
ne
ou
sl
y

(e
.g
.,
by

al
te
rn
at
in
g

be
tw
ee
n
bl
oc
ks

or
ty
pe
s

of
in
fo
rm

at
io
n,

if
ne
ed
ed
).

M
et
ar
ep
re
se
nt

ne
w

co
nc
ep
ts

an
d
sy
m
bo
liz
e.

D
if
fe
re
nt
ia
te

be
tw
ee
n

lo
gi
ca
lly

ne
ce
ss
ar
y
an
d
lik

el
y
co
nc
lu
si
on
s.

R
es
is
t
ce
rt
ai
nt
y
ab
ou
t
co
nc
lu
si
on
s

un
le
ss

re
al
ly

lo
gi
ca
lly

ne
ce
ss
ar
y.

K
no
w
le
dg
e
(1
)
ac
qu
is
iti
on

(o
bs
er
va
tio

n,
as
ki
ng
,

re
ad
in
g,

et
c.
),
(2
)
re
te
nt
io
n

(r
eh
ea
rs
al
,
as
so
ci
at
io
n)
,
an
d

(3
)
ev
al
ua
tio

n
(e
xp
er
im

en
t,

lo
gi
ca
l
va
lid

at
io
n)
.

St
ay

op
en
-m

in
de
d,
sk
ep
tic
al

an
d
qu
es
tio

ni
ng
.T

ol
er
at
e

am
bi
gu
ity
.P

ro
te
ct

ju
dg

m
en
t

fr
om

yo
ur

ow
n
bi
as
es
.

B
in
d
ite
m
s
ac
co
rd
in
g
to

ty
pe

an
d
tim

e
of

pr
es
en
ta
tio

n.

S
po
t
co
nt
ra
di
ct
io
ns

be
tw
ee
n
pr
em
is
es

an
d
co
nc
lu
si
on

s
an
d
co
ns
tr
uc
t
al
te
rn
at
iv
e
m
od

el
s

fo
r
pr
em

is
es
an
d
co
nc
lu
si
on
s.

M
en
ta
l
op

er
at
io
ns
in
ea
ch

S
S
S
as

kn
ow
le
dg

e
ex
tr
ac
tio

n
m
ec
ha
ni
sm

s.

A
do
pt

an
in
fo
rm

ed
pr
ef
er
en
ce

ba
se
d
on

ev
id
en
ce
,
ar
gu

m
en
t,

an
d
pe
rs
pe
ct
iv
e.

In
hi
bi
t
ir
re
le
va
nt

te
m
s.

W
ith

ho
ld

ju
dg

m
en
t
un

til
to

ex
am

in
e
al
l
re
la
tio

ns
in
vo
lv
ed
.

P

ro
ce

ss
in

g
de
m
an
ds

of
(1
)
m
en
ta
l
op

er
at
io
ns

(e
.g
.,
m
en
ta
l
ro
ta
tio

n
vs
.
ar
ith

m
et
ic

op
er
at
io
ns
),
(2
)

re
pr
es
en
ta
tio

ns
(e
.g
.,
im

ag
es
vs
.

nu
m
be
rs
),
(3
)
in
fo
rm

at
io
n

ty
pe
,
or
ga
ni
za
tio

n
or

vo
lu
m
e.

R
ev
is
e
ap
pr
oa
ch

or
pe
rs
pe
ct
iv
e,

if
ap
pr
op
ri
at
e.

M
et
ar
ep
re
se
nt
ne
w

re
as
on
in
g
pa
tte
rn
s

an
d
sy
m
bo
liz
e.

A
ct
io
ns

re
gu
la
tin

g
pr
oc
es
si
ng

(e
.g
.,
st
im

ul
us

en
ga
ge
m
en
t,

ig
no
ri
ng

di
st
ra
ct
or
s,
re
fl
ec
tio

n)

R
ef
le
ct

on
th
e
na
tu
re

of
kn

ow
le
dg

e
(w

ha
t
is
tr
ut
h,

w
ha
t
is
ev
id
en
ce
,
w
ha
t
is

re
as
on

or
ca
us
e,

w
ha
t
is
m
or
e

im
po
rt
an
t,
re
as
on

or
ev
id
en
ce
).

O
ne
’s
ow

n
st
re
ng
th
s
an
d

w
ea
kn
es
se
s
in

di
ff
er
en
t
do
m
ai
ns

an
d
pr
oc
es
se
s.

M
et
ar
ep
re
se
nt
ne
w

de
ci
si
on
s

an
d
sy
m
bo
liz
e.

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 607

Emergence of representations

All systems are present at birth. There is strong evidence that the core processes of
categorical (Butterworth 1998; Carey 2009), quantitative (Dehaene 1997; Piazza 2010;
Sloutsky and Fisher 2011), causal (Haun et al. 2010; Keil 2011), spatial (Haun et al. 2010),
and social (Molenbergs et al. 2009; Rizzolatti and Craighero 2004) thought are present in
the first weeks of life. The engagement of core operators with their respective aspects of the
environment generates representations that provide the behavioral or mental analogues of
the basic laws of physics, biology, and psychology. These enable the infant to interact with
increasing efficiency with physical objects, animals, and other humans. Therefore, the
development in the first 2 years of life suggests, contrary to Piaget, that this period of life,
far from being simply sensorimotor, is richly conceptual (Carey 2009; Gelman 2003;
Mandler 2004). According to Carey (2009), the major domains of infant cognitive
development are objects (the physical world), agency (the psychological world), and
number. These are envelop categories which include concepts and categories about the
identity, the spatial, and the causal relations of objects; the active self which acts as a causal
agent for objects and other persons generating self-knowledge and knowledge about others
(agency); and the quantitative relations between objects and beings.

However, thought at this period is constrained by limited concentration and floating
attention that is easily attracted by sensory variation in the environment. These limitations,
together with the lack of language, hinder drastically the integration of experience. As a
result, the infant’s conceptual world is incoherent and content- and context-bound. It needs
to be stressed, however, that what appears as a limitation from one point of view is an
advantage from another. Specifically, floating attention and ensuing superficial processing
of information about the world enables the infant to generate a rich pool of experience and
knowledge about the world at a period of universal inexperience and ignorance that will be
pruned, elaborated, differentiated, and integrated in the following phases.

Differentiation of representations

The gradual emergence of language during the second year of life brings representations as
such into focus so that they can be reflected upon and elaborated. The explosion of the
“why” questions at this phase (Brown 1968; McCune 2008) is indicative of a reorientation
of the infants’ knowing priorities from the world itself to their own representations about
the world. In a sense, the infants appear to realize, though not explicitly, that it is time to
work on the representations already constructed.

Two-year-olds represent, but they cannot metarepresent. DeLoache and Burns (1994)
showed a dramatic developmental change between 24 and 30 months of age in this regard.
Specifically, 24-month-olds could not use a picture to retrieve an object whereas 30-month-olds
could. Therefore, in the middle of the third year of life, children start to be able to view pictures
as representations of current reality. In line with these findings, Dalke (1998) showed
that 3-year-olds have some ability to make and use maps as a guide for their actions (e.g.,
where to look for an object). Huttenlocher et al. (2008) showed that this ability develops
gradually from less (e.g., placing an object in actual place following a map at the age of
3 years) to more complex tasks (e.g., retrieving an object following a map at the age of
4 years).

Thus, at about the age of 3–4 years, children start to differentiate representations from
each other and from the objects they represent. For example, they can see a toy car as a
representation of real cars and as an object in itself. DeLoache (1995, 2000) called this

608 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

emerging differentiation of representations dual representation. Dual representations enable
children to reflect on and operate explicitly on representations as tokens of reality. Thus,
they represent a major milestone in development because they open the way for the
intentional use of symbols and symbol systems, such as writing.

As a result, preschoolers start to build concepts in the various environment-oriented
domains. There must be at least two representations to conceive of a class (e.g., “fruit”), a
quantity (e.g., more or less), a cause−effect relation, or a spatial relation (e.g., “above”; Case
1985; Demetriou 1998; Fischer 1980). Moreover, they start to understand the multifaceted
nature of the world, as indicated by their understanding of the appearance−reality distinction,
because they can represent an object in its present and in an earlier condition (Flavell et al.
1995), and their acquisition of a theory of mind, because they can understand that the same
thing can be represented differently by two persons (Wellman 1990).

Integration of representations

Another important milestone comes at about the age of 7–8 years. With practice and
increasing awareness about representations (Demetriou and Kazi 2006; Flavell et al. 1995),
children begin to realize that representations constrain each other. For example, words in a
sentence constrain how other words will be used and sentences constrain the meaning of the
sentences to follow (Brown 1968; McCune 2008). This is the beginning of the grasp of
logical necessity (Miller et al. 2000; Moshman 1990, 1994). With logical necessity as a
reference criterion for the validity of the relations between representations, children can
start to systematically build alternative mental models for concepts and relations (Ricco
2010) and to represent the underlying relations between concepts or mental operations. For
example, in the domain of categorical thought, systematic classification starts to be possible
because a criterion may be preselected and applied in order to specify the identity of objects
and their similarity relations (e.g., color, shape, etc.). This criterion may be used to classify
things on the basis of having or not having the attributes specified by the criterion. Thus,
the logical relation of class inclusion can be grasped, indicating that semantic networks are
bound by obligatory relations.

Conditional representations

A third milestone comes at the beginning of adolescence, when adolescents become able to
construct conditional representations. Conditional representations enable the thinker to view
systems of representations from the point of view of each other. Technically speaking, they
can integrate at least two dimensions with at least two levels each (e.g., they grasp
proportionality and they formulate alternative hypotheses which they can test with
especially designed experiments).

The meaning of each component representation in conditional representations emerges
from the relations of this representation with all other representations in the system.
Consistency and coherence in these representations gears on the relations between the
relations involved rather than in the relations between representations and the objects
represented (e.g., in the proportional relation 2/4:3/x, x is derived from the relations rather
than from the numbers themselves). Logical necessity is fully established at this phase and
acquires its full use as a gauge of the fit of each representation or variation in the system. In
the previous phase, logical necessity is a tool for evaluating consistency within concepts.
Now it is a tool for guiding the exploration of the relations across concepts. Therefore,
empirically invalid or counterintuitive representations are acceptable if they can be derived

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 609

from the logical relations involved. As a result, each representation in a system of
conditional representations is a point of variation, given the relations involved. Thus, new
representations can be introduced and the implications examined from the point of view of
all other representations, given the relations that bind them. This results in the
transformation of thought from being descriptive and organizational to suppositional and
foresighted (Demetriou et al. 1993; Demetriou and Kyriakides 2006).

Differentiation of thought from knowledge

The next milestone comes at about the end of secondary school or in the early 20s. Young
adults differentiate (1) between thought processes vis-à-vis their use for different aspects of
knowledge acquisition and problem solving and (2) between thought, as a system of
processing, and knowledge, as information about the world. That is, they understand that
different knowledge or belief systems governing the operation of social and cultural groups
are constrained by rules related to the values of these groups rather than from cognitive or
inferential processes as such. It is understood that conclusions or interpretations may vary
across systems even when the same inferential or thought processes are used. Therefore,
knowledge or belief systems may be compared, integrated, or used separately according to
goals or needs (Demetriou and Bakracevic 2009; Demetriou and Kazi 2001, 2006;
Reynolds et al. 2005; Schaie 1996).

These changes interweave with the social life of the adult which requires the flexibility that is
necessary to consider and negotiate the multiple perspectives that are usually associated with
different individuals, groups, or institutions adults normally interact with. Thus, on the one
hand, relativistic and dialectical thinking (Basseches 1984; King and Kitchener 1994; Riegel
1973) emerges from the flexibility that is associated with the multiplicity of perspectives that
the social environment forces onto the adult. On the other hand, the handling of this very
reality is conducive to the elaboration of a principled approach to problems and situations that
would give coherence to meaning making, life choices, and orientations. That is, despite the
recognition of the relativity of perspectives or belief systems, and the respect that may be
accorded to each, persons have to choose one of them and structure and justify their actions or
choices accordingly. Eventually, judgment and decision making may be elevated to wisdom.
Wisdom generates integrative and balanced judgments and decisions that are rational rather
than logical, oriented to the future rather than the present, and to the best interests of many
rather than one or few persons (Baltes and Staudinger 2000; Demetriou and Bakracevic 2009;
Stanovich 2009).

The architecture of the representational capacity system

Mental functioning at any moment occurs under the constraints of the available
representational capacity. Representational capacity is the maximum amount of information
chunks or units (e.g., mental images, words, and numbers) and mental operations (e.g.,
mental rotation, grammatical rules, and arithmetic operations) that the mind can efficiently
activate simultaneously. Representational capacity is the work space of the mind. That is, it
is the mental field where information is operated upon, analyzed, connected, combined, and
transformed for the sake of interpretation, inference drawing, reaching conclusions,
formation of action plans, and problem solving (Baddeley 1990; Cowan 2010; Engel de
Abreu et al. 2010). In psychometric studies, representational capacity always emerges as a
separate block of factors (Demetriou et al. 1993, 2002, 2005, 2008; Engel de Abreu et al.
2010; Hornung et al. 2011; Unsworth and Spillers 2010). The content of this field is

610 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

transparent to awareness and thus amenable to interaction with the processes of control and
consciousness, to be described below.

There is general agreement that representational capacity involves (1) modality-specific
components that hold information for a very short period of time, (2) a short-term storage
that holds a part of information that is available in modality-specific components for further
processing according to a goal, and (3) an executive component that involves processes
applied on the information represented in short-term storage for the sake of the goal
(Baddeley 1990; Hornung et al. 2011; Tillman et al. 2008). Wood (2011) showed that there
are storage systems for spatiotemporal information related to the movement of objects in
space, for object identity information related to the retention of the characteristics of
objects, and for snapshot information related to the location of objects. It is highly
interesting that these storage systems relate closely to the core processes in the SSS. The
first system is related to spatiotemporal processes for tracking objects in the spatial SSS,
and it may also be related to the core processes for representing causal relations. The
second is clearly related to the construction of concepts in the categorical SSS. The third
system is an important component of the spatial SSS, and it may be related to subitization
processes in the quantitative system.

Therefore, the architecture of specialized storage capacity reflects the strong domain-
specific origin of mental processing. The integrative role of this space that can put together
information coming either from the same or from different specialized domains is reflected
in Baddeley’s (2000) episodic buffer; it emanates from the interaction between
representational capacity and both inferential and control processes, to be discussed below.

The development of representational capacity

The developmental profile of working memory varies in different research paradigms
depending upon the combination of components measured. However, there is general
agreement on the following:

First, iconic memory capacity approaches adult levels very early in life. Specifically,
Blaser and Kaldy (2010) showed that iconic memory has a capacity of five objects by the
age of 6 months, which is very close to the six-object capacity of adults. Moreover, Zosh et
al. (2011) showed that 9-month-old infants, like adults, can represent in working memory
up to three ensembles of information, each of which contains summary information for
many more than three objects at a time. The processing of information within the ensembles
is possible after the age of 2–3 years according to the development patterns summarized
below. This finding is important in suggesting that infants do posses the visual memory
space that is required for the operation of the core processes discussed above. Thus,
representations seem to emerge from the contents of sensory memory and held as
undifferentiated blocks. Their differentiation begins during the third year of life, and it
opens the way for the elaboration of their relations as discussed above.

Second, until the end of the second year of life, children can focus on and represent in
short-term storage only one unit of the information held in iconic storage. This implies that
some control of attention becomes possible around the age of 2 years that enables infants to
focus processing on a small part of the content of their sensory storage. From the age of
2 years onwards, when executive operations are held to a minimum, short-term storage
capacity is two, three, and four units at the age of 3–4, 5–6, and 10–11 years, respectively
(Case 1985; Cowan 2010; Halford 1993; Demetriou et al. 1993, 2002). Pascual-Leone
(1970) maintained that it continues to increase until it reaches the limit of seven units at the
age of 15–17 years.

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 611

Third, at any age, the exact capacity of working memory varies considerably depending
upon the volume of executive processes needed. Overall, Barouillet et al. (2011) showed
that the short-term memory span for a given type of information is a function of the total
storage possible for this type of information and the cognitive load induced by processing,
which is itself related to the time devoted to them: With increasing load, the storage
decreases. However, executive processes do not only have a cost for storage capacity. They
are also beneficial to it. Camos and Barrouillet (2011) showed that 7-year-old children were
able to shift attention from processing in one set of information to rehearse the information
in another set that they would have to recall later and come back again. Six-year-olds did
not demonstrate this flexibility. This is due to the fact that between the ages 7 and 9 years,
children acquire the cognitive flexibility needed to switch attention between different
cognitive processes, such as rehearsal needed for the maintenance of information in short-
term storage and the processing of information. Davidson et al. (2006) showed that
flexibility in switching between goals during processing develops throughout adolescence
and that adults are more adept than adolescents to regulate their rate of processing to ensure
accuracy. Therefore, with development, accurate self-monitoring and flexible executive
control processes compensate for the mental space required to represent them.

Fourth, the type of information and related experience are also important. For example,
in the spatial domain, the capacity varies from three units at the age of 6 years to five units
at the age of 12 years. In the domain of mathematical thought, it varies from about two to
about four units in the same age period. Demetriou et al. (2005) showed that extensive
training in a particular modality, such as the massive training that is required to learn the
Chinese logographic system of reading and writing, may have a highly beneficial effect on
visuospatial working memory that does not generalize to phonological storage or to the
representation of executive operations. This study showed that the capacity of visuospatial
short-term storage of Chinese children exceeded the corresponding capacity of Greek
children by about three units of information throughout the period from 8 to 14 years of
age, whereas their working memory for words and numbers was the same.

In conclusion, these variations reflect the fact that different types of information, related
to the various SSS, put different demands on the available mental resources. The executive
operations required for control and processing compete with SSS-specific information for
available resources. Training and familiarity facilitate short-term storage because they
diminish the demands of executive processes due to the utilization of the accumulated
experience to novel situations and to the automatization of procedures through practice.
These findings are consistent with the findings of Ericsson and Kintsch (1995) which
suggest that the effective use of working memory depends upon the coding schemes
available in long-term memory. For instance, the inclusive concept “energy,” once in
working memory, alerts a large number of component concepts in long-term memory if the
person has these schemas. Working memory is largely a holding system for pointers to
schemas in long-term memory. Therefore, developmental differences between adult experts
and younger persons may be explained, partly, by the fact that adults posses more efficient
and informationally richer schemas than younger persons do. Moreover, the differences in
developmental rates across domains may, in part, be explained by the relative differences in
the experience in different domains. Education is of course crucial in this regard.

The architecture of the inference system

Inference involves processes enabling the transfer of meaning from one representation to
another. Transfer normally occurs on the basis of properties which are present in both the

612 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

initial (or source) representation and the target representation. In inference, these common
properties are used as an intermediary between the two representations such that properties
characterizing the initial representation (apart from their common properties) are also
ascribed to the target representation.

There are several types of reasoning. Inductive, analogical, (Holland et al. (1986), and
deductive reasoning (Moshman 1994; Ricco 2010; Rips 1994) are the three types that have
been studied extensively in both logic and psychology. Several studies have shown that
these types of reasoning are based on different inferential mechanisms (Heit and Rotello
2010), and they emerge as separate constructs in structural models of reasoning. Moreover,
they are related to each other by common inferential processes which emerge as a separate
level in hierarchical models of cognition that involves several of the SSS summarized above
(Demetriou and Efklides 1994; Demetriou et al. 2008, 2010a, b; Mouyi 2008).

The development of inference

Induction and analogy

Students of infancy converge on the assumption that the core systems allow generalizations that
enable infants to interpret new encounters on the basis of their similarity with available concepts
(Carey 2009; Gelman 2003; Mandler 2004). Thus, inductive inference is part of the very
organization and functioning of the mental architecture of the mind probably from birth.

Initially, inference is based on perceptual similarity, which is the most readily apparent
form of similarity. In fact, the very methods used to study infants’ cognitive abilities, such
as the habituation method (decline of interest in a sequence of stimuli, such as a particular
shape or image of an object, when they are similar to each other; see Butterworth 1998),
assume that infants are sensitive to “same” and “different” relations (Tyrrel et al. 1991).
This ability enables infants to construct categories by extracting general characteristics from
overlapping perceptual features that appear across objects and by selectively attending to
relevant features while ignoring irrelevant ones based on available core concepts that direct
feature search and interpretation (Sloutsky and Fisher 2011).

In a similar vein, analogical reasoning transfers meaning on the basis of relations between
objects or concepts rather than individual objects or representations. Wagner et al. (1981)
showed that infants as young as 9 months of age preferred to look at an arrow pointing up
when hearing an assenting tone and at an arrow pointing down when hearing a descending
tone. In line with this evidence, recent studies of intuitive statistics showed that 8-month-olds
make first-order generalizations about the composition of a population on the basis of
exemplars of this population (Xu and Garcia 2008). Impressive as it may sound, 9-month-old
infants seem able for second-order generalizations or metageneralizations. Dewar and Xu
(2010) showed that 9-month-olds were able to abstract a first-order relation and thus capture
the pattern underlying the characteristics of objects in different boxes (i.e., all round or all
square or all triangular) and generalize to a second-order relation that generates expectations
about new objects (i.e., all objects in a box are similar in shape, so if there is a starlike object
in a new box all objects in this box must be starlike). Gelman and Coley (1990) showed that
30-month-old children use perceptual similarity as a basis for drawing inductive inferences.
Interestingly, Williamson et al. (2010) have recently shown that 3-year-olds can abstract and
imitate rules underlying behavior, in addition to imitating the behaviors they observe as such.

Mouyi (2008) (Demetriou et al. 2010a, b) showed, in a very detailed study of reasoning,
that inductive reasoning develops in three main levels from the age of 6 to the age of 12 years.
At the first level, children can identify patterns and formulate generalizations on the basis of a

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 613

single dimension or relation. However, at this level, the child’s experiences and knowledge may
bias inference to conclusions inconsistent with the generalizations suggested by patterns.
Therefore, control processes are not yet powerful enough to protect inference from privileged
knowledge and experiences. At the second level, inductive reasoning can handle hidden or
implied relations that require from the thinker to combine information present to the senses
with knowledge stored in long-term memory. Mapping out the implied relation requires that
non-relevant information in the premises or in long-term memory are inhibited. Moreover,
inductive inferences based on the syntactical components of verbal premises can be drawn.
Negative premises may be manipulated at this level. Thus, it is suggested that control
processes at this level are powerful enough to direct the inferential process on target and
protect representational capacity from overloading with irrelevant information. Finally, at the
third level, inductive reasoning is based on theoretical supposition. That is, possibilities can
be specified in advance and information in the premises is analyzed in reference to them. As a
result, multiple parameters and relations can be simultaneously considered and manipulated.
Generalizations can therefore be extracted from the relations and elevated to mental models.

Later on, analogical reasoning can structure third- or higher-order relationships involving
abstract relations such as “parents are to family what teachers are to education,” which
require a rich culturally relevant knowledge (Demetriou and Kyriakides 2006).

From probabilistic to deductive reasoning

There are signs of pure reasoning that is based on probabilistic inference very early in life.
Téglás et al. (2011) showed that infants can make correct predictions about the future state
of an event (e.g., which of several objects will exit an opening) based on several parameters
(such as each objects’ frequency in the set, distance from the opening, and time available).
According to Téglás et al. (2011), 1-year-old infants have “the ability to generate physically
plausible candidates for future world states, consistent with the observed present” (p. 1058).

However impressive this finding is, there is nowadays general agreement that deductive
reasoning as such does not appear before representations are differentiated from each other and
expressed into natural language. Moreover, in all models of reasoning, the development of
deductive reasoning is associated with awareness of cognitive processes and cognitive control.
These enable the thinker to search systematically for and envisage the relations suggested by the
premises of an argument and their relations; resist belief biases, if the content of the premises
and their relations do not converge to the same conclusion; and gear on the reasoning process so
that the logical conclusion overrides the conclusion suggested by knowledge and belief biases.

This interpretation is consistent with the dual-process theory of reasoning and reasoning
development. “Dual-process accounts postulate the operation of a central domain general
system (often termed “System 2”), characterized as “analytic” and relatively content free in
nature, and a peripheral domain-specific system (often termed “System 1”), which is more
“heuristic, modular and highly context dependent” (Ricco and Overton 2011), and hence
drawing upon the SSS-specific core processes. In terms of the theory proposed here, system
2 reasoning emerges from the operation of system 1 reasoning through awareness of
similarities and differences between heuristic processes and the construction of representa-
tions that unify and represent these heuristic processes. That is, the key components of
reasoning are gradually decoupled from their context, fused with each other, and
metarepresented as logically necessary reasoning schemes which are gradually
interconnected with each other as reasoning rules. This is the system 2 algorithmic
reasoning (Ricco 2010; Overton 2010). In line with this model, Heit and Rotello (2010)
showed that inductive reasoning is based on a more automatic mechanism that uses

614 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

similarity as a basis for inferring a relation and deductive reasoning is based on analytical
processes that draw on validity. Moreover, they showed that even deductive reasoning may
shift to similarity for inference drawing, if forced to operate under time constraints that do
not allow the activation of the analytical processes required for the evaluation of validity.

Moshman’s (1990, 1994) and Mouyi’s (2008) levels of deductive reasoning development
explicate the gradual emergence of system 2 reasoning from system 1 reasoning. During the
preschool years, children reason logically using inferences, but they do not think about
inference. Children correctly use most of the connectives and conditionals involved in
inference schemas, but they have no understanding of the inferential process and are not
aware that the premises constrain the conclusion (e.g., “there is a cat; there is an apple; so,
there is a cat and an apple).

This awareness appears for the first time by about the age of 5 or 6 years, when
inference becomes explicit but logic is implicit. Children at this stage are explicitly aware of
the inferential process that connects premises and conclusions into coherent arguments and
are sensitive to logical necessity. Thus, they can grasp modus ponens arguments (e.g., “if
there is a either a cow or a goat then there is a pear; there is a cow; therefore there is a
pear”). However, logic as such is still implicit in their reasoning and does not function as a
frame to explicitly guide reasoning. Thus, they fail on problems in which the logical form
of the argument must be explicitly differentiated from its content (e.g., birds fly; elephants
are birds; therefore, elephants fly). At the end of this phase, at the age of about 9–10 years,
children can deal with modus tollens inferences (e.g., “if there is a cow there is an apple;
there is no cow; therefore, there is no apple”). In comparison to modus ponens, modus
tollens requires a model construction process which takes the modus ponens argument as a
basis and then constructs alternative models which are compared with each other. Overall,
reasoning at this level involves more steps and more operations (Johnson-Laird 2001).

At 11–12 years of age, logic becomes explicit, but metalogic is still implicit.
Preadolescents understand that “an argument is valid if, regardless of the empirical truth
of its premises and conclusions, has a logical form such that, if the premises were true, the
conclusion would have to be true as well” (Moshman 1990, p. 212). Thus, at this phase,
they can deal with simple denying the antecedent and affirming the consequent fallacies (e.g.,
“if there is a cow there is a pear; there is a pear; we cannot be sure if there is a cow”). Fallacies
place high demands on the system. Many alternatives must be retrieved from memory and
processed (Barrouillet et al. 2000). Moreover, the very nature of the outcome of processing is
peculiar because the conclusion is that no conclusion can be reached. Therefore, the thinker at
this level must accept that not all arguments are determinate and thus uncertainty may be part
of the reasoning process itself. Finally, at the stage of explicit metalogic, adolescents can
function as theorists of reasoning. As a result, they can specify all implications of an
argument, determinate or indeterminate, based on all possible logical forms involved.

The architecture of the consciousness system

Humans usually operate under conditions of uncertainty caused by novel, conflicting, or
incongruent information relative to a specific goal. Thus, to meet their goals, humans must
be able to focus attention and process goal-relevant information efficiently, filtering out
goal-irrelevant information, and assemble action. The core mechanisms of consciousness
involve monitoring processes ensuring (1) awareness of the current goal, (2) an evaluative
function which regularly compares the present state with the goal, and (3) a control function
which registers discrepancies between the present state and the goal and suggests corrective
actions (Demetriou 2000). The core mechanisms of self-regulation and executive control

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 615

involve a process of (1) selection by inhibition (Leslie et al. 2004) and (2) a regulatory
process that enables the individual to adjust mental or overt action to goals (Gibson and
Pick 2003; Zelazo et al. 2003, 2005). It needs to be noted, however, that not all cognitive
functioning ever reaches consciousness. In fact, consciousness is needed when no ready-made
or automated schemes of action are available.

Thus, the input to consciousness is information arising from the functioning of all other
systems. It operates as one of the main mechanisms for the integration of otherwise separate
and independent mental constructs or brain networks (Baars 2002) and, eventually, for
cognitive and behavioral control and flexibility (Cleeremans 2008). In its integrative role,
consciousness is the seat of subjectivity and self because it unites one’s own known past,
present, and intended future in a single line of experience. Thus, at one and the same time,
it is a causal factor for one’s own action and a source of attributions and explanations for the
action of other persons (Printz 2003).

Metarepresentation is the generative aspect of consciousness. That is, metarepresentation
is an ideoplastic process that looks for, encodes, and typifies similarities between mental
experiences (past or present) and between representations to enhance understanding and
problem-solving efficiency. As a result of this process, new mental operations, new higher-
order rules integrating different operations, and new representations to stand for these new
operations and rules are created. We will explicate this process below in reference to the
development of reasoning.

Also, metarepresentation gradually builds maps of mental functions which are
continuously updated. These maps are generally accurate representations of the actual
organization of cognitive processes in the domains mentioned above. Research suggests
that the SSS, the components of working memory, and inference emerge from self-
evaluations of performance on tasks as they emerge when we analyze actual performance
on the same tasks. This finding indicates that working on the tasks generates experiences
that reflect performance on them and that these experiences are recorded and recovered as
such (Demetriou and Efklides 1989; Demetriou et al. 1993; Demetriou and Kazi 2001,
2006). Thus, when needed, these maps may be called upon to guide problem solving and
understanding (Demetriou and Bakracevic 2009). Admittedly, there are large individual
differences in the accuracy of these maps (Demetriou and Kazi 2001).

Metarepresentation

reminds one of Piaget’s (2001) reflective abstraction and Karmiloff-Smith’s (1992)
representational redescription. Like reflective abstraction, it abstracts general patterns from
different mental functions or activities. Like representational redescription, it reorganizes
them at a higher, more efficient representational level.

It is important to note that consciousness is also the link between mind and personality
(Demetriou et al. 2003). On the one hand, it integrates self-representations and self-
evaluations of cognitive processes with personality dispositions underlying attitudes to
learning and problem solving, such as being organized and systematic or adventurous and
open to experience. On the other hand, it brings personality and emotional influences into
cognitive functioning through the moderating effects that the emotional outcomes of
cognitive processing, such as failure-based avoidance, may have. This integrative role is
expressed through a personal constant that moderates mental, emotional, and personality
experiences and dispositions. “That is, the individual adopts a particular attitude to his or
her performance and ability which is consistently applied across different domains. This
constant is used to adjust any signals regarding his or her functioning to a level which is
personally characteristic” (Demetriou and Kazi 2001, p. 117). This mechanism explains
why individuals are consistently accurate, lenient, or strict in their self-evaluations.
Interestingly, this mechanism is recognizable by others, such as parents and teachers, and it

616 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

moderates even interpersonal interactions. We will see below that this mechanism must be
of concern to education because it influences the students’ choices and attitudes to learning.

The development of consciousness

All aspects of consciousness develop systematically from birth to maturity (Demetriou and
Kazi 2001, 2006; Demetriou and Bakracevic 2009; Zelazo 2004), improving the quality of
subjective experience, the resolution and refinement of mental processing, and executive
control (Baars and Franklin 2003). In the first year of life, there is body–action
consciousness that involves implicit awareness of one’s own actions and bodily sensations
(Kopp 2011). This is minimal consciousness that is intertwined with the emergence of
representations from the core operators of infancy. In the second year of life, body–action
consciousness is embedded into self-consciousness that involves self-recognition in the
mirror and self-reference through language or pointing. This enables infants to consider
their capabilities vis-à-vis a situation and to execute means–end actions. Using the
dimensional change card sort task, Zelazo et al. (2003) showed that 2-year-old children can
operate with only a single rule (e.g., “If it is red, it goes here”). In the third year of life,
infants become capable of reflective consciousness. As a result, by the age of 3, children
can operate with a contrastive relation (e.g., “If it is red, it goes here; if it is blue, it goes
here”), which indicates reflective planning of action. At the age of 5 years, children can
shift from one rule to another rule. According to Zelazo and Frye (1998), to be able to shift
from the one rule to the other, the child must be able to integrate the rules into a higher-
order rule that specifies when each of the two lower-order rules is to be used and be aware
of them. For instance, in the example of dimensional change card sort described above, this
rule might be as follows: “If we were playing color, then if it is red it goes here and if it is
blue it goes here, but if we were playing shape, then if it is a red car it goes here and if it is
a blue flower it goes here”).

The development of awareness of cognitive processes is more complicated and lags
behind awareness of action and executive control. Preschoolers understand that thinking is
an internal mental activity referring to objects or events (Flavell et al. 1995, 1997).
Moreover, they are aware of their own actions and can intentionally modify them as they
evolve (Demetriou 2000). One of our studies (Demetriou and Kazi 2006, study 1) examined
whether 3- to 7-year-old children are aware of the cognitive processes involved in tasks
addressed to three domains of reasoning—that is, spatial, quantitative, and categorical
reasoning. Specifically, children were asked to judge whether pairs of persons doing various
tasks with various objects (e.g., both classifying or both counting or the one classifying and
the other counting) were thinking of the same thing. We found that at the age of 3–5 years,
the majority of children based their judgements on the perceptual similarity of the objects
involved rather than on what the persons were required to do with them. At the age of
6 years, children were able to recognize that pairs of tasks belonging to a different domain
require different mental processes. However, it was only at the age of 7 years that the
majority of children were able to recognize the mental operation of pairs of tasks where the
same operation, such as classification or counting, was applied on different objects.

In another study, 11- to 17-year-old adolescents were examined by tasks addressed to
four domains: quantitative reasoning, causal reasoning, social reasoning, and drawing. In
addition to solving the various tasks addressed to each of these domains, participants were
asked to evaluate their performance on the tasks and to answer a general self-representation
inventory probing their general self-concept related to each of the domains (e.g., “I can
easily derive the mathematical rules behind many specific examples”, “To find out which of

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 617

my guesses is correct, I proceed to methodically consider each time only the things my
guess proposes”, “I understand easily the intentions of others before they express them”). It
was found that the relation of self-evaluation with reasoning was very weak at the age of
11 years and then steadily and systematically increased until it became very strong (0.97) at
the age of 15–16 years. Interestingly, the relation of self-representation and reasoning did
follow the same trend, but with a considerable age lag. It was very low until the age of 13, it
rose to moderate at the age of 14 (0.34), and to high (0.55) at the age of 15–16 years. In a
similar fashion, the relation of self-representation and self-evaluation was very low until the
age of 13 years, rose to moderate at the age of 14 (−0.30), and to very high at the age of 15–
16 years (−0.80). The negative relation here implies that with increasing accuracy in self-
evaluations, adolescents become more conservative and strict in their self-representation
(Demetriou and Kazi 2001, 2006, study 2).

The findings above suggest that self-awareness and self-evaluation of cognitive
processes develop in a recycling fashion, which involves four major cycles: 0–2, 3–7, 8–12,
and 13–18 years of age. Within each phase of development, self-evaluation and self-awareness
concerning the representations and relevant mental operations are very low and inaccurate at the
beginning, and they tend to increase and to become more accurate with development until the
end of the phase. Entering the next phase resets both of them to an initial low level, from where
they gradually take off again with the development of the new phase-specific problem-solving
operations and skills. This pattern of change indicates that increasing self-awareness of
cognitive processes becomes part of the very functioning of the processes concerned. We will
try to show below that this intertwining of cognitive functioning with awareness about the
cognitive processes enables the explicit representation of cognitive processes and their
restructuring into new, more inclusive, and flexible representations. This is metarepresentation.
There is accruing evidence that self-awareness and executive control are part of the learning
process and that the efficiency of learning changes in development because of changes in these
processes (Kuhn and Pease 2006).

Structural, Functional, and Developmental Relations Between Systems and Processes

In this section, we will review research that substantiates the architecture of mind proposed
by this theory and reveals the dynamic relations between the various structures and
processes during development. The emphasis of presentation is to highlight the relative
importance of domain-general and domain-specific processes in intellectual development.

Relations among structures and functions

Figure 2 shows an idealized model that translates the architecture of mind proposed here
into the conventions of structural equations modeling of cognitive abilities. It can be seen
that this model includes four blocks of factors that correspond to the four major systems of
processes involved in the proposed architecture of mind. The relations between systems are
also represented. Specifically, the model involves factors that stand for (1) different mental
operations within each of the five SSS, one factor for each SSS, and a higher-order factor
that stands for general problem-solving ability; (2) different components of working
memory and executive control and a higher-order factor that stands for representational
capacity; (3) self-evaluations and self-representations of different mental operations within
each of the five SSS, one factor for general self-concept in concern to each SSS, one factor
for metarepresentation, and a higher-order factor that stands for general self-awareness and

618 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

self-representation; and (4) factors that stand for different processes within inductive and
deductive reasoning and a general factor that stands for general inferential processes. No
study has examined this model in its entirety. However, several studies substantiated models
which are close approximations to this model (Demetriou and Efklides 1989; Demetriou et
al. 1993, 2008; Demetriou and Kazi 2001, 2006).

This is an all-encompassing model that incorporates several local architectures suggested
by psychometric research. A broad and generally accepted architecture in psychometric
psychology stipulates that cognitive abilities are hierarchically organized, including narrow
domain-specific abilities at a first level of organization; several broad abilities at a second
level, which frame and coordinate the functioning of the narrow abilities; and, finally,
general intelligence (called psychometric g in psychometric literature), underlying
everything, at a third level (Carroll 1993; Deary 2000; Gustafsson and Undheim 1996;
Hunt 2011; Jensen 1998; Johnson et al. 2008).

There is wide variation between studies concerning the number and identity of the
narrow abilities, depending upon the particular focus of different studies. In terms of the
present architecture, core processes and mental operations within each of the various
domains reside at this level of narrow abilities. However, there is wide agreement as to the
number and identity of systems at the second level. All studies speak about six to eight
abilities. There is complete agreement about the domains of spatial, quantitative, verbal,
and social thought. These are recognized in all traditions of research. The domains of
categorical and causal thought are not directly mentioned in psychometric research, but they
are both associated with inferential processes residing at higher levels, that is, either with
fluid intelligence or g itself. Case et al. (2001) showed that all domains of thought noted
above can be abstracted from performance on developmental tasks and tasks drawn from
the WISC-R intelligence test.

General intelligence has been variably defined. For Spearman (1904) and Carroll (1993),
g is mainly defined by inferential processes underlying reasoning and problem solving
activated by the tasks. In fact, content-free tests of g, such as the Raven’s Progressive
Matrices, are considered to tap these processes. Thus, these scholars believe that g is mainly

Categorical

Quantitative

Causal

Spatial

Social

Ca2

Ca1

Q2

Q1

C2

C1

Sp1

Sp2

So1

So2

GSpecialized Structural
Systems

Inference System

Ind1 Ind2 Ded1 Ded2

Inductive
Reasoning

Deductive
Reasoning

Representational
Capacity

Working
Memory

Short-Term
Storage

STSS1 STSS2 WM1 WM 2

Consciousness System

SM2

SM1

SE2

SE1

SRp2

SRp1

SRg1

SRg2

MRp1

MRp2

Self Evaluation

Self Monitoring

Self Regulation

Meta-
Representation

Self
Representation

Fig. 2 Idealized structural model for the architecture of mind proposed by the theory

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 619

located in the inference panel and the domain-inference arrow in Fig. 1. Cattell (1963)
differentiated between fluid (Gf) and crystallized intelligence (Gc) and suggested that fluid
intelligence refers to general reasoning processes used to solve unfamiliar problems and that
crystallized intelligence refers to skills and knowledge acquired as a result of the operation
of fluid intelligence and have been crystallized for future use. Gustafsson (1984) showed
that g and Gf are psychometrically identical.

With the years, Gf was gradually identified with working memory and executive control.
Kyllonen and Christal (1990) showed, in a highly cited study, that working memory
determines the condition of psychometric g almost completely. Several authors, following
this line of research, showed that working memory and executive control largely determine
the condition of Gf and psychometric g (Blair 2006; Colom et al. 2004; Conway et al.
2002; Kyllonen and Christal 1990; Miller and Vernon 1992). In fact, Engel de Abreu et al.
(2010) showed that cognitive control mechanisms, rather than storage as such, are the
source of the link between working memory and fluid intelligence.

In terms of the present theory, psychometric g may be seen from two different but
interdependent perspectives. On the one hand, g is based on the two main mediatory
constructs which serve the representation (representational capacity) and the integration
(inference) of domain-specific representations. On the other hand, it depends on the quality
of communication between all of the systems and functions involved at a given moment:
how efficiently and accurately the SSS activated deliver their content for representation to
the representational system, how precise and flexible is executive control until attaining a
goal, how relevant are the models constructed and considered in the process, how timely
and efficient was inference when making decisions, and how accurately and stably are new
mental units metarepresented for future use (Demetriou and Kazi 2001, 2006; Demetriou et
al. 2008). Therefore, g also resides in the arrows standing for the flow of interactions
between constructs, in addition to the constructs themselves.

Interestingly, van der Maas et al. (2006) have shown that the correlations between
abilities underlying g can be accounted for by the dynamic reciprocal relations between
cognitive processes rather than by an underlying common cognitive or biological process or
capacity. The present architecture lends support to this dynamical conception of g and
shows how the various processes are interrelated. Also, it is consistent with Jensen’s (1998)
conception of g. Jensen suggested that g is a biological rather than a psychological or
behavioral construct, which reflects the ability of the brain itself to process information. In
agreement with this conception of g, there is extensive research showing that speed of
processing is a background factor that is related to psychometric g and that the strength of
relation increases with the complexity of the tasks used to measure it (Demetriou et al.
2002, 2008, 2010a, b; Salthouse 2000; Sheppard and Vernon 2008) or with the effort
required to learn a new task (Hunt 2011).

The present theory seems to resolve the long-standing debate over the nature of
intelligence as either general or domain-specific (Carroll 1993; Jensen 1998; Gardner, 1983;
Hirschfeld and Gelman 1994). The theory suggests that it is both. On the one hand, there
are systems and processes which participate in every directed mental action, although their
combination and effect may vary with task-related experience and development. On the
other hand, there are domain-specific processes whose domain specificity varies according
to the level of organization of mind concerned. Core processes in each of the SSS are
strictly domain-specific because each is activated by a specific pattern of perceptual
information which has the affordance to activate it. Mental operations within the SSS are by
and large domain-specific. However, they are subject to development and training, and
coordination between SSS. Knowledge and beliefs are object- or theme-oriented and

620 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

therefore span over different SSS by definition (Demetriou et al. 1992, 1993; Efklides et al.
1992; Kargopoulos and Demetriou 1998). For example, a theory about motion in physics
involves a causal component about the factors that can cause motion, a quantitative
component that shows how causes and effects are associated with each other, and a visual–
spatial model that represents these relations. Obviously, knowledge and beliefs in our theory
correspond with Gc in psychometric theory. The various networks of concepts at this level are
usually domain-specific in their meaning and in how they are represented, but they can be
interconnected and translated to each other by the general processes specified by the theory.

An important aspect of domain specificity is representational specificity. Specifically,
each SSS is symbolically biased to symbolic systems that are the most conducive to the
representation of its own elements, properties, and relations (Demetriou 1988; Demetriou
and Raftopoulos 1999). For example, quantitative thought is biased to mathematical
notation, mental images are more appropriate than numbers or words to represent object
characteristics and relations in space, and words are more appropriate than numbers or
images to represent syntactical and propositional logical relations. Symbol systems can be
translated into one another, but some information may be lost at the expense of other
information when shifting from one system to the other.

Functional loops of the mind

From the point of view of education, which is the focus of this essay, it is important to stress
that the architecture above is a dynamic system where all components are in constant
interaction and interdependence. As indicated above, the power of this architecture with
regard to problem solving and learning relies in the flow of effects from system to system
rather than in the systems themselves. Several loops of processing may be discerned in this
architecture. We will focus on two here, namely, the problem-solving and the self-awareness
and control loops.

As shown in Fig. 1, the problem-solving loop is primarily activated by environmental
stimuli and is therefore activated from within any of the domains. Once activated, it must
first build a representation of the problem goal or the concept to be understood in the
representational space (i.e., the SSS–STSS channel). An execution plan must then be
planned which includes the necessary intervening steps or sub-goals to be made until
attaining the final goal. These steps must be evaluated for their relevance to the goal,
rejected or inhibited if not relevant, and ordered in an executable plan if relevant. Thus,
planning for problem solving requires mental modeling of alternative or complementary
paths to the final goal. Inference is needed at any moment in the planning process in order
to judge the relevance or usefulness of sub-goals and the value of alternative sub-goal
sequences. Duncan’s (2010) conception of g is relevant. According to Duncan, g is
equivalent to the ability to build cognitive enclosures. That is, sequences of small mental
action plans are embedded into each other such that each one delivers its product to the next
one in the sequence until a final goal is attained. The longer the sequence or the more
integrated detours it involves, the more powerful g is. This very process requires, one way
or another, the construction of alternative mental models until a satisfactory representation
or solution will be reached (i.e., the representational capacity–inference channel).

In the process of checking and selecting between representations and models, the second
loop is needed. The self-awareness and control loop guides and protects the problem-
solving loop through executive control (i.e., representational capacity–consciousness
channel), it feeds it in with already available knowledge and experience by calling upon
the mental maps available, and it provides evaluations that can guide decision making about

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 621

the value of processing so that it may be carried on or interrupted any time. In short, this
loop directs the application of reasoning and inference for the selection of the best problem-
solving practices available under the circumstances (i.e., the problem-solving–domains
channel). In this process, evaluations and comparisons between mental experiences and
models may be reduced to other representations and principles that can be used in the future
more efficiently and flexibly. This is the process of metarepresentation, which generates
new representations and inferential possibilities to be called upon in the future.

Dynamic developmental relations

This architecture of mind implies that the various systems are dynamically and reciprocally
related during development. The neo-Piagetians were the first to demonstrate empirically
that increases in working memory capacity are systematically related to the development of
thought (Pascual-Leone 1970; Case 1985, 1992; Demetriou et al. 1993, 2002, 2010a, b;
Halford 1993; Halford et al. 1998; Mouyi 2008). This relation was ascribed to increasing
processing efficiency as indicated by the speed of processing (Case 1985; Demetriou et al.
2002, 2008; Kail 1991, 1993) and control of attention (Demetriou et al. 2008; Posner and
Rothbart 2006). Indeed, a large number of studies show that reaction times decrease with
age in all domains and in all types of efficiency functions, reflecting the improvement in
communication between the modules and levels of the mind (Case 1985; Case et al. 1996;
Demetriou et al. 2002, 2008).

Mouyi (2008) (see also Demetriou et al. 2010a, b) demonstrated clearly these relations.
She showed (see Fig. 3) that with increasing developmental level of inductive and
deductive reasoning, reaction times to speed and control of processing tasks decreased and
working memory capacity increased. In line with these findings, Barouillet and colleagues
(Barrouillet et al. 2000, 2008; Markovits and Barrouillet 2002) showed that the
development of deductive reasoning is a process of constructing mental models for real
problems based on the content and knowledge available. The complexity of the models
depends on working memory because more capacity allows for more models and more
pointers from them to information in long-term memory. Awareness of this process and the
ensuing executive control are important because they direct the final selection of models
vis-à-vis the goal and their encoding into logical forms to be recalled later on.

1000

1100

1200

1300

1400

1500

1600

1700

1800

1900

2000

Reasoning Level

C
o

n
tr

o
l o

f
P

ro
ce
ss
in

g
M

ea
n

R
T

(
m

s)

Inductive Reasoning

Deductive Reasoning

0
1
2
3
4
5
6

7

Level 1 Level 2 Level 3 Level 1 Level 2 Level 3

Reasoning Level

W
o

rk
in

g
M

em
o

ry
E

xe
cu

ti
ve

F
u

n
ct

io
n

s
C

ap
ac

it
y

Inductive Reasoning
Deductive Reasoning

Fig. 3 Developmental levels of reasoning as a function of control of processing and working memory

622 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

The architecture proposed here also predicts that acquisition of cognitive self-monitoring
and self-regulation skills influences representational capacity and processing efficiency. In
line with this prediction, Camos and Barrouillet (2011) showed that acquisition of rehearsal
strategies between 7 and 9 years of age is related to an enhanced short-term storage
capacity. Moreover, recent research suggests that increasing awareness of cognitive
processes is related to a shift of reasoning from procedural (system 1) to algorithmic
reasoning (system 2). Handley et al. (2004) found that the ability to decontextualize
thinking from beliefs is associated with inhibitory control. Also, Klaczynski and Daniel
(2005) showed that performance on modus ponens tasks is largely automatic and
experientially based unless distractors are present, which must be processed and removed.
However, consciously controlled analytic processing predominates on the uncertain forms
(affirming the consequent and denying the antecedent) and on modus tollens, which require
a suppositional attitude and systematic reflection on the meaning of the premises.

Also, there is clear empirical evidence about the interrelations of the processes in the
problem-solving loop. English (1998) showed that deductive reasoning is important in the
proper streaming of the sequence of mental models needed to represent the goal, assemble
the steps needed to reach the goal, and choose actions. Albert and Steinberg (2011) showed
that impulse control, which is part of executive inhibition, enables the thinker to design a
full solution plan from the beginning, and working memory capacity is important for the
representation of the plan, especially in problems requiring many steps to be solved.
Interestingly, English (1998) showed that the relational complexity of the models needed is
more important than their sheer number.

According to Halford et al. (1998), the relational complexity of concepts depends on the
number of entities or the number of dimensions that are involved in the concept. For
example, to understand any comparison between two entities (e.g., “larger than,” “better
than”), one must be able to represent two entities and one relation between them. To
understand a transitive relation, one must be able to represent at least three entities (e.g.,
objects A, B, and C) and two relations (e.g., A is taller than B; C is shorter than B).
Numerical analogies, or algebraic relations such as 7þ x ¼ 9þ y, require four entities and
two relations. Higher representational capacity allows models of higher relational
complexity. In turn, this provides the possibility of more holistic representations to be
conceived and longer or alternative solution sequences to be envisaged and evaluated
against each other. As a result, problem solving can shift from isolated and thus frequently
inefficient problem-solving strategies to more inclusive and thus more flexible strategies
(Fireman 1996).

Our analysis about the role of consciousness in intellectual development is consistent
with Zelazo’s (2004) model of the levels of consciousness. According to this model, the
depth of reflection associated with each successive level of consciousness (LOC), first, adds
depth “to subjective experience because more details can be integrated into the experience
before the contents of consciousness are replaced by new environmental stimulation.
Second, each added degree of reflection (higher LOC) causes information to be processed
at a deeper, less superficial level, which increases the likelihood of retrieval. Third, higher
LOCs allow for the formulation and use of more complex knowledge structures” (p. 16). In
conclusion, it is clear that increasing processing efficiency enables the individual to keep in
focus more representations, work out their relations more exhaustively, and metarepresent
new representations that may be created for possible future use. Self-awareness and ensuing
control of reasoning processes improves efficiency in handling available representational
resources and help the developing mind raise mental models and processes into logical
argument forms.

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 623

In line with these findings, dynamic systems modeling suggests that changes in higher-
level processes positively influence more fundamental processes (Case and Okamoto 1996;
Demetriou et al. 2002). This is understandable from the point of view of modern dynamic
systems theory. Higher-level structures, when attained, affect the operation of lower-level
structures (Whitherington 2011). When attained, walking, as a complex coordination of the
movements of the whole body, beneficially affects the movements of the feet, the hands,
and the head. The mental number line, when consolidated, facilitates the specification of
relations between different pairs of numbers (Dehaene 1997).

Mechanisms of cognitive development

Why does the mind improve over time? As noted above, the improvement of mind
originates from the changes in any of its component processes. Specifically, novelty in
the environment necessitates changes in the SSS. Novelty abounds in the environment.
For one thing, the physical and social environment is rarely stable. By definition,
changes in the environment beyond the control of the individual necessitate learning
that would transform new information into knowledge available for future use. For
another, education is the institution for cognitive change par excellence. As an
institution of learning, school is a burden with the responsibility to tune individual
cognitive development with past and current culture and civilization so that
individuals acquire age-appropriate knowledge, understanding, and problem-solving
strategies and skills.

According to the theory, all systems are interdependent. Dealing with new information or
problems activates both the problem-solving and the self-awareness and control loops
mentioned above. Thus, given the particularities of the new information or problems vis-à-
vis the related old ones, such as differences in the volume and kind of information that must
be handled, novelty activates a chain of changes affecting the executive processes needed
for efficient use of representational capacity, the inferential and the mental modeling
processes needed to associate the old with the new and reach a conclusion, and the
metarepresentational processes needed to lift successful intuitions and discoveries into
knowledge and skills usable in the future.

Jensen (1998) argued that g is learning. Provided that the two loops proposed here are
complementary components of g, Jensen’s position may be read both ways: Learning is g as
well. In other words, educating these loops can expand and refine both domain-specific
mental operations and domain-general reasoning patterns that can bring to bear on the
solution of new problems in the domains themselves.

How does the mind change? It is reminded that reflective consciousness is the mental
tool for the activation and refreshing, comparison, variation, and mapping representations
onto each other in order to deal with novelty and that metarepresentation is the mechanism
that generates new representations out of these processes. This is a domain-general
mechanism of cognitive development that feeds in a continuously expanding language of
thought (LOT) (Fodor 1976). LOT includes a metalanguage of thought (i.e., general
instructions about how to deal with new knowledge and new problems) and processes for
the transfer of meaning from extant knowledge to new information (i.e., induction and
analogy) and for the evaluation and selection of interpretations and decisions (i.e.,
deduction). Of course, this ever emergent process is always shaped under the constraints of
the mental resources available and the motivation to think. The motivation to think requires
schools that value and foster reflection and mental constructions. Below, we explicate this
mechanism.

624 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

From inference and problem solving to the language of thought

The core operators in the various domains are inferential systems that mediate between
perception and particular organism-important patterns of information in the environment
from very early in development. New mental operations and concepts develop through
modification and differentiation of the core operators. Modification is possible when the
patterns of information are close enough to the prototypical pattern to activate the operator
but they also deviate from it so that a process of mapping is activated that will transfer
meaning from the operator to the new information structure. The fundamental mechanism
that permits mapping variations onto the core operators or onto each other is a three-step
process: (1) abstraction, which extracts features from the input that can be fed into (2) a
similarity search process and (3) induction that maps the abstracted feature onto the core
prototype or another object and establishes a relation. Analogical reasoning is nothing more
than an extra step in the inductive process that establishes a relation between two (or more)
relations. According to Gentner (1989) and Gentner and Rattermann (1991), this extra step
is a relational shift that enables children to shift processing from the similarity between
objects based on an abstracted common feature to a similarity between relations (pairs of
objects having the same relation). Similarity search and inductive decisions may be
saturated by statistical regularities that may enable the infant to make predictions of the
future state of events based on their present patterning (Téglás et al. 2011).

Some scholars (Braine 1990; Rosch 1975) do claim that there are pre-logical inferential
schemas very early in development that are antecedent to deductive reasoning forms proper
(such as joint iteration, which refers to repetitions of actions and is the basis for conjunction
or permission rules or contingencies, e.g., “if you do this I will do that,” which function as
the basis for implication). However, these become deductive schemes only when integrated
across occasions and contexts and used as such. Therefore, a universal LOT is gradually
constructed when similar patterns of thought across domains are compared and reduced to
inference schemes that are explicitly represented in or tagged with natural language
elements (e.g., “and … and” “or … or”, “if … then”) or other types of representations (e.g.,
mathematical notation) and are intentionally activated independently of context or domain.

A good sign of the state of this general LOT is logical necessity. When attained in
development, it indicates that an inference scheme is lifted from a context-bound processing
frame to an advanced rule-bound organizer of relations. Exceptions, when encountered, are
considered as noise caused by errors in observation rather than as a fault of the inferential
process. Under this condition, the general LOT becomes a powerful tool for checking the
accuracy and precision of information and knowledge, and the consistency between
alternative models or representations of it. Recent research shows that some grasp of logical
necessity is present at the age of 7 years and is fully established by age 10 or 11, when
children realize “that necessary truths are true everywhere, will never change, and cannot be
imagined to be different [and] they refuse to draw a violation of a logical truth” (Miller et
al. 2000).

Metarepresentation

The construction of new mental units is not tantamount to having them available for future
use unless particular measures are taken for their preservation. New mental units are lost if
they are not connected to symbols which will make them available for future use.
Therefore, the endurance of new mental units depends, first, on metarepresentational
awareness of the role and functioning of mental constructs. Second, it also depends on a

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 625

process of symbolic individuation which pairs newly generated ideas with specific symbols
with the aim of making them usable in the future (Demetriou and Raftopoulos 1999). These
symbols, which may be idiosyncratic, such as mental images or personal scripts, or
conventional, such as language or mathematical notation, fix and individuate a new
representation so that it can be recalled, related to other representations, and mentally
processed as needed.

Dual representation is the minimum requirement for using symbols to stand for objects
or ideas. In addition, the thinker must be able to relate the referent with the symbol and
mentally fix this relation so that the symbol always denotes the referent in the future, unless
otherwise decided. Thus, the ability to metarepresent indicates an understanding of the
asymmetric relation between the symbol and the referent (e.g., maps and scale models are
much smaller than the depicted reality and may not include everything that exists in reality),
and it is gradually differentiated according to several important parameters. The
representational capacity available is crucial because it frames the complexity of reality–
symbol relations that can be processed. The characteristics and demands of particular
symbol systems, such as drawings, writing, and numbers, are also important, and they need
to be learned as such if they are to be efficiently used as representations of reality
(Yamagata 2007).

By the age of 4 years, children are adept in understanding the representational nature of
different forms of symbols (Yamagata 2007). In the years following, children become
increasingly flexible in adopting representations for their learning and understanding needs
and for inventing their own representations. For example, research suggests that there are
representational shifts during category learning such that, with learning, representations
change from rules representing a single dimension to similarity-based exemplars integrating
multiple dimensions (Johansen and Palmeri 2002).

Developing metarepresentational competence is increasingly intertwined with
inferential capabilities and increasing mastery of dominant symbol systems, thereby
enhancing the scope and power of the universal LOT. Natural language has a
privileged relation with this emergent universal LOT because it is the main symbol
system that can be used to express and manipulate LOT’s components. One may
imagine many examples of conversations in which the linguistic and the actual
structure of events are in direct correspondence: “If you drop it, it will break into
pieces, you see!” Natural language and the emergent LOT are gradually intertwined
and used to guide and facilitate inference and processing within each of the domains.
In line with this assumption, the permission schema theory (Cheng and Holyoak
1985) posits that these inductions occur in the context of permission rules which specify
the conditions under which a given action can or must occur (Harris and Nunez 1996).

Also, Raffray and Pickering (2010) showed that thinkers first construct meaning-based
representations based on thematic context and then abstract logical form when processing
verbal information that is to be interpreted logically. For example, when processing
sentences including quantifiers, such as “every” and “a,” which require one to specify the
number of actors, objects, and activities, thinkers abstract the universal and the existential
quantifier from meaning-rich representations exemplifying the quantitative relations in the
components of the sentence. Also, Fisher suggests that object naming functions in infancy
as a pointer to similarity between objects, thereby guiding the induction of similarity
relations between objects. Specifically, a common name for objects that do not appear
completely identical directs 3- to 5-year-old infants to look for, represent, and tag
similarities (Fisher 2010). Therefore, the symbolization process partakes in inferential
processes by guiding the transfer of meaning across representations.

626 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

A study by Gauffroy and Barrouillet (2011) lends support to the assumption that
deductive reasoning development evolves from the handling of mental models implement-
ing possibilities to the grasp of the logical relations of truth–falsity implied by the models.
This study showed that basic logical relations are first grasped through the construction of
mental models that translate a proposition (e.g., “if the box is red it contains cherries”) into
all possible compatible and incompatible. Specifically, conjunction, which requires only
one model, is grasped at about 8 years of age (e.g., red box with cherries); the biconditional,
which requires two models, is grasped at about 11 years (e.g., red box with cherries, green
box with apples); the conditional, which requires at least three models, is grasped at about
15 years (e.g., red box with cherries, green box with apples, red box with apples). When
these very same possibilities are expressed in terms of statements that are true or false,
given the initial proposition, each of these relations is grasped 2–3 years later. Obviously,
with experience and ensuing reflection, the set of mental models that are compatible with
the various types of relations are condensed into a universal rule that can be used to fully
generate or evaluate them, if needed. We will show below that this conception of
development is important for education in reasoning and critical thinking.

Developmental trends and individual differences

It is stressed that the theory presented here is not a stage theory of development. In fact, the
complexity of the dynamics between systems and processes in development are such that
there are no hard or easily noticeable boundaries between developmental phases. There
always are precursors before a particular milestone is reached, and its consolidation takes
time. In terms of the dynamic systems theory (van Geert 1994), developmental milestones
operate as pivotal points toward which precursors tend to stabilize and subsequent changes
tend to be organized until the attainment of the next milestone.

Moreover, the general trends in development described above do not imply that the
likelihood of attaining each of the developmental milestones is the same for all individuals
or that development proceeds at the same rate across domains. On the one hand, there is
strong evidence that the frequency of each next milestone decreases systematically in the
general population. Specifically, the first three milestones are closely related with age and
are attainable by most children. However, conditional and principled representations are not
attained by the majority of persons and are very weekly related to age. Shayer and
colleagues (Shayer et al. 1976; Shayer and Wylam 1978) showed that the higher levels of
Piagetian formal operations are not very common in the general population, while
Commons et al. (1982) showed that postformal levels of functioning are very sparse even
among college students (see also Moshman 2011). On the other hand, however, if we
translate our position that a LOT is gradually constructed that expands with development in
psychometric terms, we would predict that g would increase with age. Evidence shows that
this is indeed the case. Pind et al. (2003) showed that scores on the Raven’s Standard
Progressive Matrices increase systematically from the first to the tenth school grade,
suggesting that general cognitive competence increases with age.

However, it is noted that operations and concepts within each of the domains are only
built as a result of experience and interaction with the domain concerned. Therefore, there
may be extensive variations in the rate of development across domains and individuals,
depending upon the person’s engagement with the various domains (Demetriou et al. 1993,
2002, 2010a, b). In fact, Ackerman (1996, 2000) suggests that, with age, general cultural
knowledge and more specialized knowledge related to an individual’s social group and
professional activity acquire prominence over general or fluid intelligence. In terms of the

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 627

present theory, this would imply that the possibilities afforded to an individual by a
particular profile of processing and inferential possibilities must be invested in readily
available domain-specific, socially, and culturally relevant skills and knowledge. With age,
this investment must be increasingly expressed through both a particular domain of
professional activity and more general domains associated with culturally important roles,
such as the role of the parent, the friend, etc.

Towards a Theory of Instruction

Developmental constraints and educational ideals

In this section, we outline the implications for education of the theory summarized here.
The architecture of developing mind outlined here suggests that domain-specific systems
always work together with general mechanisms and processes. All SSS and all general
mechanisms interact variably with the various knowledge domains to be mastered at school.
Therefore, the ideal of education would be to positively influence all of these processes
depending upon (1) developmental time (i.e., the age and developmental condition of the
students), (2) educational time (i.e., the grade and prior educational experience and
knowledge already attained as specified in the curriculum), (3) the particularities of the
subject matter or knowledge domain concerned, and (4) the structural and procedural
aspects of education that are crucial for learning, such as the education of the teachers,
teaching methods, technological support of learning, etc. The following issues will be
discussed below:

1. Schooling–developing mind relations. It is important to specify how mental processes
and capabilities are related to school performance and how schooling impacts mental
processes and capabilities.

2. Tuning educational timing with developmental timing. Education should be guided by
an overall roadmap that takes into account how the developing person relates to the
world at different phases of development. Therefore, the developmental milestones
outlined here must inform educational priorities for different phases of life. In addition,
learning demands at successive school levels and grades must respect the representational
and processing constrains and possibilities of the students’ developmental level.

3. Mental modeling. Students should practice the ability to create and use mental models for
the sake of understanding and problem solving. Mental model building and management
must be an integral component of education for critical and creative thinking.

4. Domain-specific learning and conceptual change. It is clear that instruction must
sharpen, refine, and muster subject-specific processing and problem-solving processes
and skills. Instruction must generate controlled conceptual change so that students
acquire new grade-appropriate knowledge in the various school subjects and rectify the
various misconceptions they may have. Ideally, by the time they leave school, students
must have a sound understanding of the fundamentals of knowledge about the world as
represented by the sciences and disciplines of our time.

5. Inference, metarepresentation, and learning to learn. Students must be directed to
generate, strengthen, and enhance general reasoning patterns and problem-solving
skills out of handling and managing mental resources. Provided that reasoning emerges
out of metarepresentational processes, metarepresentation must be a target of education
in itself.

628 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

6. Critical thinking and creativity. Students must be critical so that they can evaluate
information and knowledge for its value relative to goals, either personal or social.
Evaluation must be related to criteria of accuracy, sufficiency, validity, and usefulness.
In a sense, building these criteria is the ultimate goal of education.

Relations between developing mind, school performance, and learning

The relation between cognition and education is bidirectional: Cognition shapes and affects
learning in schools, and schooling shapes and affects cognition. In this section, we will
summarize studies highlighting how this bidirectional relation evolves from preschool to
early adulthood.

Intelligence–schooling relations

Many studies substantiate the relation between the various dimensions of the mind specified
here and learning at school. Specifically, the relation between performance on intelligence
tests and examinations reflecting school achievement are very high (approx. 0.8 for the SAT
and the GCE). The relation between intelligence scores and school marks is lower but
considerable (approx. 0.5).

Deary et al. (2007) showed that general intelligence at the age of 11 years strongly
predicts school achievement at the age of 16 years all over 25 school subjects examined
(the relation between the two latent factors was 0.81). The relation varied extensively across
the various subjects. Specifically, the variance accounted for ranged from 58.6% in
Mathematics and 48% in English to 18.1% in Art and Design. For those at the mean level
of g at age 11, 58% obtained five GCE at the age of 16 years. A standard deviation increase
or decrease in g altered the values to 91% and 16%, respectively. Rohde and Thomson
(2007) showed that fluid intelligence as reflected in performance on the Raven Matrices is a
very strong predictor of school achievement, as reflected in the SAT. However, they also
found that different aspects of school achievement are differentially related to the various
aspects of g. That is, general cognitive ability was a stronger predictor of SAT verbal than
working memory, processing speed, and spatial ability. In contrast, spatial ability and
processing speed predicted SAT math scores in addition to the contribution of general
cognitive ability.

In a thorough study, Rindermann and Neubauer (2004) showed that processing speed
influences both general intelligence and creativity and that these, in turn, influence school
performance. Krumm et al. (2008) showed that reasoning is a good predictor of school
achievement in science (mathematics, physics, biology, chemistry) and language. The
executive and coordination processes of working memory additionally contribute to
performance in science; verbal storage additionally contributes to achievement in language.
Therefore, it seems that different subjects in school require a different combination of
domain-specific and domain-general processes depending upon their requirements. It needs
also to be noted that general intelligence is more important for individuals of low rather
than of high intelligence (Detterman 2000).

A series of studies conducted in our laboratory explored these relations systematically
from primary to high school in order to specify whether they vary with development
(Demetriou 1998, 2000, 2010a, b). One of these studies (Demetriou et al. 2010a, b), which
included 8- to 12-year-old students, found that a very large part of the variance of each of
three school subjects is highly accounted for by speed of processing, working memory, and

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 629

problem solving in three SSS (i.e., in total, 79% in Science, 72% in Mathematics, and 88%
in Greek). Of the three dimensions, the strongest predictor was always the problem-solving
factor underlying the three domains (i.e., 55% in Science, 67% in Mathematics, and 74% in
Greek). The effect of processing speed, although considerably lower (i.e., 21% in Science,
4% in Mathematics, and 10% in Greek), was always significant. The effect of working
memory was very weak (lower than 4% in all cases).

A second study (Panaoura, Gagatsis, and Demetriou 2009) involved children and
adolescents from 10 to 18 years of age. This study found that the relation between
processing efficiency (speed and control of processing) and school performance was much
stronger than in the previous study (i.e., it accounted for 50% of the variance in Science,
25% in Mathematics, and 16% in Greek). This may reflect the fact that the importance of
general cognitive efficiency as such for learning becomes stronger with age until early
adulthood (Grigorenko 2002). Problem-solving processes underlying performance on the
five thought domains (which have a strong Gf component) accounted for only 3% of
performance in Science, 6% in Mathematics, and 34% in Greek. Crystallized intelligence
accounted for 25% of the variance in Science, 25% in Mathematics, and 31% in Greek.
Interestingly, processing efficiency and reasoning were important factors of school
performance in all subjects throughout adolescence. The relation of school performance
with crystallized intelligence became increasingly stronger. This is consistent with the
developmental tendency noted earlier that from adolescence onwards, when basic
knowledge extraction mechanisms are consolidated, knowledge acquisition and use become
more important.

A third study (Demetriou and Panaoura 2006) aimed to assist learning in mathematics
and specify the involvement of the various dimensions of mind, as they were presented
above. This study, which involved 9- and 11-year-old students, found that children who
were high in processing efficiency and working memory were equally able to profit from
plain exposition to the teaching material or systematic instruction addressed to
mathematical problem solving. However, those who were low in these two fundamental
parameters of cognitive functioning were able to profit from systematic instruction, but not
from plain exposition to the teaching materials. The message of this study for learning is
clear: A well-structured learning environment enables the students who are weak in their
processing and representational capabilities to learn despite their weaknesses. However, the
students who are strong in processing and representational capacity can themselves
compensate for the shortcomings in their learning environment because they learn fast and
efficiently, thereby discovering and constructing by themselves the relations and concepts
that float, so to speak, in the information provided. Also, Panaoura et al. (2009) showed
that the more reflective and self-aware a person is, the more this person profits from
instruction.

Hundreds of studies examined the effect of schooling on intelligence. The Abecedarian
Study of Campbell and Burchinal (2008) was addressed to underprivileged children who
were followed from early infancy to early adulthood. Treated participants consistently and
significantly outperformed controls throughout the age phase studied, although their
difference decreased systematically from about 10 IQ points in the age phase 2–5 years to
about 4.5 IQ points in the period from 6.5 to 21 years. Interestingly, the difference in IQ
after the age of 12 years was due to the differences in verbal ability in the early preschool
years. Overall, these studies suggest that there is an increase of something between 1 and 4
IQ points for each extra year of schooling (Ceci 1991; Winship and Korenman 1997).
Gustafsson (2008) found that this effect came from changes in Gf rather than in g as such.
Interestingly, this effect came mainly from academic rather than from vocational programs

630 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

of study. Moreover, he found that programs oriented to science and technology exerted a
positive effect on visuospatial ability and crystallized intelligence.

Cognitive development–schooling relations

Kyriakides and Luyten (2009) studied the relation between schooling and cognitive
development from 12 to 18 years of age. They used a comprehensive test of cognitive
development (Demetriou and Kyriakides 2006) that examines the student’s level of
reasoning in all of the domains of thought described here but social thought. To specify the
effect of schooling, they compared students of the same age who differed by one school
grade due to the fact that there is a conventional cutoff point in birth date which specifies
when students enter primary school. They found that the effect of one extra year of
schooling was significant and considerable (effect=0.33, Cohen’s d=0.61) throughout the
six secondary school grades. This effect suggests that more school experience accelerates
progress along the hierarchy of cognitive developmental levels. The effect of schooling on
mathematics (effect=0.87, Cohen’s d=0.68) and language (effect=0.87, Cohen’s d=0.72),
expectedly, was larger. This is an interesting finding, showing that schooling, in addition to
augmenting school-specific knowledge, also boosts the underlying mechanisms of
cognitive development as such. The findings of Artman et al. (2006) are in line with this
interpretation. They found that schooling enabled 12- to14-year-old adolescents to accept
the verbal statements in an argument as premises calling for the specification of their logical
relations rather than of their content.

The research of Shayer and Adey (2002) on the acceleration of cognitive development
points to the same conclusion. These scholars showed that scaffolding cognitive
development through controlled cognitive conflict, social support, and reflection produces
immediate gains in the level of cognitive development, but also to subsequent gains in
national public examinations taken 3 years later, in Science, Mathematics, and English
language (Shayer and Adey 2002; Shayer and Adhami 2003).

Some aspects of culture which are tightly intertwined with education may be strongly
associated with intellectual functioning. Research shows that this may indeed be the case with
writing, which is major component of education. Logographic systems of writing, such as
Chinese, are very different from alphabetic systems in their cognitive demands. That is,
logographic systems are much more demanding than alphabetic systems in visuospatial
processing and construction of associations betweenmeaning and representations. Demetriou et
al. (2005) maintained that learning the Chinese logographic system has a lasting effect on
visuospatial processing that extends from basic information processing mechanisms related to
speed and control of processing to visuospatial spatial working memory and spatial reasoning.
Recent studies substantiate this claim. Cole and Pickering (2010) showed that learning
Chinese makes children more flexible in using both visuospatial and phonological encoding
strategies for storing and retrieving information from working memory as contrasted to
learners of alphabetic orthography who use only phonological strategies. McBride-Chang et
al. (2011) showed longitudinally that readers of logographic systems outperform readers of
alphabetic systems on visual tasks and that learning to read Chinese has a general beneficial
effect on visual–spatial reasoning. These findings may explain, at least in part, the fact that
eastern nations (i.e., Chinese, Koreans, and Japanese), who use logographic systems of
writing (average IQ in the range 105–108), outperform western nations (average IQ in the
range 90–100) in measures of intelligence (Lynn and Vanhanen 2006).

In conclusion, there are well-documented reciprocal relations between the developing
mind and schooling that are related to all aspects of the cognitive architecture depicted here.

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 631

The discussion below builds on these relations in order to suggest how education can be
more systematic and efficient in improving the students’ minds and learning.

Self-awareness, personality, motivation, and schooling

The relation of self-awareness and self-representation with school performance is much
more complicated and indirect rather than direct. Specifically, all of the studies summarized
above showed that cognitive self-concept as such is very weakly, if at all, related to school
performance, especially in primary school. However, accuracy in self-evaluation is related
to school performance in adolescence. Specifically, we found (Demetriou and Kazi 2001)
that adolescents who were not accurate in their evaluations of their own performance on
cognitive tasks tended to obtain lower school grades than their classmates who attain the
same cognitive performance and were accurate in their self-evaluations. Interestingly, high
cognitive ability and self-evaluation accuracy go with a strong sense of self-control.
Moreover, these individuals tend to engage in activities which require effort and originality.
Overall, however, the additive contribution of personality factors to school performance is
very low. That is, each of three personality factors, i.e., conscientiousness, openness to
experience, and persistence to stay on goal, accounted for an extra 4% of the variance of
school grades in the three school subjects above. It seems, therefore, that motivational and
personality factors moderate the investment of cognitive factors into learning activities
rather determine learning as such (Demetriou and Kazi 2001).

Tuning developmental and educational timing

Piaget was the first to note that children in different developmental stages live, in a way, in
different worlds and that education must take this into account if it is to be successful.
Therefore, learning tasks, to be successful, must be tailored to the child’s phase of
development. This section will discuss implications of the theory presented here for the
developmental timing (Anderson 1985) of educational goals, concepts, and problem-solving
skills across and within school grades or other educationally meaningful time units.

Capitalizing on developmental milestones for learning (Table 4)

The sequence of developmental milestones is an important guide for the formulation of
major educational goals. So far, state education does not include programs for children
younger than about 3–4 years of age. The time is ripe for a more systematic approach to
education in infancy. The rich knowledge that we now have about the mental capabilities of
infants provides a sound basis for the design of “educational environments” that would
enable the infants to consolidate and expand these capabilities. Moreover, the increasing
demands of primary education necessitate the required preparations in infancy.

Infancy and core operators Education in infancy should be directed to practicing the core
operators in the SSS in order to enhance infants’ (1) understanding of the nature, behavior,
and relations of objects; (2) their own relations with objects and other persons and the
influence of their own activity on objects and persons; and (3) the basics of number. Some
examples are given below for each SSS.

Infancy is marked by limited representational capacity and executive control. Moreover,
at this phase, the use of language as a medium of representation and instruction is limited.

632 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

Therefore, education focusing on the core operations present before the age of 2 years must
capitalize on the active discovery and exploration activities that dominate at this phase and
control for the easily shifting attention and lack of language (Posner and Rothbart 2006).

Table 4 Developmental milestones and educational priorities for the education of the developing mind

Age and
milestones

Educational priorities Learning to learn Epistemological
awareness

Infancy: 0–2 Educating directed discovery
and the SSS core processes.
Infants must construct (1)
a basic understanding of
the nature, behavior, and
relations of objects, (2)
their own relations with
objects and persons, the
influence of their own
activity on objects and
persons, and (3) the
basics of number.

Educate infants to follow
instructions. Let them
do complementary actions
vis-à-vis a task of interest.
Let them have “controlled
failure” experiences.

Differentiate one’s
own knowledge
from others’
knowledge (e.g.,
dad can do things
I cannot do and
so I can ask
for his help).

Elaboration of
core operations

Toddlerhood:
3–4

Educating dual representation.
Explore alternative
appearances of objects,
perspectives of persons,
and representations of
objects and persons and
tag them with symbols.

Explore their own actions
and talk about them.
Talk about each others’
representations and doings.
Differentiate between what
they can and what they
cannot do. Differentiate
between knowing what to
do and doing. Rehearse.

Overcome
absolutism.

Dual
representation

Primary school:
7–8

Educating logical exploration
and coherence. Mapping
object characteristics onto
related mental operations,
representations, and concepts.
Explore relations between
operations and representations
and grasp how they constrain
each other in meaning and
conclusions.

Differentiate between
mental functions (i.e.,
attention, memory,
knowing, inference,
etc.) and relate them
with appropriate
activities. Formulate
plans of actions and
tell them to yourself.

Understand the
multiplicity of
knowledge and
that the nature
and “quality” of
knowledge depends
upon the methods
or processes
generating it.

Logical necessity

Adolescence:
13–14

Educating suppositional
thought. Educate the
“if … then” stance.
Envisage alternative
worlds, test, validate,
choose, and argue.
Differentiate between
logic and inference.

Differentiate between
mental operations in
different domains.
Associate them with
relevant representational,
inferential, and
logical systems.

Grasp the
complementarity
of methods and
processes in
knowledge
production
and revision.

Suppositional
thought

Young adulthood:
20–22

Educating theory
building. Educate
on realism, relativity,
and theory building,
merging, and modeling.

Associate mind operations
and products with culture
and history. Differentiate
knowledge construction
and control methods
according to historical era,
discipline, or social context.

Understand the
differences between
traditions, schools
of knowledge,
epistemological
paradigms.

Theoretical
thought

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 633

This can be attained by a careful organization of what is available to the infant to play with
and discover the relations of interest. These must be limited in number so that the infant is
not distracted by them.

For example, classification skills and induction of relations must be based on perceptual
similarity that generates concepts in the categorical system. There may be special markers
that can direct attention to particular features of the objects, such as shape or color, and
facilitate the infant to ignore other features, such as texture. Moreover, there may be special
effects that provide feedback about acceptable and not acceptable sorting actions, such as
special sounds for successful and unsuccessful actions. These conditions may direct the
infant to explore the form, size, shape, and relations between objects which may generate
mental representations of the objects and their categorical and visuospatial relations. In the
quantitative SSS, objects can be arranged variably within the subitization limit so that they
can be counted, numbered, and tagged visually to generate representations about number. In
the causal SSS, particular objects or components of objects may be associated with special
effects, such as sounds or colors. The actions of the infant on these objects may enable him
to build causal connections between his behavior, objects, and effects. Mapping variations
of actions with corresponding variations of effects is conducive to the construction of a
mental space of causality. Finally, in the social domain, pretend play may be used for
recognizing emotional expressions, deciphering the emotional states of others in a social
system, and understanding their effects on interpersonal interactions. It is interesting to note
that the toy and the cartoon industry produces toys and cartoons that implement
knowledge and ideas about the mental needs and capabilities of young infants. These
products, if properly presented, may prove very conducive to the goals of infant
education noted here.

At the edge between infancy and toddlerhood, with the emergence of language,
education must enable the infant to connect core operators with representations and advance
them into the respective mental operations of the specialized domains concerned. That is,
the infant must be facilitated to recognize how different words, symbols, and the
grammatical and syntactical structures of language are connected to realities related to
each of the core operators mentioned above.

Education episodes in infancy must recycle with gradually shifting content and
complexity to ensure that mastering of the target relations becomes consolidated and
increasingly free of content and contextual restrictions. Education episodes in infancy must
have a strong social component where empathy motivates the infant to engage in learning
activity and imitation provides the frame for fast learning (Meltzoff et al. 2009).
Moreover, individual differences in temperament and activity level must be taken into
account for the formation of programs adjusted to different children (Keogh 2003). For
example, some infants can focus and persist on an activity much more than other infants.
Therefore, cycles of activity must be adapted to the focus span of the infant (Posner and
Rothbart 2006).

Preschool and dual representations Education at the preschool years must provide
conditions for the knowing and handling of dual representation. For instance, tagging
photographs to the objects they represent and then varying the perceptual similarity
between an object and its photograph until transforming the photograph into an abstract
representation of the object is a method for inducing toddlers in the nature of representation
in the categorical domain (DeLoache 1991). Tagging numbers onto sets of objects and
tagging written words to expressions may have the same function in the quantitative
domain and in the domain of language, respectively. Moreover, associating alternative

634 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

representations with the same reality (e.g., number digits and number words) may be
helpful in enabling the child to dissociate representation from thought as such.

Children must be systematically instructed to explore how the appearance of objects may
change without affecting the identity of objects (e.g., changing the dressing of a doll,
playing with transformers and other toys where variation of appearances is an integral part
of their construction). They must be assisted (e.g., via role playing) to alternate between
one’s own point of view and another’s point of view by systematically exchanging and
comparing positions. Moreover, in these contexts, they must be induced to realize that
different perspectives or different appearances may induce in different persons different
representations and different beliefs about the realities concerned. Thus, tagging photo-
graphs of the different perspectives from which an object may be viewed and associating it
with different persons, according to the perspective from which they view the object, is a
good practice into perspective taking and theory of mind. Therefore, in this phase of life,
education must enable preschool children to join their own overt actions with alternative
representations that may be used to represent them.

Furthermore, toddlers must learn to observe their actions relative to a task, observe
others doing the same task, and reflect (or talk) on both how they can themselves modify
actions in order to become better tuned to a goal and on others’ performance. Talking with
others about an object or action helps in building a representational space where the same
actions or objects are represented by different representations or different actions or objects
may be represented by the same representation. In conclusion, bridging of self-modification
experiences over different occasions must be encouraged as it strengthens self-regulation
and executive control. Bridging actions and representations across persons helps
differentiate how reality can be represented, how representations may be used to guide
actions, and that alternative representations lead to alternative action plans.

Primary school, representational cohesion, and logical necessity Dual representation
gradually evolves, in the primary school years, into coherent thought that can handle
multiple representations. Therefore, education in the primary school years must focus on
revealing the connections between concepts and operations and facilitate children to see
their own overt or mental actions vis-à-vis the concepts and operations. For example,
children must realize that sorting objects into different groups or stacks according to
similarity results into category building. As a result, perceptual characteristics of objects
and actions on them are reduced to mental representations and words standing for them. In
turn, category building facilitates mental labor and learning because, for example, object
characteristics may be logically derived from category properties and category names can
generate the names of all objects included in each category. This will enable children to
realize that series of representations are logically linked with each other so that particular
series necessarily result into particular conclusions. This will help them understand that
logic underlies inference and is governed by restrictions that need to be respected, if the
outcomes of inference are to be valid (Barrouillet 1997; Daniel and Klaczynski 2006;
Klauer et al. 2000; Overton et al. 1985).

Adolescence, suppositional, and theoretical thought The next milestone is the suppositional
and theoretical stance of adolescence. Therefore, education in early adolescence should
focus on developing the “if … then” stance approach to problem solving and build
epistemological awareness about the characteristics, possibilities, and limitations of
different knowledge domains vis-à-vis their methods, functions, and priorities. That is,
adolescents should be able, on the one hand, to handle logical inference efficiently. On the

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 635

other hand, they must realize that very often, logical conclusions may vary depending on
the premises involved and that premises may be derived from different theories or belief
systems. Eventually, however, an acceptable truth may be reached through appropriate
controls, even temporarily.

A useful framework for the strengthening of this stance is the systematic exploration of
important phenomena from the point of view of different disciplines or different theories
within a discipline. Motion is a good example. There are theories about motion in
practically every science. In physics, it is described in reference to speed and space and is
explained in reference to causal factors, such as energy, force, and work. In chemistry, it is
described in reference to the structural and molecular characteristics of objects. In biology,
it is described in reference to its function (e.g., survival), the structural enabling
mechanisms (e.g., feed in walking animals, wings in flying animals), and the biological
enabling mechanisms (e.g., eating, digestion, photosynthesis, metabolism). In psychology, it
is described as an aspect of development (e.g., changes in the ability for movement in the
first 3 years of life), or skill acquisition (e.g., learning to drive a car), as a means for social
interaction (e.g., approach to another person), and as the result of underlying psychological
causes (e.g., the expression of an intention or the implementation of a mental plan).
Adolescents may be acquainted with different models for motion in each of the disciplines
mentioned above, explore their similarities and differences in concern to the methods used
to construct them, the data invoked to support them, the language or symbol systems used
to represent them, and their functional role in each discipline as a system of knowledge.
Moreover, they may run experiments especially designed to demonstrate specific models in
different disciplines. For example, students may study the similarities and differences
between courseworkhero.co.uk’s, Newton’s, and Einstein’s models of motion in physics. Moreover, they
may be acquainted with the use of concepts from one discipline to explain phenomena in
another discipline (e.g., chemical reactions underlying the transformation of energy into
work to explain metabolism enabling movement in animals) in order to grasp the general
underlying mechanisms that cut across disciplines and use common models to represent
them, such as the notion of function connecting variables of interest.

Adulthood, multiplicity of knowledge, rationality, and wisdom The goals of education for
adolescence as stated above must culminate in the college level. The aim would be to refine
conditional and theoretical thought and embed it into living science. Although a possibility
of this phase of life, this stance is very rare even among college students despite the fact
that universities take it for granted. Thus, in college, students must be given ad hoc
education directed to the understanding of (1) science as a process of discovery and
incessant change of knowledge and methods (2) and as an institution in interaction with
other social and cultural institutions.

Courses on the nature and history of science would be conducive to the attainment
of this aim. This knowledge would facilitate and consolidate the differentiation between
knowledge and thought which is attained at this phase of life. Moreover, it would
contribute to the understanding of the double nature of scientific knowledge. That, on
the one hand, it is relative vis-à-vis other relevant theories of the past, present, and
future, whereas, on the other hand, it is of certain heuristic value vis-à-vis relevant
understanding and problem-solving needs. This would contribute to the refinement of critical
thinking skills that are necessary to deal with complex problems more generally than the
particular discipline of one’s study.

Not all youth go to university. Programs of lifelong learning may compensate for this
lack. These programs may focus on issues related to life choices and their possible impact

636 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

on one’s own and other persons’ lives. Taking the different perspectives and ensuing
choices of different persons involved in life episodes would enhance one’s ability to
alternate between choices and integrate accordingly. Rationality and wisdom may be
facilitated.

Tuning educational demands with cognitive possibilities

According to the neo-Piagetians (Case 1992; Halford et al. 1998; Pascal-Leone 1988), to be
grasped, concepts have a specific representational demand. Therefore, the concepts and
activities to be taught must reside within the representational and processing possibilities of
each child in the classroom. According to Halford et al. (1998), the mental demand of
concepts is equal to the relational complexity of the mental units that they involve. Also,
any sequence of concepts must be tuned to the needs of the developmental milestones of the
phase concerned. This would, on the one hand, facilitate learning as such and, on the other
hand, would consolidate the mental possibilities afforded by the developmental milestone
of each developmental phase.

Moreover, concepts are usually defined on the basis of other concepts. For example,
according to Dawson (2006), the concept of energy (as the ability to do work) requires the
integration of three abstract concepts (e.g., kinetic energy, energy transfer, and gravity);
these, in turn, are defined by simpler concepts (motion, pulling, pushing, etc.). Scholars
(Case 1985; Demetriou et al. 2010a, b; Fischer 1980; Halford 1993; Pascal-Leone 1988)
suggest that higher-level concepts can be grasped when the integration of the lower-level
component concepts is representationally possible. Therefore, to properly teach the concept
of energy, the educator should first establish the grasp of the lower-level component
concepts at the right age.

Therefore, in preschool, teaching may focus on the activities of the infant, such as
pushing or pulling and their results on objects. In primary school, students may reflect on
the relations between the observations that give content to the component concepts, such as
kinetic energy and energy transfer, with the aim of grasping the informational and
representational cohesion that they entail. Subsequently, in early adolescence, students may
reflect on the underlying principles that integrate kinetic energy and energy transfer and
how they can be expressed into a single construct. At the end, the integrated concept of
energy may be reflected from alternative points of view, such as from the point of view of
physics, biology, ecosystems, etc. For example, teaching may elaborate on energy in diverse
substances, such as oil and food, and the physical and biological mechanisms that can
process it, such as engines and digestion and metabolic systems of animals. Obviously, the
complexity of concepts and examples must remain within the representational capacity of
each age level.

Also, it is to be noted that no individual functions continuously at his or her upper limit
of capacity, especially at the initial phases of reaching this capacity or of implementing this
capacity in the mastering of a concept or skill. Moreover, not all individuals in a classroom
operate at the modal upper limit that is characteristic of the age of interest. In fact, research
suggests that there may be systematic differences between the learning possibilities of
children within the same classroom because of age differences at school entrance. These
differences produce the so-called relative age effect in school performance. Cobley et al.
(2009) found that the younger students in a classroom obtain significantly lower grades
than their older classmates throughout the curriculum (i.e., science, maths, and physical
education) across secondary school grades and gender. In terms of the theory presented
here, this effect reflects possible initial differences in children’s cognitive ability (also

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 637

possible differences in skills for handling the learning environment) which cause a
disadvantage on their part to understand and follow the pace of their older classmates.

Therefore, a general guiding principle for curriculum designers and teachers is as
follows: The pacing of teaching (Anderson 1985) of any concept or skill must always start
with examples having a cognitive demand that is lower than the optimum capacity of each
student in the classroom. Even high-capacity children may operate at a level lower than
their optimum when first facing a new concept or skill. Therefore, provided that there is
variation across individuals for a given domain and within individuals across domains, the
mastering of a concept or skill must be graded along a continuum of examples that range
from the lowest necessary to the optimum for each individual student in each domain. Our
study summarized above about the relations between learning mathematics and processing
efficiency has clearly suggested that when processing efficiency and working memory are
weak, guidance is necessary to compensate for the students’ weakness to construct the
necessary relations themselves. Concerning the relative age effect noted above, special
provisions are needed that would enable the teachers to spot younger children in the
classroom with possible understanding difficulties and provide them with special support to
compensate for their difficulties. A good approach here is to start teaching a given target
concept at level L by introducing the lower-level L-1, L-2, etc., component concepts of the
target concept. Reviewing a large number of studies, cognitive load researchers have
reached the same conclusion (Sweller 1994; Kirschner et al. 2006).

Therefore, each student must be given the opportunity to construct the concept or
skill of interest gradually and steadily according to his or her own zone of proximal
development and according to his or her own scaffolding needs. This kind of
classroom management requires a flexible curriculum that allows individualization of
learning in the same classroom so that treatment develops according to the aptitude of
different students (Snow 1989). Below, we will focus on the education of the two main
loops of understanding.

Educating the problem-solving loop

Educating representational and processing efficiency

An increasing number of studies tried to improve intelligence by training addressed
directly to the various aspects of working memory, attention, and executive control
(Buschkuehl and Jaeggi 2010; Jaeggi et al. 2008; Klingberg et al. 2002; Posner and
Rothbart 2006; Thorell et al. 2009). This approach was based on the evidence showing
that fluid intelligence is largely determined by these processes (Blair 2006; Kyllonen and
Christal 1990). In all of these studies, training aimed to improve the ability to (1) monitor
ongoing performance, (2) keep track of the flow of information and update it for as long
as needed, (3) manage more than one task simultaneously (e.g., by alternating between
blocks or types of information, if needed), (4) bind items according to type and time of
presentation, and (5) inhibit irrelevant items. Clearly, these studies aimed to improve the
quality of representation, management, and integration of information in working
memory. Therefore, they directly addressed executive and episodic integration processes.
In line with these findings, several studies found that these interventions resulted in
improved performance on tests of fluid intelligence, such as the Raven Matrices. There is
also evidence that training working memory has a long-lasting positive effect on the
general intellectual and school performance of students diagnosed with ADHD
(Westerberg 2004).

638 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

Educating mental modeling and conceptual change

There is a vast literature on conceptual change and how it relates to education (e.g., Carey
1985; Vosniadou 2008). Education is a constant force of conceptual change because it
imparts new scientific knowledge about the world that is often in conflict with knowledge
coming from personal experience or important others. Therefore, teaching must rectify or
displace the personal or lay knowledge available. This is not always easy because this
knowledge is functional and supported by the phenomenal aspects of things. The
heliocentric model of the world and the model presuming that the earth is flat are classical
examples of this knowledge. These models persisted in human history for ages, and they
still persist as spontaneous constructions of individual development (Vosniadou and Brewer
1992). Thus, teaching must lead the students to conceive of the new concepts and
demonstrate their explanatory and problem-solving advantages relative to the old concepts.

Moreover, learning in schools is additive and takes place over many years. Thus, the
very organization of teaching necessitates conceptual change because the concepts
constructed at a given grade must be extended or connected with other related concepts
that must be constructed at following grades. Also, knowledge changes as a result of new
discoveries in science. Therefore, even knowledge presented by the school as proper at one
time may be questioned by the school itself at some later time. Finally, knowledge about the
same phenomena or realities may differ across different fields. Therefore, the school must
develop a mindset for continuous conceptual change in students. This requires tools to
represent and learn the new concepts presented in the classroom. Mental modeling is one of
the main tools. Here, we will focus on the use of mental models in conceptual change. We
will first elaborate on the construction of mental models for the use of the basic operations
associated with the various operational domains. Then we will focus on the use of mental
models for different knowledge domains and their role in conceptual change.

Mental models for operational domains

The various SSS involve different systems of operations. Students must acquire model
templates for these systems to facilitate their use as knowledge extraction mechanisms. For
example, it would be useful for the operation of the categorical system to have a template
for classification and categorical relations between concepts, such as logical multiplication
or tree diagrams. These models would help the student realize that the properties of objects
intersect variably and that concepts are defined by these intersections. Thus, it would be
useful to search for these intersections according to the template and fill it in according to
the field in question, such as biology, physics, chemistry, etc. Moreover, they should
understand that the template would be useful for reflection and elaboration on the relations
between the objects and for subsequent recall and use. For example, in the phase of dual
representations, preschoolers may be instructed to sort objects into piles according to
various properties, such as shape or color, and tag them with names or other symbols. In
primary school, they may be instructed to cross-classify according to two or more
dimensions and elaborate on the logical relations implied by the classes constructed.

In a similar vein, it would be useful for the understanding of causal relations to have a
template for their representation and manipulation. This template would involve the basic
relations of causality (i.e., necessary and sufficient, necessary but not sufficient, neither
necessary nor sufficient, and incompatible). Moreover, it would have to involve a
demonstration of the basic tenet of causal modeling in science that covariation or
correlation does not necessarily signify a causal relation. This is all the more important

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 639

because correlation is taken as a sign of causality from very early in infancy (Keil 2011) and
is part of everyday misconceptions of causal relations (Vosniadou 2008). A model of these
relations would be helpful in directing the student how to manipulate the relations between
factors in order to explore them and to interpret the results of experimentation. Moreover,
the basic principles of the manipulation of causal relations, such as techniques and methods
for the isolation of variables in different contexts and different knowledge domains, may be
associated with the template. In primary school, children may be induced to single-factor
experiments where one variable is varied along several levels to build a clear understanding
of the relation between these variations and different effects. In adolescence, models for
multifactor experiments may be taught where control requires matching between variables.
Moreover, these models may be integrated with hypotheses and related deductive reasoning
schemes.

In the quantitative domain, a model of the mental number line as early as preschool, a
model of relations between different versions of mental number line in primary school, or
models of different numerical operations would be useful for problem solving in
mathematics. Also, models of different types of numbers, such as natural or rational
numbers and the symbol systems used to express and operate on them, would be useful for
learning mathematics. Finally, models of more complex notions, such as the notion of
functions or algebraic relations, should be part of the teaching of mathematics at the end of
primary school and in secondary school.

In the spatial domain, models of the three-dimensional space or episodic sequences in
space may help represent the objects or relations concerned. It may be noted that training in
visualization may be helpful. In clinical psychology, there is a vast literature in the use of
mental imagery in cognitive behavior therapy. This literature highlights the techniques that
may be used to educate students in constructing and using mental images for the sake of
acquiring control of their behavior (Crits-Christoph and Singer 1981). Along this line,
mental imagery is extensively used in the coaching of athletes. Visualizing the behavior
under training beforehand facilitates performing the behavior as required (Jones and Stuth
1997). Also, the role of mental imagery in creativity and discovery is well known.
Einstein’s thought experiments about the appearance of objects and relations when we
approach the speed of light, Kekule’s model of the benzolium, and Watson and Crick’s
three-dimensional model of the DNA helix are some of the very famous examples of how
mental imagery may be used to envisage and better explore the implications of relations
between concepts and entities (Finke 1993; Reed 1993).

Conceptual frames and conceptual change

Students, when encountering new concepts or problems, must specify the broad field of
knowledge the concepts or problem belong to (e.g., physics, biology, psychology); the
particular domain within a field of knowledge (e.g., gravity or force within physics,
evolution or heredity within biology); the type of procedures and operations required (e.g.,
interpretation, categorization, measurement or estimation, hypothesis testing or explanation);
and the special algorithms required (e.g., recall from memory, special sorting actions or special
mathematical operations required). They must also specify what they do not know about the
concept or problem. They must then try to remove all unknowns by extrapolation from what
they know. Extrapolation can initially occur by induction and analogy that generate mental
models based on similarities between what is known and what needs to be specified.
Constructing mental models about possible interpretations or solutions to problems is important
in this process because mental models are the means to go from what is known to what is not

640 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

known. In constructing new mental models, students should understand that they may have to
map new knowledge onto extant knowledge by combining, interweaving, or fusing new with
old knowledge. Alternatively, their newmodel may just be a differentiated or refined version of
an old model (Demetriou and Raftopoulos 1999; Raftopoulos and Constantinou 2004). The
mental models may be visual, verbal, mathematical, or anything else. Of the models
generated by induction and analogy, not all are useful or relevant. Redundant, inappropriate,
or irrelevant models may be eliminated by deductive reasoning which helps evaluate them on
the basis of the constraints of the field or domain accepted as the basis of understanding and
problem solving. That is, the models that fit the constraints are lifted to the level of solutions
or new concepts and those that do not fit are eliminated.

In this process, metarepresentation comes into play to abstract reasoning patterns and
makes them available for future use. Thus, metarepresentation operates on two levels: At a
first level, it stabilizes the models selected and encodes them as solutions to be called upon
in the future. At a higher level, it lifts the very evaluation process into increasingly more
flexible inferential schemes, such as those leading from simple modus ponens reasoning to
the flexible reasoning enabling one to deal with fallacies.

Therefore, students must understand that knowledge is generated in the context of social
institutions that exist for this purpose. These institutions are to a large extent the products of
their time, they may coexist, and they may often provide conflicting answers to the same
questions. An example is religion and science. Religion is much older. Science came very
late in the history of civilization and is primarily identified by the logic of systematic
inquiry and control of knowledge rather than by knowledge as such or belief. However,
even in science, disciplines differ in their methods of inquiry, the answers they generate,
and the objectivity and precision of the controls they employ to validate knowledge. In
Kagan’s (2009) terms, humanities, social sciences, and natural sciences are the three
cultures of knowledge. Engineering may be added as the realm of technical applications
that can be derived from the various disciplines for the sake of particular social, cultural, or
economical needs. The arts may be added as a special way of representing and interpreting
reality, according to acceptable aesthetic criteria, in order to convey messages with special
value for both the artist and society.

Students must understand that knowledge and concepts about the world are constrained
by the particularities of the discipline that generated them. Therefore, students must develop
mental models and templates appropriate for capturing how disciplines differ in using
observation, controlled experiment, logical analysis, and argumentation for the construction
of knowledge in their respective fields.

They must also understand how knowledge in each discipline is affected by the political,
cultural, and historical contexts in which it was developed. Finally, they must develop a
systemic approach that enables them to see each model from the point of view of others.
For instance, although causal relations are everywhere the same, causation is expressed
differently in physics, biology, human relations, and history. Specifically, in the various
knowledge domains, cause–effect relations are expressed on different timescales (e.g.,
milliseconds in chemical reactions vs. thousands of years in evolution vs. billions of years
in astronomy), take place on different levels of reality (e.g., observable reality vs. hidden
reality that is not accessible to the senses), they may be masked by different kinds of
confounding factors, and they thus require different manipulations to become obvious and
established. Mental images have a different role in art (they may symbolize realities only
remotely related to the image as such), geometry (analogical to the object of interest),
natural science (closely related as representations of the realities of interest), and human
interactions (laden with personal meaning and emotions). Quantitative thought is the mental

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 641

background for mathematics, but it may not be equally applicable to express knowledge in
physics, economics, psychology, and history. Thus, students must understand that
operations in the various domains are expressed differently in different knowledge
domains. As a result, their modeling is the same at one level of analysis (i.e., the
fundamental causal relations are the same everywhere) but different at another level (i.e.,
content and form of interactions between factors). Moreover, educating students to translate
between symbolic systems may be an excellent means for enabling them to explore the
boundaries between domains, similarities and differences between mental operations within
and across domains, and generate general inference patterns.

We suggest that the construction of new knowledge and skills and the epistemological
awareness that is necessary may well be served if organized around the big ideas that were
elaborated in different disciplines through the years. For example, ideas such as gravity,
energy, or force in physics, evolution, heredity, or homeostasis in biology, or intelligence,
motivation, or consciousness in psychology are good examples of ideas that can be
developed in the curriculum. Each of these ideas may be presented from several
perspectives. For example, they may be presented along a dimension that varies from their
relevance to personal experience and everyday life to abstract models about underlying
general laws that are remote from personal experience and everyday life. The historical
perspective is also important. Explicating how an idea was conceived in different phases in
the history of a discipline may enable students to realize that the same phenomenon may be
differently understood over time as knowledge is tested and refined. Finally, the same
idea may be discussed from the point of view of different disciplines. This would
highlight both the differences between disciplines in their knowledge production
mechanisms and also the multiplicity of representations that may exist for the same
aspect of the world. The reader is reminded of the example of motion explicated
above. Linn and Eylon’s (2011) knowledge integration model for science teaching (i.e.,
building on personal knowledge and ideas, using evidence to distinguish between
alternatives, reflecting on alternative accounts of scientific phenomena) is fully
compatible with our theory. As Smith (2009) has noted, this approach brings back
Piaget’s epistemological orientation to knowledge construction as a guiding frame for
educational science and practice.

The systemic approach advanced here requires a multidimensional representation of
concepts that would enable the student to see how different elements or processes of
the phenomenon concerned depend on and affect each other. For example,
representing (1) the structure (e.g., what does it consists of, such as the wings of birds
or airplanes); (2) the function (what is it for, such as for motion); and (3) the process (how
does it operate, such as the flying movements of the birds or propulsion by the spinning
of propellers or air emission of jet engines) of the phenomenon of interest enables
students to grasp the relations both within and across concepts and disciplines and, when
working on a problem, plan actions accordingly. Interestingly, several scholars proposed
variants of these schemes as a means for guiding learning and problem solving in fields as
different as engineering (Kalyuga et al. 2010) and biology (Hmelo-Silver and Pfeffer
2004). Kalyuga and Hanham (2011) have recently shown that a hierarchical exposition of
how systems operate is more effective in producing learning and transfer. This is a
general-to-detail instructional sequence where general ideas are presented first for each of
the three aspects of the tripartite structure and are gradually differentiated into their
specifics. However, it needs to be noted here that the effectiveness of the general-to-detail
or the specific-to-general sequence may differ according to developmental level and
expertise (Ericsson and Lehmann 1996).

642 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

Educating inference and reasoning

We suggested above that development and learning within each of the domains does not
automatically or necessarily generalize to the other domains. At the same time, the domains
provide the background material for the activation and operation of metarepresentational
processes that generate general reasoning patterns and problem-solving strategies that
generalize beyond the domains. It is important for education to capitalize on these processes
and direct the students to swing between the domain-specific and the domain-general
operation as efficiently and profitably as possible. Below, we outline the framework that
may be conducive to the attainment of this goal.

Education is directly or indirectly a process that gradually transforms automatic
reasoning into controlled reasoning (Nisbett 2009; Olson 2003). However, this process
can also be systematically educated. The theory and research discussed here suggest that the
systematic education of reasoning should be directed to attain the following goals: (1)
decontextualize inference; (2) differentiate between inferential processes and logical forms,
such as inductive, analogical, and deductive reasoning; (3) make use of mental models for
the sake of inference and reasoning; and (4) make use of metarepresentation to elevate
reasoning from the handling of possibilities based on mental models to the mastering of the
underlying logical relations and the implications of inference. This is an important
educational goal because critical thinking would remain incomplete and impaired if the
evaluation of information and arguments would be incomplete due to flaws in the analysis
of their logical status and cohesion. Inductive and deductive reasoning may be the focus of
teaching. Here, we will focus on deductive reasoning.

Deductive reasoning develops from a state where everything but content is implicit to a state
where all crucial processes gradually become explicit (see above). Following the scheme
outlined above, decontextualization of deductive reasoning would have to lead children to see
the logical form of an argument beneath the content. An example is given below:

Birds fly. Birds fly. Birds fly. Bs do x.

Sparrows are birds. Ostriches are birds. Elephants are birds. As are Bs.

Therefore:

Sparrows fly. Ostriches fly. Elephants fly. As do x.

In this example, all four arguments are valid. However, in the first argument, both the
premises and the conclusion are true. In the second argument, the premises are true but the
conclusion is false. In the third argument, the second premise and the conclusion are false.
Finally, the formal structure of the argument is shown.

At preschool, children may be led to realize that the information in the premises is
connected by inference. Actual models of the organisms involved and visual representations
of the line of inference going from the one to the other are obviously useful. At primary
school, directed comparisons across the various arguments would enable children to
differentiate form from content and understand that logic constrains inference. That is,
when children understand that the conclusion “elephants fly” necessarily follows from the
premises, given that we accept that “elephants are birds” and that “birds fly,” they already
know that logical structure underlies inference and that content is irrelevant for the
conclusion. For this to be possible, children must focus on the logical form of each sentence
as given in the argument and ignore any other previous knowledge or information related to
the meaning of the words in the sentences. Also, they must understand that in order to grasp

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 643

the logical relationships implied by a logical argument, they need to break down or analyze
the argument into the premises involved and focus on their logical or formal relationships
independent of content. The formal relationships implied by the premises in an argument
are normally hinted at or suggested by particular words of natural language, such as class
indicators “is,” “are,” “and,” the conditionals “if … then”, the disjunctives “either … or,” etc.

In adolescence, the main aim of education would be to make metalogic explicit so that
the adolescent understands that logic constrains the relations between statements and
possible mental models and logical relations are specifiable through systematic search of an
argument’s space. Thus, instruction should explicate what mental models follow from
different types of relations and how all models implementing the possibilities associated
with a particular relation are expressed by the relevant logical principle. For example, the
simple modus ponens argument “if p then q,” combined to other premises, implies the
following possibilities and truth functions: “if p then q” and “p,” then the conclusion “p and
q” is compatible and true; “if p then q” and “not p,” then the conclusion “not p and not q” is
compatible and true; “if p then q” and “not p,” then the conclusion “not p and q” is
incompatible and indeterminate; and “if p then q” and “p,” then the conclusion “p and not
q” is incompatible and false. In this way, controlled reasoning is gradually extracted and
consolidated from automatic reasoning.

In our laboratory, Christoforides (2010) has shown that this approach is very
successful in raising the reasoning capabilities of primary school children. Specifically,
third and sixth grade children were systematically instructed to do the following: (1)
interpret the premises analytically and differentiate them from the conclusion; (2)
differentiate between necessary and likely conclusions; (3) spot contradictions between
premises and conclusions and construct alternative models for premises and conclusions;
and (4) recognize logical necessity and logical sufficiency. Although all children were
able to profit from this program and become able to successfully deal with fallacies,
children with higher working memory profited more. Moreover, children that were able to
describe the logical similarities of arguments were also in advantage to gain from the
program. Therefore, both processing efficiency and metacognitive awareness are
conducive to educating logical reasoning.

Kuhn (1991, 2009) suggested that there are several skills that would be very important
for sound reasoning in addition to decontextualization. Specifically, resisting certainty about
conclusions, withholding judgment until examining all relations involved, and awareness
that one’s own personal biases may influence judgment are important because they enable
the thinker to be exhaustive, objective, and systematic. Finally, it is important to note that
reasoning is a means in the service of information exchange and evaluation in human
communication (Mercier and Sperber 2011). Therefore, education for reasoning must be
associated with education for argumentation from multiple perspectives (Kuhn 1991).

Wrapping it up: education for problem solving

The discussion above focused on the education of the various systems involved in the
problem-solving loop. Here, we focus on the education of the loop as such. Problems may
vary enormously in complexity, in required systems, and in aim. Moreover, the priorities
and type of problems that are of concern to individuals vary extensively with development.
For example, in infancy, tool use, such as eating tools, or building behavioral skills is
important. In youth, life choices, such as choosing what to study, accepting a job offer, or
getting married, are important. Later on, designing a new product, advancing theory in a
particular discipline, or making a political decision that would lead a country out of a crisis

644 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

may be important. In all phases, however, problem solving shares common elements that
may be educated.

Specifically, problems require a clear conception of the final goal. Also, they require the
formation of a solution plan that entails the specification of a sequence of steps until
reaching the goal. Thus, education for problem solving must enable the individual to realize
the value of withholding action until formulating an action plan. Tool use, such as using a
spoon for eating, is useful for educating infants to understand how different actions (e.g.,
different ways of holding the spoon) may influence attainment of the final goal (food in the
mouth). Constructions that require replicating a model, such as building a tower, are useful
for showing the value of planning and the importance of sequencing steps in the proper
order (Keen 2011). Later on, in primary school, problems requiring to transform one state
into another, such as the Tower of Hanoi (Fireman 1996) or the Tower of London (Albert
and Steinberg 2011), are good examples.

Planning may also profit from working on problems with multiple solutions or
impossible problems. Specifically, working on problems which have multiple solutions
enables children to shift between different ways of representing the final goal (the outcome
space of the problem) and different methods for reaching the goal (the methods space).
Tsamir et al. (2010) showed that even kindergarten children can be educated to conceive of
multiple solutions in simple mathematical problems (e.g., imagining alternative ways of
equally distributing a set of objects in two equal subsets). Stein and Burchartz (2009)
presented a series of impossible geometrical puzzles of increasing complexity. These
problems force students to consider alternative goals or alternative solution plans, evaluate
them against each other, and establish logically the relations between alternative solutions
or the impossibility of reaching a solution.

In secondary school, students must learn that problem solving in real life often involves
hierarchies of problems that are embedded in each other so that a major or a final aim may
be achieved (Jonassen 2000, 2003). For example, a strategic problem (e.g., reduce pollution
in an area) may require solving a series of complex understanding problems (e.g., about air
circulation, energy transfer, etc.), and each of these may require solving domain-specific
reasoning problems (e.g., causality relations, mathematical estimations of relations,
categorization of effects, etc.). Once solved, the problem may be transformed into a policy
problem (e.g., how to change customs and behaviors in the society) and a story problem (e.g.,
how to convey the message about these changes). The students must be given the opportunity to
think on and assemble complex hierarchical problems where hierarchies are embedded into
each other. Working on problems of this kind may enable students to differentiate between the
various cognitive systems and processes activated in problem solving (e.g., representing goal
stacks, building relevant mental models, calling upon knowledge from memory or books,
evaluating models and knowledge by reasoning, choosing between solutions, etc.).

Educating the self-awareness loop

Learning to learn requires awareness and control of the learning process so that it takes
place at the right pace, it is geared on the demands of the task at hand, it can bypass
possible processing and representational limitations by properly arranging the material to be
learned, it judiciously uses relevant prior knowledge to enhance new learning, and it
ensures that learning will endure. Therefore, at a basic level, learning to learn requires
understanding of the role of the fundamental knowledge extraction and processing
mechanisms. Namely, that control of attention is crucial for intake of relevant information,
that rehearsal and association are crucial to establish the necessary connections and protect

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 645

information from forgetting, and that self-testing is important to check if learning did occur.
Learning to learn also requires an awareness of motivational and personality dispositions
which are related to learning and relevant self-regulation skills that would maximize
support and minimize hindrance to learning. Below, we will elaborate on interventions
directed to improve knowing one’s own mind and to the use of assessment for the sake of
learning to learn.

Learning to learn: knowing one’s own mind and dispositions

Learning to learn may be enhanced if students understand the organization and functioning
of the mind. This would enable students to differentiate the handling of information coming
from different systems. For example, mental images are more easily represented and
preserved in working memory than abstract expressions in mathematics (Rasmussen and
Bisanz 2005). Therefore, more rehearsal may be needed to process and remember
mathematical representations as compared with mental images. Moreover, if students
understand that all domains deliver their representations to a common limited representa-
tional space, they may become able to notice factors in the target concept, such as the
organization or quantity of information, that cause difficulties in its representation and
processing. For instance, realizing that working on too many relations at a time may
jeopardize understanding might enable the student, if necessary, to reorganize and re-chunk
information so that relations are gradually constructed within the range of one’s own
representational and processing capacity. Moreover, if students have an accurate self-
representation of their own strengths and weaknesses in concern to different domains, they
may be able to differentiate their strategies for handling learning according to domain. For
example, being strong or expert in a domain allows for faster processing of larger chunks of
information than in domains where one is weak, which would require slower processing
and more rehearsal (Gobet 1998).

Education for learning to learn should be adapted to the needs of different developmental
phases. Infants are not explicitly aware of learning and mental processing. Therefore,
educating learning to learn in infancy can only be indirect, aiming to make the infant realize
that different approaches to solving a problem may lead to different information. For
example, leading the infant to compare alternative ways of using a particular tool, such as a
key, may show her that each way has a different implication, such as hindering or opening
access to a different view or different objects. Imitation may be a powerful means for
learning to learn at this phase. For instance, comparing one’s own and an adult’s way of
using a tool and then imitating the adult may raise the infant’s awareness of her own
behavior and enhance self-monitoring and self-regulation as such.

Preschoolers have a limited representational capacity, a limited understanding of
representation as a means for bypassing representational capacity limitations, and a
limited command of representational aids, such as writing and note taking. This makes
the learning of complex tasks at this phase of life very difficult. Some of the
difficulties may be ameliorated if the children are aware that using representational
aids may compensate for the other difficulties. For example, when working on a task
with multiple solutions (e.g., Tsamir et al. 2010), preschoolers may be instructed to use
scripts (e.g., specific signs on a paper) or real objects as tokens of the solutions generated
up to a point. This approach, in addition to facilitating learning and problem solving as
such, enables children to know the advantages and limitations of representation as a
mental modeling function. Also, it brings to focus metarepresentation as the represen-
tation (e.g., the signs or token objects used) of representations (each solution) that can

646 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

help one handle the difficulties of the problem-solving or the learning process. Obviously,
this approach is useful for later phases as well.

In line with the approach above, Zelazo (2011) suggests that mindfulness training from
preschool years enhances self-monitoring skills which in turn enhance executive control
thereby improving learning. Mindfulness training at this age would involve raising
awareness of self by systematically shifting attention to different sensory experiences, such
as visual and auditory, and examining how they affect thought. For example, when a child
looks at apples she thinks about apples and when she looks at pears she thinks about pears;
however, when thinking about the mother while looking at apples, she may not “see”
changes in the number of apples and thought may alternate between the mother and the
apples. Flook et al. (2010) showed that training of this kind improves self-regulation and
executive control significantly, especially in children who are not strong in this regard.

Primary school children still do not clearly differentiate between cognitive functions, nor
do they understand the learning effects of different cognitive functions or activities. For
instance, at this age, they may be deceived that what is in their eyes is also in their mind.
Likewise, they may be deceived that what is in short-term-memory is also in long-term
memory. That is, they think that they will remember something later on and be able to recall
it simply because they understand it when it is in front of them or when they have just
formulated a representation of it (Flavell et al. 1995, 1997). It is to be noted that these
weaknesses coincide with the years of primary school that is a period of intensive formal
learning of new concepts and skills, such as reading, writing, arithmetic, science, etc.

Therefore, at primary school, education must focus on building awareness of the
differences between mental functions and of their differential impact on learning. Moreover,
it must focus on bridging activities with different mental functions and aspects of learning.
For instance, children must realize that recall of information from memory and its
connection with what is in front of their eyes facilitates understanding of new information.
In turn, they must realize through practice that rehearsal facilitates storage of new
information in long-term memory for later use and that this may be tested by asking
questions to themselves (Dehn 2008). Building associations and relating new with prior
knowledge helps learning, but variation and differentiation helps originality in problem
solving (Glassner and Schwarz 2007; Siegler 1996; Simonton 2000).

In adolescence, self-awareness gradually becomes process-driven and executive inhibition is
intertwined with the suppositional stance associated with conditional representations. This
allows problem solving to become planful and systematic. Moreover, the self-concept becomes
dimensionalized and generally accurate. By middle adolescence, students start to differentiate
between the cognitive processes involved in different kinds of knowledge and activities, such as
mathematics vs. physics, they know where they are strong at and where they are weak at, and
they can plan their problem-solving activities from the start so that they can seek information
when and where it is needed and integrate it into their current problem-solving endeavors
(Demetriou 2000; Demetriou and Kazi 2001, 2006).

Education for learning to learn at this phase should focus on awareness of the differences
between cognitive domains in the mental processes they involve and in how they relate to
their world domains. That is, the individual should be able to recognize and understand the
formal relations between constructs, in the first case, and evaluate the consistency between
a model and reality, in the second case. For example, they may be guided to grasp the
differences between formal disciplines, such as mathematics, and empirical disciplines,
such as physics, in knowledge construction. Therefore, planning requires different
approaches in the two cases. In the first case, it requires exhaustive search of the logical
relations between premises and presuppositions. In the second case, it requires a conception

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 647

of the world as suggested by a model, the specification of the steps needed to produce
crucial evidence, and the realization of these steps through the necessary actions.

Finally, students must understand that it is better for future performance and learning to
metarepresent the processes activated or the solutions reached. On the one hand, science is
a vast universe of representations about the world and metarepresentations specifying what
the representations mean, why, how, and when they may be changed (van Fraassen 2010).
On the other hand, classrooms are representational and metarepresentational laboratories.
One of the aims of education is to gradually bring the representational and metarepresentational
systems of the individual as close as possible to the representational and metarerepresentational
systems of science. This is a double-faced process. On the one hand, inducing students to the
representational andmetarepresentational nature of science facilitates domain-specific learning.
For example, Nesher and Sukenik (1991) showed that the learning of mathematical relations
(i.e., ratios and proportions) is most enhanced when the learning experiences provided in the
experiment were paired with relevant formal representations. These representations enabled
the subjects to summarize and manipulate their learning experiences. On the other hand, it
enhances the development and flexibility of general patterns of thought and the development
of a general modeling ability that is associated with a general LOT because it enables students
to work out the relations between different representational systems and metarepresent them
(diSessa 2004; Yerushalmy 1997). In Carey’s (2009) terms, newly acquired symbols function
as placeholders which are gradually filled in with meaning through the mechanisms discussed
above. To support metarepresentation and facilitate the emergence of general problem-solving
strategies and reasoning patterns from domain-specific learning, teaching must continually
raise awareness in students of what may be abstracted from any particular domain-specific
learning. Moreover, students must be facilitated to map representations from different
domains onto each other and tag new constructs with new representations that will enable
them to mentally recall, manipulate, and relate the new representations with others already in
existence (Dixon et al. 2010).

Assessment for learning and learning to learn

Assessment in education is crucial for learning because it informs the learner for possible
divergences between learning goals and outcomes. It is beyond the aims of the present
article to embark on the vast literature on assessment in education. It is to be noted,
however, that theories of cognitive development are recognized as potentially useful frames
for the development of assessment methods that would be valuable for learning and
instruction. Unfortunately, however, very few attempts have been made to highlight how
cognitive development theory and research can inform educational assessment (Ercikan
2006). The model of mind proposed here offers a full framework for assessment that would
be very useful for learning in the school.

Here, we try to show how assessment in education can facilitate students to (1) enhance
their knowledge of their own mind; (2) sharpen their self-monitoring, self-representation,
and self-regulation skills; and (3) make them aware of their strengths and weakness in the
various components of the mind and the different domains of knowledge. These provisions
are in line with the aims of formative assessment or assessment for learning, which aims to
make students owners of their own learning (Black and Wiliam 2009). In terms of the
present theory, assessment must first of all enable the students to recognize the sources of
difficulty in understanding a concept or solving a problem and assist them in developing
strategies for overcoming them. The ultimate aim is to make assessment a powerful tool of
metarepresentation.

648 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

Difficulty may arise from any component of the architecture of mind proposed here. For
example, students evaluate or tag problems or concepts as difficult if they cannot make
sense of them in reference to prior relevant knowledge. Difficulty also arises from conflicts
or inconsistencies between the concepts to be learned and those already possessed.
Assessment here must highlight what is lacking and direct the student to search for
necessary knowledge and use it for the sake of the problem at hand. Search must be both
self-directed (Do I know something similar? Have I solved problems like this in the past?)
and directed to external sources of knowledge (asking others, searching for similar
problems in books or others sources, etc.). In the case of conflict or inconsistency between
concepts, assessment must direct the student to notice the superiority of the new concepts to
explicate the phenomena of interest. For example, why is the heliocentric model of our
planetary system superior to the geocentric model.

Problems are also difficult for students if the amount or the presentation rate of
information exceeds the available representational or processing resources. Assessment
here must make the students sensitive to their representational and processing
limitations. Exposing the students to a range of concepts or problems of varying
complexity or presentation rate in order to make them sense the “personal point of
command” can serve this purpose. This kind of assessment must be associated with
instruction directed to build the necessary skills for bringing the problem back to the
personal point of command. These skills are related to the building of the executive
processes mentioned above (Brown 1987).

A third source of difficulty resides in the inferential processes themselves. That is, if the
concept or problem to be dealt with involves relations that require inferential schemes that
are not available, such as dealing with the fallacies, the crucial relations will not be worked
out. Assessment here must highlight the inferential schemes missing and practice the
student in their use.

Finally, difficulty and limited success in learning may come from inaccurate self-
evaluation of performance. As shown above, self-evaluation of problem solving is
moderated by a personal constant that is characteristic of the individual and is stable
through the years. When inaccurate, self-evaluation may cause students to abandon a
learning task because it is judged too difficult or terminate an attempt because it is
unjustifiably judged to be successful. Inaccurate self-evaluations may even deceive the
teachers themselves, thereby hindering them to provide to the student the assistance
needed for a learning task. Therefore, assessment for learning to learn must help the
students calibrate, so to speak, their personal constant to their actual ability and
performance in a given domain. This calibration would require tasks where the
students are asked to evaluate their performance and compare their evaluations with
the evaluations of their teachers and other students (Harter 1999). The aim would be
twofold in this regard. On the one hand, the students must acquire awareness of their
overall self-evaluation trends: i.e., if they tend to be lenient, strict, or accurate. This
awareness should include the cognitive (e.g., impulsivity and limited planning, limited or
inappropriate mental modeling for solutions, lack of domain-specific criteria or standards
for what is right and wrong, etc.) and motivational and emotional aspects of self-
evaluation (e.g., fear of failure and criticism, anxiety, avoidance, etc.). On the other hand,
students should acquire the self-monitoring and self-regulation skills that would improve
the accuracy of their self-evaluations. The suggestions advanced above about educating
the various aspects of problem solving and critical thinking are relevant here.
Understanding the long-term value of self-evaluation for social standing and emotional
stability must be part of education for accurate self-evaluation.

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 649

Critical thinking, epistemological awareness, and creativity

Critical thinking has been a privileged topic of discussions in pedagogy and philosophy of
education since a long time ago (Ennis 1962, 1996; Siegel 1988, 1989a, b). The main line
of argument is that the development of critical thinking must be one of the main aims of
education. Definitions vary, but there is consensus that critical thinking involves inference,
recognition of assumptions, deduction, interpretation, and evaluation of arguments. Critical
thinkers exhibit open-mindedness, tolerance of ambiguity, and a skeptical, questioning
attitude (Bernard et al. 2008). Moreover, critical thinking includes the ability to (1)
identify central issues and assumptions; (2) envisage alternative models; (3) associate
each model with its own supportive evidence and logical substantiation; (4) embed each
model into its own conceptual or belief system; (5) identify logical flaws in arguments,
descriptions, or explications; and (6) adopt an informed preference based on evidence or
argumentation (e.g., Ennis 1987; Furedy and Furedy 1985; Pascarella and Terenzin 2005;
Watson and Glaser 1980).

From the point of view of the present theory, conceptual change, reasoning development,
learning to learn, and critical thinking are complementary aspects of cognitive development
and learning. Specifically, the very process of constructing and evaluating mental models
for the sake of grasping target concepts and problem-solving skills may become a powerful
field for the development of critical thinking. Envisaging, comparing, substantiating,
debating, and choosing among alternative models, if properly directed, may enhance
awareness of the role of evidence and logical and conceptual substantiation for alternative
models. Siegel (1989a) suggests that for this to be possible, critical thinking must be
embedded in a context of epistemological understanding. This is so because critical
thinking presupposes particular answers to important epistemological questions (e.g., what
is truth, what is evidence, what is reason or cause, what is more important, reason or
evidence etc.). These questions are systematically answered in the context of different fields
of knowledge, and thus the thinker can be critical if she is aware of the answers given to
these questions so that she knows how and where to frame her analysis and arguments.
Thus, epistemology is basic both to critical thinking and to its pedagogy. Understanding of
the fundamental epistemological assumptions of the three main realms of human
knowledge—that is, natural sciences, social sciences, and humanities—becomes a
condition for critical thinking.

Educating for critical thinking must take into account the strengths and weakness of
successive developmental phases. Thus, we propose that teaching for critical thinking must
proceed by capitalizing on the worldview that is prevailing during each developmental
milestone. The ultimate aim would be to enable the developing person to realize the
knowledge, understanding, and decision-making limitations of each phase and gradually
build up a comprehensive approach to knowledge acquisition and problem solving where
information processing is a means to the end of understanding, reasoning is a tool for
evaluation and analysis, and rationality is integrative judgment that bridges multiple frames
and points of view (Jacobs and Klaczynski 2002).

In preschool, children must overcome the absolutist stance of this age phase that
knowledge is either right or wrong. An example would be to make them realize that the
knowledge of all three different children about an object (e.g., that it is red, and green, and
blue) is right, depending on each child’s perspective (i.e., because each of the three sides of
the object is differently colored). In primary school, children must realize that the
representations associated with each perspective are integrated by inference which gives
them coherence and logicality, given the initial assumptions. Moreover, they must be

650 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

gradually introduced to an epistemological approach to knowledge that would allow them
to understand that the knowledge generated by different knowledge extraction mechanisms,
such as observation and experiment, may differ in accuracy and validity, depending upon
how well confounding factors are controlled by each. The adolescent and the college
student must recognize that alternative approaches to knowledge, such as the three major
realms of knowledge, or different epistemological traditions about knowledge, such as
realism and relativism, may be equally acceptable depending upon the person’s original
stance to knowledge. For example, one is a realist if one believes, as scientists do, that there
is truth about the world which can be approached through appropriate scientific methods.
Distance from truth is only a matter of appropriateness and precision of methods and
ingenuity of controls, which they improve with accretion of knowledge in time. One is a
relativist if one believes that there is no single truth about a phenomenon and knowledge is
a function of approach, perspective, or conviction. Adolescents must gradually become
familiar with the fact that one’s epistemological stance defines one’s interpretation and even
handling of knowledge (Chandler et al. 2002; Wildenger et al. 2010). Moreover, critical
thinking includes the skills necessary for the students to know themselves so that they
orient themselves to the directions that are most suitable not only to them but also for their
group. Critical thinkers are the citizens who can make choices for their own benefit and the
benefit of society. Obviously, nothing can compensate for actual experience, but studying
cases and alternative scenarios might be helpful in increasing awareness about the value of
logic, knowledge, experience, and learning for wise and useful decision making.

Creativity is a fast developing area of research and educational practice (Runco and
Pritzker 1999; Sternberg 1999, 2005), which is not the focus of this essay. It needs to be
briefly associated, however, with the present theory. From our point of view, creativity
comes at the intersection of the problem-solving and the self-awareness and self-control
loops and requires critical thought as a tool. Specifically, creativity is an approach to
problem solving that systematically aims for solutions that are different from and/or better
than earlier ones. This requires that problem-solving goals are contrastively specified in
reference to earlier solutions so that a new solution integrates additive advantages or
differences relative to earlier ones. In turn, this requires embedding problem solving in (1) a
social and cultural context, where solutions are evaluated for their use and usefulness, and
(2) a historical and epistemological context where advantages and disadvantages of
solutions are specified relative to the historical, social, cognitive, and technical constrains
related to their production.

Under this perspective, education for creativity is a long-term process that co-extends
with the course of development described here. In infancy, education must enable the infant
to see that alternative solutions to a problem may differ in their usefulness and
completeness relative particular needs. In primary education, education may start focusing
on the planning process of problem solving in order to enable the child to see that variations
in the specification of the goal and the relative mental modeling required to plan solutions
may lead to different solutions. That is, education for creativity must be an integral part of
the education of problem solving as described above. In adolescence, in addition to refining
problem-solving processes as above, education must familiarize the adolescent with how
creativity may be practiced in different fields. That is, that in addition to the common
processes that are required for creative accomplishments, different fields may have different
standards or criteria for what is a creative solution or idea. In college, education should
enable the students to relate their creative endeavors with the value and relevance of
solutions vis-à-vis their historical, cultural, social, economic, technological, and disciplinary
contexts. Finally, education for creativity must enable the person to value cooperation with

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 651

other persons as conducive for creativity and aesthetic criteria as important for the quality
and acceptance for the solutions to be produced.

Conclusions

We attempted to show that an educationally useful theory of the developing mind is
possible. This theory integrates constructs from developmental, cognitive, and differential
psychology. The main postulates of the theory can be summarized as follows:

There are general mechanisms of intelligence. These include general processing
efficiency functions that enable humans to represent and process information, general
inferential process underlying processing, and self-awareness, self-regulation, and reflection,
directing and transforming processing. General mechanisms and possibilities coexist with, and
are expressed through, a number of specialized domains of thought that capture different types
of relations in the environment. Mental operations in the domains are knowledge extraction
mechanisms whose products intermingle to generate knowledge domains, as we know them in
the history of culture, science, and education.

These functions change with age, and their changes are reflected in changes in the
quality of understanding and problem solving. In turn, these qualitative changes are
expressed through particular world views that define a series of developmental milestones
and are associated with an increasingly expanding language of thought. With age, there is a
gradual shift of importance from knowledge representation and handling mechanisms to
knowledge as such.

Individual differences in the state of the general efficiency factors and the condition of
the domains cause differences in the rate of intellectual development both within and across
individuals. Differences across individuals are reflected in psychometric measures of
cognitive ability, such as the IQ tests. Moreover, these differences may come from
differences in the predispositions or facility of different persons in the various domains.
Differences in experience in different domains may be related to both intra- and inter-individual
differences in performance and developmental rate.

Education can capitalize on this model. The main implications can be summarized as
follows:

At any phase, education must lead the student to develop and refine the following cognitive
skills: focus on relevant information; scan, compare, and choose according to goal; ignore
irrelevant information; represent what is chosen and associate with extant knowledge; bind into
models and rehearse if necessary; evaluate models in reference to evidence; reason by
deduction to evaluate truth and validity of models and conclusions; prefer solutions that are
better or nicer than extant solutions; estimate consistency with beliefs, extant theories,
dominant views, etc; and encode, symbolize, and embed into the system. Being aware of
epistemological issues concerning the similarities and differences between disciplines is an
important part of education for critical thinking and creative thinking.

These general educational goals must be tuned to the developmental possibilities and
constraints of successive developmental phases. The general rules that may govern this
tuning are as follows: (1) Educational priorities must capitalize on developmental
milestones to make education feel relevant, appropriate, and useful for each phase of life.
(2) Organization and presentation rate of material to be learned must take representational
capacity and processing efficiency into account in order to make learning possible and
powerful at every phase. (3) Education must practice, consolidate, and build models for
core and mental operators in each SSS because they function as knowledge extraction

652 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

mechanisms; their efficiency influences the quality of information that is generated and fed
into the system. With age, emphasis should shift from educating mental operations to
knowledge as such. Students must be induced into theme- or concept-appropriate models of
the fields of interest, such as gravity, inheritance, motion, etc. Teaching must lead the
students to understand where and why these models are better than their own respective
concepts or models. (4) In the process, special attention should be given to the lifting of
inference from automatic (system 1) to analytic (system 2) functioning. Decontextualization
of inference from content and context is important in this process. (5) Problem solving
involves all of the processes above, and it should be demonstrated and practiced as such.
Students must be educated in foresight, anticipation, and formulation of alternative plans
for problems. Moreover, with age, knowledge and context are increasingly important for
successful, acceptable, and creative problem solving. (6) Finally, students must know
themselves: the organization and functioning of their own mind, their own strengths and
weakness, and how to adjust their actions and learning accordingly.

One might object that our approach to education devolves into a readiness notion where
nothing is taught on a subject until the mind is “ready” and that nothing is done to facilitate
or accelerate development. In Piaget’s (1980) words, this is “the American question.” For
one thing, in developmental terms, consolidating the constructions of each phase facilitates
the earlier transition to the next phase. In psychometric terms, this approach augments g.
Therefore, it makes learning self-expansive by definition. For another, our approach is
person-centered in the sense that it supports the weaker students to build the capacities they
are weak on and opens the way for the stronger students to capitalize on their strengths and
move faster in the construction of new knowledge and skills.

It may be noted here that the gap in academic achievement that is observed in many
countries between privileged and underprivileged children, such as the Black–White gap in
the USA (Sackett et al. 2001), can be associated with lack of school readiness upon entry to
school. Moreover, relative age effects are ubiquitous. They exist in every classroom and
every grade. These influence the rate of learning in future grades, causing the gap to
become increasingly bigger (Hunt 2011). Therefore, education designed on the basis of the
principles proposed here may protect children, especially those at risk, from the problems
they face later on when learning becomes more demanding. As it builds up, it frees students
from their weakness because it strengthens intelligence as much as knowledge and learning.

The so-called Flynn effect is the systematic increase in intelligence test scores over the
last century. Flynn (2009) ascribed this increase to two main factors. The increasing
pressure for abstract thought that is required by our increasingly symbolic technological
environment and the increasing expansion of education. This is fully compatible with the
present theory: These changes in human culture affect, unsystematically, the two main loops
of intellectual functioning described here which underlie performance on intelligence tests.
At the same time, we predict that systematizing education according to the theory presented
here will further accelerate the Flynn effect.

Concerning general issues about educational policies and orientations, the model
suggests that plain constructivism, which dominated in discussions about educational
priorities since the 1980s, is not enough for efficient education. In addition to self-directed
activity and discovery, guided abstraction, representation, and meterepresentation are very
important for stable learning and learning transfer. Epistemological awareness and
understanding of social and historical relevance of knowledge and knowledge production
mechanisms are very important for the proper and constructive functioning of the student as
a citizen. Therefore, education must induce the student into the origins, nuances, and
possible effects of the historical, cultural, social, and disciplinary frames of knowledge.

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 653

Teachers operate in a vast field of intra- and inter-individual differences. Therefore,
curriculum, instruction methods, and moment-to-moment teaching must adapt to
different students and to different subject matters. It is reminded that students who are
weak in processing efficiency need more help and support to learn. The implications
of this suggest the development and use of appropriate diagnostic tools and the
continuous and effective education of the teachers. After all, democratic education
must lead each student as close as possible to his or her potential across the board at
successive developmental phases.

It is obvious that the realization of the educational implications of the theory discussed
here requires extensive changes in a number of domains that are relevant but distinct from
education as such. First, it requires the development of new curricula and teaching content
in different school subjects that would match the priorities and goals discussed here, from
preschool to senior high school and college. Obviously, this requires the support of policy-
making officials, including governments, academic bodies, and educational administrators.
Second, the education of the teachers themselves is very important. Teachers must
understand the processes and dynamics of mental processing, development, learning, and
intra- and inter-individual differences in all of these aspects of the mind in the same way
that medical doctors understand the processes and the dynamics of human body, its
chemistry and genetics, and its change over time. Therefore, programs of study at the
university must be organized so that the relevant knowledge and skills are available to the
teacher upon graduation. Finally, the advantages of modern technology, including computer,
virtual reality, and Internet technology, must be fully employed and incorporated in the
learning procedure. For instance, modern computers and virtual reality systems may enable
students to have access to and study the complex phenomena that go beyond direct
experience, such as the structure of matter, the DNA, or the Universe, that go much beyond
anything that the educational technology of the near past could support. This technology
can also be used to practice practically every skill and ability discussed here. Learning
scientists, computer scientists, teachers, subjects specialists, and industry should cooperate
to transform these possibilities into special learning environments.

Obviously, we have a long way to go until the vision of education drawn here becomes a
reality in all of its elements. We hope that this essay will open a constructive discussion that
will lead us close.

Acknowledgments Special thanks are due to the following colleagues for reading and commenting upon
the ideas advanced in an earlier version of this paper: Lorin Anderson, Erik De Corte, David Olson, Howard
Gardner, Jarkko Hautamaki, Earl Hunt, Karin Bakracevic, Mary Koutselini, David Moshman, Willis Overton,
Robert Ricco, Gabi Salomon, Michael Shayer, Leslie Smith, Timos Papadopoulos, Stella Vosniadou, and two
anonymous reviewers.

Open Access This article is distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution
Noncommercial License which permits any noncommercial use, distribution, and reproduction in any
medium, provided the original author(s) and source are credited.

References

Ackerman, P. L. (1996). A theory of adult intellectual development: Personality, interests, and knowledge.
Intelligence, 22, 227–257.

Ackerman, P. L. (2000). Domain-specific knowledge as the “dark matter” of adult intelligence: Gf/Gc,
personality, and interests correlates. Journal of Gerontology: Psychological Sciences, 55B, 69–84.

654 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

Albert, D., & Steinberg, L. (2011). Age differences in strategic planning as indexed by the Tower of London.
Child Development, XX, 1–17.

Anderson, L. W. (1985). Time and timing. In C. W. Fisher & D. C. Berliner (Eds.), Perspectives on
instructional time (pp. 157–168). London: Longman.

Anderson, L. W., Krathwohl, D. R., Airasian, P. W., Cruikshank, K. A., Mayer, R. E., Pintrich, P. R., et al.
(2001). A taxonomy for learning, teaching, and assessing: A revision of Bloom’s taxonomy of educational
objectives. New York: Longman.

Artman, L., Cahan, S., & Avni-Babad, D. (2006). Age, schooling and conditional reasoning. Cognitive
Development, 21, 131–145.

Baars, B. J. (2002). The conscious access hypothesis: Origins and recent evidence. Trends in Cognitive
Sciences, 6, 47–52.

Baars, B. J., & Franklin, S. (2003). How conscious experience and working memory interact. Trends in
Cognitive Sciences, 7, 166–172.

Baddeley, A. D. (1990). Human memory: Theory and practice. Hillsdale: Lawrence Erlbaum.
Baddeley, A. D. (2000). The episodic buffer: A new component of working memory? Trends in Cognitive

Sciences, 4, 417–423.
Baltes, P. B., & Staudinger, U. M. (2000). Wisdom: A metaheuristic (pragmatic) to orchestrate mind and

virtue toward excellence. American Psychologist, 55, 122–137.
Barouillet, P., Portrat, S., & Camos, V. (2011). On the law relating processing to storage in working memory.

Psychological Review, 118, 175–192.
Barrouillet, P. (1997). Modifying the representation of if … then sentences in adolescents by inducing a

structure mapping strategy. Current Psychology of Cognition, 16, 609–637.
Barrouillet, P., Grosset, N., & Lecas, J.-F. (2000). Conditional reasoning by mental models: Chronometric and

developmental evidence. Cognition, 75, 237–266.
Barrouillet, P., Gauffroy, C., & Lecas, J.-F. (2008). Mental models and the suppositional account of

conditionals. Psychological Review, 115, 760–771.
Basseches, M. (1984). Dialectical thinking and adult development. New York: Ablex.
Bernard, R. M., Zhang, D., Abrami, P. C., Sicoly, F., Borokhovski, E., & Surkes, M. A. (2008). Exploring the

structure of the Watson–Glaser Critical Thinking Appraisal: One scale or many subscales? Thinking
Skills and Creativity, 3, 15–22.

Black, P., & Wiliam, D. (2009). Developing the theory of formative assessment. Educational Assessment,
Evaluation and Accountability, 21, 5–13.

Blair, C. (2006). How similar are fluid cognition and general intelligence? A developmental neuroscience
perspective on fluid cognition as an aspect of human cognitive ability. The Behavioral and Brain
Sciences, 29, 109–160.

Blaser, E., & Kaldy, Z. (2010). Infants get five starts on iconic memory: A partial-report test of 6-month-old
infants’ iconic memory capacity. Psychological Science, 21, 1643–1645.

Braine, M. D. S. (1990). The “natural logic” approach to reasoning. In W. F. Overton (Ed.), Reasoning,
necessity, and logic: Developmental perspectives (pp. 133–157). Hillsdale: Lawrence Erlbaum.

Brown, R. (1968). The development of Wh questions in child speech. Journal of Verbal Learning and Verbal
Behavior, 7, 279–290.

Brown, A. L. (1987). Metacognition, executive control, self-regulation, and other more mysterious
mechanisms. In F. E. Weinert & R. H. Kluwe (Eds.), Metacognition, motivation, and understanding
(pp. 65–116). Hillsdale: Lawrence Erlbaum.

Buschkuehl, M., & Jaeggi, S. M. (2010). Improving intelligence: A literature review. Swiss Medical Weekly,
140, 266–272.

Butterworth, G. (1998). Origins of joint visual attention in infancy: Commentary on Carpenter et al.
Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 63(4), 144–166.

Camos, V., & Barrouillet, P. (2011). Developmental changes in working memory strategies: From passive
maintenance to active refreshing. Developmental Psychology, 47, 898–904.

Campbell, F. A., & Burchinal, M. R. (2008). Early childhood interventions: The Abecedarian Project. In P. C.
Kyllonen, R. D. Roberts, & L. Stankov (Eds.), Extending intelligence: Enhancement and new constructs
(pp. 61–83). New York: Lawrence Erlbaum.

Carey, S. (1985). Conceptual change in childhood. Boston: The MIT Press.
Carey, S. (2009). The origins of concepts. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Carroll, J. B. (1993). Human cognitive abilities: A survey of factor-analytic studies. New York: Cambridge

University Press.
Case, R. (1985). Intellectual development: Birth to adulthood. New York: Academic.
Case, R. (1992). The mind’s staircase: Exploring the conceptual underpinnings of children’s thought and

knowledge. Hillsdale: Lawrence Erlbaum.

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 655

Case, R., & Okamoto, Y. (Eds). (1996). The role of central conceptual structures in the development of
children’s thought. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 61 (Serial No. 246).

Case, R., Okamoto, Y., Griffin, S., McKeough, A., Bleiker, C., Henderson, B., & Stephenson, K. M. (1996).
The role of central conceptual structures in the development of children’s thought. Monographs of the
Society for Research in Child Development, 61 (17–2, Serial No. 246).

Case, R., Demetriou, A., Platsidou, M., & Kazi, S. (2001). Integrating concepts and tests of intelligence from
the differential and the developmental traditions. Intelligence, 29, 307–336.

Cattell, R. B. (1963). Theory of fluid and crystallized intelligence: A critical experiment. Journal of
Educational Psychology, 54, 1–22.

Ceci, S. (1991). How much does schooling influence general intelligence and its cognitive components?
Developmental Psychology, 27, 703–722.

Chandler, M. J., Hallett, D., & Sokol, B. W. (2002). Competing claims about competing knowledge domains.
In B. K. Hofer & P. R. Pintrich (Eds.), Personal epistemology: The psychology of beliefs about
knowledge and knowing (pp. 145–168). Mahwah: Lawrence Erlbaum.

Cheng, P. W., & Holyoak, K. J. (1985). Pragmatic reasoning schemas. Cognitive Psychology, 17, 391–416.
Christoforides, M. (2010). The development of hypothetico-deductive thought in primary school children:

Implications of an intervention program (Unpublished doctoral dissertation). University of Cyprus,
Nicosia, Cyprus.

Cleeremans, A. (2008). Consciousness: The radical plasticity thesis. In R. Banerjee & B. K. Chakrabarti
(Eds.), Progress in brain research (Vol. 168, pp. 19–33). Amsterdam: Elsevier.

Cobley, S., McKenna, J., Baker, J., & Wattie, N. (2009). How pervasive are relative age effects in secondary
school education? Journal of Educational Psychology, 101, 520–528.

Cole, R. L., & Pickering, S. J. (2010). Phonological and visual similarity effects in Chinese and English
language users: Implications for the use of cognitive resources in short-term memory. Bilingualism:
Language and Cognition, 13, 499–512.

Colom, R., Rebollo, I., Palacios, A., Juan-Espinosa, M., & Kyllonen, P. (2004). Working memory is (almost)
perfectly predicted by g. Intelligence, 32, 277–296.

Commons, M. L., Richards, F. A., & Kuhn, D. (1982). Systematic and metasystematic reasoning: A case for
a level of reasoning beyond Piaget’s formal operations. Child Development, 53, 1058–1069.

Conway, A. R. A., Cowan, N., Bunting, M. F., Therriault, D. J., & Minkoff, S. R. B. (2002). A latent variable
analysis of working memory capacity, short term memory capacity, processing speed, and general fluid
intelligence. Intelligence, 30, 163–183.

Cosmides, L., & Tooby, J. (1994). Origins of domain-specificity: The evolution of functional organization. In
L. Hirschfeld & S. Gelman (Eds.), Mapping the mind: Domain-specificity in cognition and culture (pp.
85–119). New York: Cambridge University Press.

Cowan, N. (2010). The magical mystery four: How is working memory capacity limited and why? Current
Directions in Psychological Science, 19, 51–57.

Crits-Christoph, P., & Singer, J. L. (1981). Imagery in cognitive-behavior therapy: Research and application.
Clinical Psychology Review, 1, 19–32.

Dalke, D. E. (1998). Charting the development of representational skills: When do children know that maps
can lead and mislead? Cognitive Development, 13, 53–72.

Daniel, D. B., & Klaczynski, P. A. (2006). Developmental and individual differences in conditional
reasoning: Effects of logic instructions and alternative antecedents. Child Development, 77, 339–
354.

Davidson, M. C., Amso, D., Anderson, L. C., & Diamond. (2006). Development of cognitive control and
executive functions from 4 to 13 years: Evidence from manipulations of memory, inhibition, and task
switching. Neuropsychologia, 44, 2037–2078.

Dawson, T. L. (2006). Stage-like patterns in the development of conceptions of energy. In X. Liu & W. Boone
(Eds.), Applications of Rasch measurement in science education (pp. 111–136). Maple Grove: JAM
Press.

Deary, I. J. (2000). Looking down on human intelligence. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Deary, I. J., Strand, S., Smith, P., & Fernandes, C. (2007). Intelligence and educational achievement.

Intelligence, 35, 13–21.
Dehaene, S. (1997). The number sense: How the mind creates mathematics. New York: Oxford University

Press.
Dehn, M. J. (2008). Working memory and academic learning: Assessment and intervention. Hoboken: Wiley.
DeLoache, J. S. (1991). Symbolic functioning in very young children: Understanding of pictures and models.

Child Development, 62, 736–752.
DeLoache, J. S. (1995). Early understanding of the use of symbols. Current Directions in Psychological

Science, 4, 109–113.

656 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

DeLoache, J. S. (2000). Dual representation and young children’s use of scale models. Child Development,
71, 329–338.

DeLoache, J. S., & Burns, N. M. (1994). Early understanding of the representational function of pictures.
Cognition, 52, 83–110.

Demetriou, A. (Ed.). (1988). The neo-Piagetian theories of cognitive development: Toward an integration.
Amsterdam: North-Holland.

Demetriou, A. (1998). Cognitive development. In A. Demetriou, W. Doise, & K. F. M. van Lieshout (Eds.),
Life-span developmental psychology (pp. 179–269). London: Wiley.

Demetriou, A. (2000). Organization and development of self-understanding and self-regulation: Toward a
general theory. In M. Boekaerts, P. R. Pintrich, & M. Zeidner (Eds.), Handbook of self-regulation (pp.
209–251). San Diego: Academic.

Demetriou, A. (2002). Tracing psychology’s invisible giant and its visible guards. In R. J. Sternberg & E.
Grigorenko (Eds.), The general factor of intelligence: Fact or fiction? (pp. 3–19). Mahwah: Lawrence
Erlbaum.

Demetriou, A. (2004). Mind, intelligence, and development: Ageneral cognitive, differential, and
developmental theory of the mind. In A. Demetriou & A. Raftopoulos (Eds.), Developmental change:
Theories, models and measurement (pp. 21–73). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Demetriou, A., & Bakracevic, K. (2009). Cognitive development from adolescence to middle age: From
environment-oriented reasoning to social understanding and self-awareness. Learning and Individual
Differences, 19, 181–194.

Demetriou, A., & Efklides, A. (1989). The person’s conception of the structures of developing intellect: Early
adolescence to middle age. Genetic, Social, and General Psychology Monographs, 115, 371–423.

Demetriou, A., & Efklides, A. (1994). Structure, development, and dynamics of developing mind: A meta-
Piagetian theory. In A. Demetriou & A. Efklides (Eds.), Intelligence, mind, and reasoning: Structure and
development (pp. 75–110). Amsterdam: North-Holland.

Demetriou, A., & Kazi, S. (2001). Unity and modularity in the mind and the self: Studies on the relationships
between self-awareness, personality, and intellectual development from childhood to adolescence.
London: Routledge.

Demetriou, A., & Kazi, S. (2006). Self-awareness in g (with processing efficiency and reasoning).
Intelligence, 34, 297–317.

Demetriou, A., & Kyriakides, L. (2006). A Rasch-measurement model analysis of cognitive developmental
sequences: Validating a comprehensive theory of cognitive development. British Journal of Educational
Psychology, 76, 209–242.

Demetriou, A., & Panaoura, R. (2006). Mathematics in the mind: Its place, architecture, and development. In
L. Verschaffel, F. Dochy, M. Boekaerts, & S. Vosniadou (Eds.). Instructional psychology: Past, present
and future trends. Fifteen essays in honor of Erik De Corte (Advances in Learning and Instruction
Series) (pp. 19–38). Amsterdam: Pergamon.

Demetriou, A., & Raftopoulos, A. (1999). Modeling the developing mind: From structure to change.
Developmental Review, 19, 319–368.

Demetriou, A., Gustafsson, J.-E., Efklides, A., & Platsidou, M. (1992). Structural systems in developing
cognition, science, and education. In A. Demetriou, M. Shayer, & A. Efklides (Eds.), Neo-Piagetian theories
of cognitive development: Implications and applications for education (pp. 79–103). London: Routledge.

Demetriou, A., Efklides, A., Platsidou, M. (1993). The architecture and dynamics of developing mind:
Experiential structuralism as a frame for unifying cognitive developmental theories. Monographs of the
Society for Research in Child Development, 58, (Serial No. 234).

Demetriou, A., Christou, C., Spanoudis, G., Platsidou, M. (2002). The development of mental processing:
Efficiency, working memory, and thinking. Monographs of the Society of Research in Child
Development, 67, (Serial No. 268).

Demetriou, A., Kyriakides, L., & Avraamidou, C. (2003). The missing link in the relations between
intelligence and personality. Journal of Research in Personality, 37, 547–581.

Demetriou, A., Zhang, X. K., Spanoudis, G., Christou, C., Kyriakides, L., & Platsidou, M. (2005). The architecture,
dynamics and development of mental processing: Greek, Chinese or universal? Intelligence, 33, 109–141.

Demetriou, A., Mouyi, A., & Spanoudis, G. (2008). Modeling the structure and development of g.
Intelligence, 5, 437–454.

Demetriou, A., Mouyi, A., & Spanoudis, G. (2010a). The development of mental processing. In W. F.
Overton (Ed.), Biology, cognition and methods across the life-span. Vol. 1: Handbook of life-span
development (pp. 306–343). Hoboken: Wiley (Editor-in-chief: R. M. Lerner).

Demetriou, A., Spanoudis, G., & Mouyi, A. (2010b). A three-level model of the developing mind:
Functional and neuronal substantiation. In M. Ferrari & L. Vuletic (Eds.), The Developmental relations
between mind, brain, and education: Essays in honor of Robbie Case (pp. 9–48). New York: Springer.

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 657

Detterman, D. K. (2000). General intelligence and the definition of phenotypes. In G. R. Bock, J. A. Goode,
& K. Webb (Eds.), The nature of intelligence. Novartis Foundation Symposium 233 (pp. 136–148).
Chichester: Wiley.

Dewar, K., & Xu, F. (2010). Induction, overhypothesis, and the origin if abstract knowledge: Evidence from
9-month-old infants. Psychological Science, 21, 1871–1877.

diSessa, A. A. (2004). Metarepresentation: Native competence and targets for instruction. Cognition and
Instruction, 22, 293–331.

Dixon, J. A., Stephen, D. G., Boncoddo, R. A., & Anastas, J. (2010). The self-organization of cognitive
structure. In B. Ross (Ed.), The psychology of learning & motivation (Vol. 52, pp. 343–384). San Diego:
Elsevier.

Duncan, J. (2010). How intelligence happens. New Haven: Yale University Press.
Efklides, A., Demetriou, A., & Gustafsson, J.-E. (1992). Training, cognitive change and individual

differences. In A. Demetriou, M. Shayer, & A. Efklides (Eds.), Neo-piagetian theories of
cognitive development: Implications and applications for education (pp. 122–143). London:
Routledge.

Engel de Abreu, P. M. J., Conway, A. R. A., & Gathercole, S. E. (2010). Working memory and fluid
intelligence in young children. Intelligence, 38, 552–561.

English, L. D. (1998). Children’s reasoning in solving relational problems of deduction. Thinking and
Reasoning, 4, 249–281.

Ennis, R. H. (1962). A concept of critical thinking. Harvard Educational Review, 32, 81–111.
Ennis, R. H. (1987). A taxonomy of critical thinking dispositions and abilities. In J. Baron & R. Sternberg

(Eds.), Teaching thinking skills: Theory and practice (pp. 9–26). New York: W.H. Freeman.
Ennis, R. H. (1996). Critical thinking. Upper Saddle River: Prentice-Hall.
Ercikan, K. (2006). Developments in assessment of student learning. In P. A. Alexander & P. H. Winne

(Eds.), Handbook of educational psychology (pp. 929–952). Mahwah: Lawrence Erlbaum.
Ericsson, K. A., & Kintsch, W. (1995). Long-term working memory. Psychological Review, 102, 211–245.
Ericsson, K. A., & Lehmann, A. C. (1996). Expert and exceptional performance: Evidence of maximal

adaptation to task constraints. Annual Review of Psychology, 47, 273–305.
Finke, R. A. (1993). Mental imagery and creative discovery. In B. Roskos-Ewoldsen, M. J. Intons-Peterson,

& R. E. Anderson (Eds.), Imagery, creativity, and discovery: A cognitive perspective (pp. 255–286).
Amsterdam: Elsevier.

Fireman, G. (1996). Developing a plan for solving a problem: A representational shift. Cognitive
Development, 11, 107–122.

Fischer, K. W. (1980). A theory of cognitive development: The control and construction of hierarchies of
skills. Psychological Review, 87, 477–531.

Fisher, A. V. (2010). Mechanisms of induction early in development. In M. Banich & D. Caccamise (Eds.),
Generalization of knowledge: Multidisciplinary perspectives (pp. 89–112). New York: Psychology Press.

Flavell, J. H., Green, F. L., Flavell, E. R. (1995).Young children’s knowledge about thinking. Monographs of
the Society for Research in Child Development, 60 (1, Serial No. 243).

Flavell, J. H., Green, F. L., Flavell, E. R., & Grossman, J. B. (1997). The development of children’s
knowledge about inner speech. Child Development, 68, 39–47.

Flook, L., Smalley, S. L., Kitil, M. J., Galla, B. M., Kaiser-Greenland, S., Locke, et al. (2010). Effects of
mindfulness awareness practices on executive functions in elementary school children. Journal of
Applied School Psychology, 26, 70–95.

Flynn, J. R. (2009). What is intelligence: Beyond the Flynn effect. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Fodor, J. A. (1976). The language of thought. Hassocks: Harvester Press.
Furedy, C., & Furedy, J. (1985). Critical thinking: Towards research and dialogue. In Donald & Sullivan

(Eds.), Using research to improve teaching (New Directions for Teaching and Learning No. 23). San
Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

Gardner, H. (1983). Frames of mind. The theory of multiple intelligences. New York: Basic Books.
Gauffroy, C., & Barrouillet, P. (2011). The primacy of thinking about possibilities in the development of

reasoning. Developmental Psychology, 47, 1000–1011.
Gelman, S. A. (2003). The essential child. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Gelman, R., & Brenneman, K. (1994). First principles can support both universal and culture-specific

learning about number and music. In L. Hirschfeld & S. Gelman (Eds.), Mapping the mind: Domains,
culture and cognition (pp. 369–390). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Gelman, S. A., & Coley, J. D. (1990). The importance of knowing a dodo is a bird: Categories and inferences
in 2-year-old children. Developmental Psychology, 26, 796–804.

Gentner, D. (1989). The mechanisms of analogical learning. In S. Vosniadou & A. Ortony (Eds.), Similarity
and analogical reasoning (pp. 199–241). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

658 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

Gentner, D., & Rattermann, M. J. (1991). Language and the career of similarity. In S. A. Gelman & J. P.
Byrnes (Eds.), Perspectives on language and thought: Interrelations in development (pp. 225–277).
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Gibson, E. J., & Pick, A. D. (2003). An ecological approach to perceptual learning and development.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Glassner, A., & Schwarz, B. B. (2007). What stands and develops between creative and critical thinking?
Argumentation? Thinking Skills and Creativity, 2, 10–18.

Gobet, F. (1998). Expert memory: A comparison of four theories. Cognition, 66, 115–152.
Grigorenko, E. L. (2002). Other than g. The value of persistence. In R. J. Sternberg & E. L. Grigorenko (Eds.),

The general factor of intelligence: How general is it? (pp. 299–327). Mahwah: Lawrence Erlbaum.
Gustafsson, J.-E. (1984). A unifying model for the structure of intellectual abilities. Intelligence, 8, 179–203.
Gustafsson, J.-E. (2008). Schooling and intelligence: Effects of track of study on level and profile of

cognitive abilities. In P. C. Kyllonen, R. D. Roberts, & L. Stankov (Eds.), Extending intelligence:
Enhancement and new constructs (pp. 37–59). New York: Lawrence Erlbaum.

Gustafsson, J. E., & Undheim, J. O. (1996). Individual differences in cognitive functions. In D. C. Berliner &
R. C. Calfee (Eds.), Handbook of educational psychology (pp. 186–242). New York: Macmillan.

Halford, G. S. (1993).Children’s understanding: The development of mental models. Hillsdale: Lawrence Erlbaum.
Halford, G. S., Wilson, W. H., & Phillips, S. (1998). Processing capacity defined by relational complexity:

Implications for comparative, developmental, and cognitive psychology. The Behavioral and Brain
Sciences, 21, 803–864.

Handley, S. J., Capon, A., Beveridge, M., Dennis, I., Evans, J. St. B. T. (2004). Working memory, inhibitory
control and the development of children’s reasoning. Thinking and Reasoning, 10, 175–195.

Harris, P., & Nunez, M. (1996). Understanding of permission rules by preschool children. Child
Development, 67, 1572–1591.

Harter, S. (1999). The construction of the self: A developmental perspective. New York: The Guilford Press.
Haun, D. B. M., Jordan, F. M., Vallortigara, G., & Clayton, N. S. (2010). Origins of spatial, temporal and

numerical cognition: Insights from comparative psychology. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 14, 552–560.
Heit, E., & Rotello, C. M. (2010). Relations between inductive reasoning and deductive reasoning. Journal

of Experimental Psychology. Learning, Memory, and Cognition, 36, 805–812.
Hirschfeld, L. A., & Gelman, S. A. (Eds.). (1994). Mapping the mind: Domain specificity in cognition and

culture. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Hmelo-Silver, C. E., & Pfeffer, M. G. (2004). Comparing expert and novice understanding of a complex

system from the perspective of structures, behaviors, and functions. Cognitive Science, 28, 127–138.
Holland, J., Holyoak, K., Nisbett, R., & Thagard, P. (1986). Induction: Processes of inference, learning, and

discovery. Cambridge: MIT Press.
Hornung, C., Brunner, M., Reuter, R. A. P., & Martin, R. (2011). Children’s working memory: Its structure

and relationship to fluid intelligence. Intelligence, 39, 210–221.
Hunt, E. B. (2002). Thoughts on thought. Mahwah: Lawrence Erlbaum.
Hunt, E. B. (2011). Human intelligence. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Huttenlocher, J., Vasilyeva, M., Newcombe, N., & Duffy, S. (2008). Developing symbolic capacity one step

at a time. Cognition, 106, 1–12.
Jacobs, J. E., & Klaczynski, P. A. (2002). The development of judgment and decision making during

childhood and adolescence. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 11, 145–149.
Jaeggi, S. M., Buschkuehl, M., Jonides, J., & Perrig, W. J. (2008). Improving fluid intelligence with training

on working memory. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 105, 6829–6833.
Jensen, A. R. (1998). The g factor: The science of mental ability. Westport: Praeger.
Johansen, M. K., & Palmeri, T. J. (2002). Are there representational shifts during category learning?

Cognitive Psychology, 45, 482–553.
Johnson, W., te Nijenhuis, J., & Bouchard, T. J. (2008). Still just 1 g: Consistent results from five test

batteries. Intelligence, 36, 81–95.
Johnson-Laird, P. N. (2001). Mental models and deduction. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 5, 434–442.
Jonassen, D. H. (2000). Toward a design theory of problem solving. Educational Technology Research and

Development, 48, 63–85.
Jonassen, D. H. (2003). Learning to solve problems: An instructional design guide. New York: Pfeifer.
Jones, L., & Stuth, G. (1997). The uses of mental imagery in athletics: An overview. Applied and Preventive

Psychology, 6, 101–115.
Kagan, J. (2009). The three cultures: Natural sciences, social sciences, and the humanities in the 21st

century. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Kail, R. (1991). Developmental change in speed of processing during childhood and adolescence.

Psychological Bulletin, 109, 490–501.

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 659

Kail, R. (1993). Processing time decreases globally at an exponential rate during childhood and adolescence.
Journal of Experimental Child Psychology, 56, 254–265.

Kalyuga, S., & Hanham, J. (2011). Instructing in generalized knowledge structures to develop flexible
problem solving skills. Computers in Human Behavior, 27, 63–68.

Kalyuga, S., Renkl, A., & Paas, F. (2010). Facilitating flexible problem solving: A cognitive load perspective.
Educational Psychology Review, 22, 175–186.

Kargopoulos, P., & Demetriou, A. (1998). Logical and psychological partitioning of mind: Depicting the
same picture? New Ideas in Psychology, 16, 61–88.

Karmiloff-Smith, A. (1992). Beyond modularity: A developmental perspective on cognitive science.
Cambridge: MIT Press.

Keen, R. (2011). The development of problem solving in young children: A critical cognitive skill. Annual
Review of Psychology, 62, 1–21.

Keil, F. C. (2011). Science starts early. Science, 331, 1022–1023.
Keogh, B. K. (2003). Temperament in the classroom: Understanding individual differences. Baltimore:

Brookes Publishing.
King, P. M., & Kitchener, K. S. (1994). Developing reflective judgment. New York. Jossey-Bass.
Kirschner, P. A., Sweller, J., & Clark, R. E. (2006). Why minimal guidance instruction does not work: An

analysis of the failure of constructivist, discovery, problem-based, experiential, and inquiry-based
teaching. Educational Psychologist, 41, 75–86.

Klaczynski, P. A., & Daniel, D. B. (2005). Individual differences in conditional reasoning: A dual-process
account. Thinking and Reasoning, 11, 305–325.

Klauer, K. C., Meiser, T., & Naumer, B. (2000). Training propositional reasoning. The Quarterly Journal of
Experimental Psychology, 53, 868–895.

Klingberg, T., Forssberg, H., & Westerberg, H. (2002). Training of working memory in children with ADHD.
Journal of Clinical and Experimental Neuropsycholy, 24(6), 781–791.

Kopp, C. B. (2011). Development in the early years: Socialization, motor development, and consciousness.
Annual Review of Psychology, 62, 165–187.

Krumm, S., Ziegler, M., & Buehner, M. (2008). Reasoning and working memory as predictors of school
grades. Learning and Individual Differences, 18, 248–257.

Kuhn, D. (1991). The skills of argument. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Kuhn, D. (2009). Do students need to be taught how to reason? Educational Research Review, 4, 1–6.
Kuhn, D., & Pease, M. (2006). Do children and adults learn differently? Journal of Cognition and

Development, 7, 279–293.
Kyllonen, P., & Christal, R. E. (1990). Reasoning ability is (little more than) working-memory capacity?

Intelligence, 14, 389–433.
Kyriakides, L., & Luyten, H. (2009). The contribution of schooling to the cognitive development of

secondary education students in Cyprus: An application of regression discontinuity with multiple cut-off
points. School Effectiveness and School Improvement, 20, 167–186.

Labouvie-Vief, G. (2005). Self-with-other representations and the organization of the self. Journal of
Research in Personality, 39, 185–205.

Leslie, A., Friedman, O., & German, T. P. (2004). Core mechanisms in “theory of mind”. Trends in Cognitive
Sciences, 12, 528–533.

Linn, M. C., & Eylon, B.-S. (2011). Science learning and instruction: Taking advantage of technology to
promote knowledge integration. London: Routledge.

Lynn, R., & Vanhanen, T. (2006). IQ and global inequality. Augusta: Washington Summit Publishers.
Mandler, J. M. (2004). The foundations of mind. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Markovits, H., & Barrouillet, P. (2002). The development of conditional reasoning: A mental model account.

Developmental Review, 22, 5–36.
McBride-Chang, C., Zhou, Y., Cho, J.-R., Aram, D., Levin, I., & Tolchinsky, L. (2011). Visual spatial

skill: A consequence of learning to read? Journal of Experimental Child Psychology, 109, 256–
262.

McCune, L. (2008). How children learn to learn language. New York: Oxford University Press.
Meltzoff, A. N., Kuhl, P. K., Movellan, J., & Sejnowski, T. J. (2009). Foundations for a new science of

learning. Science, 325, 284–288.
Mercier, H., & Sperber, D. (2011). Why do humans reason? Arguments for an argumentative theory.

Behavioral and Brain Sciences (in press).
Miller, L. T., & Vernon, P. A. (1992). The general factor in short-term memory, intelligence, and reaction time.

Intelligence, 16, 5–29.
Miller, S. A., Custer, W. L., & Nassau, G. (2000). Children’s understanding of the necessity of logically

necessary truths. Cognitive Development, 15, 383–403.

660 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

Molenbergs, P., Cunnigton, R., & Mattingley, J. B. (2009). Is the mirror system involved in imitationV A short
review and meta-analysis. Neuroscience and Behavioral Reviews, 33, 975–980.

Moshman, D. (1990). The development of metalogical understanding. In W. F. Overton (Ed.), Reasoning,
necessity, and logic: Developmental perspectives (pp. 205–225). Hillsdale: Lawrence Erlbaum.

Moshman, D. (1994). Reasoning, metareasoning and the promotion of rationality. In A. Demetriou & A.
Efklides (Eds.), Mind, intelligence, and reasoning: Structure and development (pp. 135–150).
Amsterdam: Elsevier.

Moshman, D. (2011). Adolescent rationality and development: Cognition, morality, and identity (3rd ed.).
New York: Psychology Press.

Mouyi, A. (2008). Developmental dynamics binding processing efficiency, working memory, and reasoning:
A longitudinal study. Unpublished doctoral dissertation. Nicosia: University of Cyprus.

Nesher, P., & Sukenik, M. (1991). The effect of formal representation on the learning of ratio concepts.
Learning and Instruction, 1, 161–175.

Nisbett, R. E. (2009). Intelligence and how to get it: Why schools and cultures count. New York: Norton.
Olson, D. (2003). Psychological theory and educational reform: How school remakes mind and society.

Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Overton, W. F. (2010). Life-span development: Concepts and issues. In W. F. Overton (Ed.), Biology,

cognition and methods across the life-span. Vol. 1: Handbook of life-span development (pp. 1–29).
Hoboken: Wiley (Editor-in-chief: Lerner RM).

Overton, W. F., Byrnes, J. P., & O’ Brien, D. P. (1985). Developmental and individual differences in
conditional reasoning: The role of contradiction training and cognitive style. Developmental Psychology,
21, 692–701.

Panaoura, A., Gagatsis, A., & Demetriou, A. (2009). An intervention to the mathematical performance: Self-
regulation in mathematics and mathematical modeling. Acta Didactica Universitatis Comenianae, 9, 63–79.

Pascal-Leone, J. (1988). Organismic processes for neo-Piagetian theories: A dialectical causal account of
cognitive development. In A. Demetriou (Ed.), The neo-Piagetian theories of cognitive development:
Toward an integration (pp. 25–64). Amsterdam: North-Holland.

Pascarella, E. T., & Terenzin, P. T. (2005). How college affects students. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.
Pascual-Leone, J. (1970). A mathematical model for the transition rule in Piaget’s developmental stages. Acta

Psychologica, 63, 301–345.
Piaget, J. (1970). Piaget’s theory. In P. H. Mussen (Ed.), Carmichael’s handbook of child development (pp.

703–732). New York: Wiley.
Piaget, J. (1980). Concerning creativity: Three methods. In J.-C. Bringuier (Ed.), Conversations with Jean

Piaget (pp. 126–132). Chicago: University of Chicago Press (Original work published in 1977).
Piaget, J. (2001). Studies in reflecting abstraction. London: Psychology Press.
Piazza, M. (2010). Neurocognitive start-up tools for symbolic number representations. Trends in Cognitive

Sciences, 14, 542–551.
Pind, J., Gunnarsdottir, E. K., & Johannesson, H. S. (2003). Raven’s standard progressive matrices: New

school age norms and a study of the test’s validity. Personality and Individual Differences, 34, 375–386.
Posner, M. I., & Rothbart, M. K. (2006). Educating the human brain. New York: American Psychological

Association.
Printz, W. (2003). Emerging selves: Representational foundations of subjectivity. Consciousness and

Cognition, 12, 515–528.
Raffray, C. N., & Pickering, M. J. (2010). How do people construct logical form during language

comprehension? Psychological Science, 21(8), 1090–1097.
Raftopoulos, A., & Constantinou, C. P. (2004). Types of cognitive change: A dynamical, connectionist

account. In A. Demetriou & A. Raftopoulos (Eds.), Developmental change: Theories, models and
measurement (pp. 74–117). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Rasmussen, C., & Bisanz, J. (2005). Representation and working memory in early arithmetic. Journal of
Experimental Child Psychology, 91, 137–157.

Reed, S. K. (1993). Imagery and discovery. In B. Roskos-Ewoldsen, M. J. Intons-Peterson, & R. E. Anderson
(Eds.), Imagery, creativity, and discovery: A cognitive perspective (pp. 287–328). Amsterdam: Elsevier.

Reynolds, C. A., Finkel, D., McArdle, J. J., Gatz, M., Berg, S., & Pedersen, N. L. (2005). Quantitative
genetic analysis of latent growth curve models of cognitive abilities in adulthood. Developmental
Psychology, 41, 3–16.

Ricco, R. B. (2010). The development of deductive reasoning across the lifespan. In W. F. Overton (Ed.),
Biology, cognition, and methods across the life-span. Vol.1: Handbook of life-span development (pp.
391–430). Hoboken: Wiley (Editor-in-chief: R. M. Lerner).

Ricco, R. B., & Overton, W. F. (2011). Dual systems Competence – Procedural processing: A relational
developmental systems approach to reasoning. Developmental Review doi:10.1016/j.dr.2011.07.005.

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 661

http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.dr.2011.07.005

Riegel, K. F. (1973). Dialectic operations: The final period of cognitive development. Human Development,
16, 346–370.

Rindermann, H., & Neubauer, A. C. (2004). Processing speed, intelligence, creativity, and school
performance: Testing of causal hypotheses using structural equation models. Intelligence, 32, 573–589.

Rips, L. J. (1994). The psychology of proof. Deductive reasoning in human thinking. Cambridge: MIT Press.
Rizzolatti, G., & Craighero, L. (2004). The mirror-neuron system. Annual Review of Neuroscience, 27, 169–192.
Rohde, T. E., & Thompson, L. A. (2007). Predicting academic achievement with cognitive ability.

Intelligence, 35, 83–92.
Rosch, E. (1975). Cognitive representations of semantic categories. Journal of Experimental Psychology:

General, 104, 192–322.
Runco, M. A., & Pritzker, S. R. (Eds.). (1999). Encyclopedia of creativity. San Diego: Academic.
Sackett, P. R., Schmitt, N., Ellingson, J. E., & Kabin, M. B. (2001). High-stakes testing in employment,

credentialing, and higher education: Prospects in a post-affirmative-action world. American Psychologist, 56,
302–318.

Salthouse, T. A. (2000). Aging and measures of processing speed. Biological Psychology, 54, 35–54.
Schaie, K. W. (1996). Adulthood and old age. In T. Husen & T. N. Postlewaithe (Eds.), International

encyclopedia of education (pp. 163–168). Oxford: Pergamon.
Shayer, M., & Adey, P. (2002). Learning intelligence: Cognitive acceleration across the curriculum from 5 to

15 years. Milton Keynes: Open University Press.
Shayer, M., & Adhami, M. (2003). Realising the cognitive potential of children 5–7 with a mathematics

focus. International Journal of Educational Research, 39, 743–775.
Shayer, M., & Wylam, H. (1978). The distribution of Piagetian stages of thinking in British middle and

secondary school children II: 14–16 year-olds and sex differentials. British Journal of Educational
Psychology, 948, 62–70.

Shayer, M., Küchemann, D. E., & Wylam, H. (1976). The distribution of Piagetian stages of thinking in
British middle and secondary school children. British Journal of Educational Psychology, 46, 164–173.

Shayer, M., Demetriou, A., & Pervez, M. (1988). The structure and scaling of concrete operational thought:
Three studies in four countries. Genetic, Social, and General Psychology Monographs, 114, 307–376.

Sheppard, L. D., & Vernon, P. A. (2008). Intelligence and speed of information-processing: A review of 50
years of research. Personality and Individual Differences, 44, 535–551.

Siegel, H. (1988). Educating reason: Rationality, critical thinking, and education. London: Routledge.
Siegel, H. (1989a). Epistemology, critical thinking, and critical thinking pedagogy. Argumentation, 3, 127–140.
Siegel, H. (1989b). The rationality of science, critical thinking, and science education. Synthese, 80, 9–41.
Siegler, R. S. (1996). Emerging minds: The process of change in children’s thinking. Oxford: Oxford

University Press.
Simonton, D. K. (2000). Creative development as acquired expertise: Theoretical issues and an empirical

test. Developmental Review, 20, 283–318.
Sloutsky, V. M., & Fisher, A. V. (2011). The development of categorization. Psychology of Learning and

Motivation, 54, 141–166.
Smith, L. (2009). Piaget’s pedagogy. In U. Muller, J. I. M. Carpendale, & L. Smith (Eds.), The Cambridge

companion to Piaget (pp. 324–343). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Snow, R. (1989). Aptitude–treatment interaction as a framework on individual differences in learning. In P.

Ackermann, R. J. Sternberg, & R. Glaser (Eds.), Learning and individual differences (pp. 13–59). New
York: W.H. Freeman.

Spearman, C. (1904). “General intelligence” objectively determined and measured. The American Journal of
Psychology, 15, 201–293.

Stanovich, K. E. (2009). What intelligence tests miss: The psychology of rational thought. New Haven: Yale
University Press.

Stearns, P. N. (2006). Childhood in world history. London: Routledge.
Stein, M., & Burchartz, B. (2009). The Invisible wall project: Reasoning and problem solving processes of

primary and lower secondary students. Mathematical Thinking and Learning, 8, 65–90.
Sternberg, R. J. (Ed.). (1999). Handbook of creativity. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Sternberg, R. J. (2005). Creativity or creativities? International Journal of Human Computer Studies, 63,

370–382.
Sweller, J. (1994). Cognitive load theory, learning difficulty, and instructional design. Learning and

Instruction, 4, 295–312.
Téglás, E., Vul, E., Girotto, V., Gonzalez, M., Tenenbaum, J. B., & Bonatti, L. (2011). Pure reasoning in 12-

month-old infants as probabilistic inference. Science, 332, 1054–1059.
Thorell, L. B., Lindqvist, S., Bergman Nutley, S., Bohlin, G., & Klingberg, T. (2009). Training and transfer

effects of executive functions in preschool children. Developmental Science, 12, 106–113.

662 Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663

Tillman, C. M., Nyberg, L., & Bohlin, G. (2008). Working memory components and intelligence in children.
Intelligence, 36, 394–402.

Tsamir, P., Tirosh, D., Tabach,M., & Levenson, E. (2010). Multiple solutionmethods andmultiple outcomes—Is it
a task for kindergarten children? Educational Studies in Mathematics, 73, 217–231.

Tyrrel, D. J., Stauffer, L. B., & Snowman, L. G. (1991). Perception of abstract identity/difference
relationships by infants. Infant Behavior & Development, 14, 125–129.

Unsworth, N., & Spillers, G. J. (2010). Working memory capacity: Attention control, secondary memory, or
both? A direct test of the dual-component model. Journal of Memory and Language, 62, 392–406.

van der Maas, H. L. J., Dolan, C. V., Grasman, R. P. P. P., Wicherts, G. J. M., Huizenga, H. M., & Raijmakers,
M. E. J. (2006). A dynamical model of general intelligence: The positive manifold of intelligence by
mutualism. Psychological Review, 113, 842–861.

van Fraassen, B. C. (2010). Scientific representation: Paradoxes of perspective. Oxford: Oxford University
Press.

van Geert, P. (1994). Dynamic systems of development: Change between complexity and chaos. New York:
Harvester Wheatsheaf.

Vosniadou, S. (Ed.). (2008). International handbook of research on conceptual change. London: Routledge.
Vosniadou, S., & Brewer, W. F. (1992). Mental models of the earth: A study of conceptual change in

childhood. Cognitive Psychology, 24, 535–585.
Wagner, S., Winner, E., Cicchetti, D., & Gardner, H. (1981). “Metaphorical” mapping in human infants. Child

Development, 52, 728–731.
Watson, G. B., & Glaser, E. M. (1980). WGCTA Watson-Glaser Critical Thinking Appraisal Manual: Forms

A and B. San Antonio: The Psychological Corporation.
Wellman, H. M. (1990). The child’s theory of mind. Cambridge: Bradford.
Westerberg, H. (2004). Working memory: Development, disorders, and training. Stockholm: Karolinska

Institutet.
Whitherington, D. C. (2011). Taking emergence seriously: The centrality of circular causality for dynamic

systems approaches to development. Human Development, 54, 66–92.
Wildenger, L. K., Hofer, B. K., & Burr, J. E. (2010). Epistemological development in very young knowers. In

L. Bendixen & F. Haerle (Eds.), Personal epistemology in the classroom: Theory, research, and
implications for practice (pp. 220–257). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Williamson, R. A., Jaswal, V. K., & Meltzoff, A. N. (2010). Learning the rules: Observation and imitation of
a sorting strategy by 36-month-old children. Developmental Psychology, 46, 57–65.

Winship, C., & Korenman, S. (1997). Does staying in school make you smarter? The effect of education on
IQ in the Bell Curve. In B. Devlin, S. E. Fienberg, D. P. Resnick, & K. Roeder (Eds.), Intelligence,
genes, and success. Scientists respond to the Bell Curve (pp. 215–234). New York: Springer.

Wood, J. N. (2011). A core knowledge architecture of visual working memory. Journal of Experimental
Psychology. Human Perception and Performance, 37, 357–381.

Xu, F., & Garcia, V. (2008). Intuitive statistics by 8-month-old infants. Proceeding of the National Academy
of Sciences, 105, 5012–5015.

Yamagata, K. (2007). Differential emergence of representational systems: Drawings, letters, and numerals.
Cognitive Development, 22, 244–257.

Yerushalmy, M. (1997). Mathematizing verbal descriptions of situations: A language to support modeling.
Cognition and Instruction, 15, 207–264.

Zelazo, P. D. (2004). The development of conscious control in childhood. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 8,
12–17.

Zelazo, P. D. (2011). Mindfulness training in childhood. Human Development, 54, 61–65.
Zelazo, P. D., & Frye, D. (1998). Cognitive complexity and control: The development of executive function.

Current Directions in Psychological Science, 7, 121–126.
Zelazo, P. D., Müller, U., Frye, D., Marcovitch, S., Argitis, G., Boseovski, J., Chiang, J. K., Hongwanishkul,

D., Schuster, B. V., Sutherland, S., Carlson, S. M. (2003). The development of executive function in
early childhood. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 68, (Serial No. 3).

Zelazo, P. D., Qu, L., & Müller, U. (2005). Hot and cool aspects of executive function: Relations with early
development. In W. Schneider, R. Schumann, R. Hengsteler, & B. Sodian (Eds.), Young children’s
cognitive development: Interrelationships among executive functioning, working memory, verbal ability,
and theory of mind (pp. 71–93). Mahwah: Lawrence Erlbaum.

Zosh, J. M., Halberda, J., & Feigenson, L. (2011). Memeory for multiple visual ensembles in infancy.
Journal of Experimental Psychology. General, 140, 141–158.

Educ Psychol Rev (2011) 23:601–663 663

Copyright of Educational Psychology Review is the property of Springer Science & Business Media B.V. and

its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder’s

express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use.

Adaptation and creativity in cultural context

Leonora M. Cohen1
Oregon State University, USA

Adaptation is the fit between the individual and the environment. The dynamic interplay
between person, culture, and environment is one of the most important issues in analyzing
creativity. Adaptation is defined as the fit or adjustment of the individual to external conditions,
but adaptation can also mean moving from one environment to another more suitable, or even
forcing the environment to adapt in response to creative efforts. Culture impacts creativity in
limiting acceptable boundaries, yet providing the artifacts used in creating. Culture is impacted
and changed by creative efforts. Tight conformity to confining environments or cultures can
stifle. The creator must be aware of cultural values and not overstep these boundaries for work
to be accepted. A developmental continuum of adaptive, creative behaviors suggests a shift from
individual adaptation to the environment to adaptation by the world to the individual.
Key words: Creativity, adaptation, cultural context.

Adaptación y creatividad en el contexto cultural
La adaptación es la integración entre el individuo y su entorno. El interjuego dinámico entre la
persona, la cultura y el entorno es uno de los temas más importantes en el análisis de la creati-
vidad. La adaptación es definida como la integración o el ajuste del individuo a las condiciones
externas, pero adaptación también puede significar moverse de un entorno hacia otro más ade-
cuado o, incluso, forzar el entorno para adaptarse en respuesta a los esfuerzos creativos. La
cultura impacta la creatividad al limitar las fronteras aceptadas, brindando los artefactos usados
en la creación. La cultura es impactada y cambiada por los esfuerzos creativos. La conformidad
ajustada a los límites de los entornos o de las culturas puede resultar asfixiante. El creador debe
estar alerta a los valores culturales y no sobrepasar estas barreras para que su trabajo sea acep-
tado. Un desarrollo continuo de conductas adaptativas y creativas sugiere un desplazamiento de
la adaptación individual hacia el entorno, hacia la adaptación del mundo para con el individuo.
Palabras clave: creatividad, adaptación, contexto cultural.

1 Associate professor in the College of Education at Oregon State University. She has worked in the
field of gifted education for 45 years, as teacher, parent, initiator and coordinator of the Mentally
Gifted Program for Philadelphia Public Schools. A university professor and researcher, has pub-
lished over 80 books, chapters, and articles in the field. Her research focuses on conceptual and
theoretical issues, creativity, children’s interest development, thinking and metacognition, coping
strategies, teaching gifted children, and the context of schooling. Contact: College of Education,
Waldo Hall 473, Oregon State University, Corvallis, OR 97331, USA; cohenl@oregonstate.edu

Revista de Psicología Vol. 30 (1), 2012 (ISSN 0254-9247)

5

Depending on the situation, adaptation can hinder or support
creativity. In some cases, adaptation means tightly conforming to
a confining environment that stifles creativity. In others, it means
creatively adjusting to subtle nuances of a changing environment or
moving out of one context into another better suited to one’s abilities
or preferences. Adaptation also occurs when individuals change the
environment in response to their needs or efforts. In most cases, creative
adaptation involves most or all of these mutually shaping influences
between person and context.

The dynamic interplay between person and environment is one of
the most important issues in analyses of creativity. Compared to creative
processes, persons, or products, relatively little research has been done
on the social and environmental context of creativity (Csikszentmihalyi,
1988; Harrington, 1990, 1999; Kasov, 1999; Purser & Montouri,
1999; Simonton, 1988). This paper explores the role of cultural
context; definitions of adaptation, creativity, and problem solving; and
creativity and adaptation. It proposes a developmental continuum of
creative behaviors in which there is a shift from individual adaptation
to the environment to adaptation by the world to the individual.
This developmental continuum accounts for creativity in both young
children and eminent adults.

Cultural context

Culture, the combination of tradition, values, customs, rules,
behaviors, and beliefs, as well as the political, economic, and technological
forces that impact a given group in a particular time and place, must be
taken into account in adaptation and creativity. The question is who
does the adapting. On one hand, some definitions related to creativity

6

Revista de Psicología, Vol. 30 (1), 2012, pp. 3-18 (ISSN 0254-9247)

and adaptation focus on conforming to an environmental situation.
Individuals who do not fit into prevailing values and mores are considered
weird or even dangerous. Rudowicz (2003) noted that Eastern or
traditional cultures would consider products or ideas that counter
values and child rearing practices of a given culture as unacceptable or
dangerous. Creators must be aware of cultural values and not overstep
the boundaries. However, when adaptation is viewed as modifying or
transforming the environment, particularly when the created products
or ideas are valued by a culture, the creator is considered the epitome of
human development and health.

Definitions of Adaptation

The term adaptation is derived from the Latin, meaning to fit.
The dictionary definitions are “the act of adjusting to environmental
conditions” or “the modification of an organism or its parts that makes
it more fit for existence under its environmental conditions”. Runco
(1999) noted that adaptation rests on personal reactions, perhaps
influenced by social relationships and socioeconomic influences, as
well as dealing with tension, challenge and adversity in life. While one
person may see a problem or gap, another does not; or one person may
be stressed and overwhelmed by adversity, another may find that same
set of events challenging and exciting. Schoon (2006) found that the
particularities of the time period and historical context further shape
adaptiveness and creativity.

There are three distinct shades of meaning for adaptation. The
most common is adaptation as fitting in—conformity, agreement,
compliance, or yielding to environment or situation. Essentially, this is
modification of self to fit environment. For example, a new employee
quickly adapts by talking about sports or pop music to fit in. In this view
of adaptation, individuals who do not conform to prevailing values,
mores, and practices of a given culture or context often are considered
maladaptive outsiders or even lunatics. Early definitions of creativity

7

Adaptation and creativity in cultural context / Cohen

focused on pathology, portraying creators as neurotic or mentally ill,
partly because they were unable or unwilling to adapt to the styles and
customs of the times, helping to explain crazy artist or mad scientist
stereotypes. But groundbreaking, paradigm-shifting creators do not
make their impact by conforming to the prevailing belief systems of
their eras. On a smaller scale, a young person who does not conform to
the prevailing fashions worn at school or hang out with the in students
is often ostracized. This failure to adapt may not be a sign of mental
instability. The student who bucks the system when faced with another
boring work sheet may be demonstrating a healthy sense of self.

A second definition of adaptation emphasizes the role of experience
in successful orientation to an environment or situation. Adapting to
the heat and humidity by resting in the afternoon in a tropical country
is an example. It may involve rapid reading of an environment and
selection of responses that provide the greatest benefit to the individual.
For example, a politician who sizes up a crowd and delivers a speech
tailored to that audience could be considered contextually creative
because she successfully uses experience to adapt to a given situation.
Experience also can help individuals select environments best suited to
their full development or reject a detrimental environment. Examples
include moving to an aesthetically invigorating setting, enrolling in a
school that offers a program of deep interest, or leaving a job when
it becomes toxic. Such experience-based selection of an environment
might prevent situations where individuals do not feel they belong.
It also may prevent high-potential people from feeling inferior and
developing a poor sense of self based on an environmental mismatch.

A third definition of adaptation suggests something different; that
is, the individual acts on the environment to modify, change, translate,
or transform it. For example, some creative employees make work
environments more fulfilling and challenging by initiating innovative
and interesting projects in otherwise barren, stifling offices. On a
larger scale, some highly creative people modify their environments by
developing profound ideas or products that affect many people over
time. For example, Thomas Edison’s inventions and Albert Einstein’s

8

Revista de Psicología, Vol. 30 (1), 2012, pp. 3-18 (ISSN 0254-9247)

theories made high-impact, long-lasting transformations that continue
to influence the present.

In considering the dynamics of creative adaptation, the issue
is directionality. Eminent adults must adapt to their cultures and
environments, but they also encourage the world in which they
function to adapt to their ideas and products. In contrast, children and
adult novices concentrate on adapting to their environments, and exert
little influence on those contexts. Both of these forms of adaptation
involve creative thought and action, but what is creativity?

Definitions of Creativity

The most common definition of creativity involves the production
of something appropriate yet new or rare that is valued and accepted
in the world (Cohen, in press). However, this definition applies only
to creativity in eminent adults because children are unlikely to produce
something truly new or valued, other than by families or peers. Hence,
this definition is not helpful to classroom creativity, nor does it apply to
mundane or personal creativity, creativity in the small, little c creativity
or, as Beghetto and Kaufman (2007) suggested, mini-c creativity, the
less than earth-shaking variety of creative products or ideas made by
children and adults such as making an unusual meal, lovely garden, or
delightful finger painting.

Creativity involves a paradox: An original, novel idea or product
and its acceptability, appropriateness, and usefulness to a given group
or society. Creative adaptiveness is the ability to adjust flexibly to
conditions or environments in developing new ideas or products while
adhering to what is approved or permitted in a given cultural context.
Rudowicz (2006) noted this requires commitment to the socio-cultural
system, not exceeding boundaries to be too foreign or perceived as
dangerous, often involving modification or improvements, rather than
new inventions.

9

Adaptation and creativity in cultural context / Cohen

J. P. Guilford’s (1967) conception of divergent thinking is probably
the second most common definition of creativity. Divergent thinking
involves production of ideas from given information, with an emphasis
on variety and quantity of output involving fluency, flexibility,
originality, and elaboration. How many uses can you think of for a cup?
is a typical classroom problem based on this definition. It appears to
apply to both childhood and adulthood, but does not likely span the
gap between children’s creativity and mature, eminent creativity and it
relates more to problem solving.

Definitions of adaptation are influenced by differences between
problem solving and creativity. Both creativity and problem solving
share a common starting point—incongruity in a problem. Both also
require knowledge, motivation, repetition, and discovery of unique
combinations as well as involving phases or stages in the process. But
problem solving and mature creativity are different in duration and
effect, both externally and internally. Problem solving is generally a
short-term process while creativity at higher levels is life-long. Creativity
at high levels focuses on a larger unit of analysis, more on a totality
rather than a specific answer, and usually involves a greater impact on
the world. In problem solving, problems are typically externally set,
with the focus on resolution. By contrast, mature creativity involves
problem finding, wherein both problems and innovative solutions are
generated internally and intrinsically, although there certainly are both
external stimuli and parameters.

Mature creativity involves a discontinuity with what was before,
while problem solutions can be explained by more continuous,
straightforward processes. For example, solving the problem of how
to get kids to use more toothpaste might involve researching children’s
flavor preferences and making cherry-flavored toothpaste. Creativity, on
the other hand, involves a shift in context, which allows the creator to see
the world in a new way. In this process, the connections between the new
and the old perspectives on the situation are not directly discernible. For
example, in coming to understand the inner world of individuals, Freud
created new perspectives with his concepts of  id, ego, and superego.

10

Revista de Psicología, Vol. 30 (1), 2012, pp. 3-18 (ISSN 0254-9247)

These new concepts produced a discontinuity with the knowledge that
had prevailed previously in the field. Such discontinuities are consistent
with Gruber’s (1989) conclusion that mature creativity involves the
construction of a point of view while problem solving does not. Gruber
came to this conclusion during his analyses of the works of highly
creative individuals, Charles Darwin and Jean Piaget.

Mature creativity, then, involves both external transformation of a
field and internal transformation of self. Adaptation is evident in both
aspects. External transformation involves sensitivity to a context as well
as awareness of the limitations of a field and the desire to work hard to
transform it. This is primarily adaptation by external transformation,
although there are certainly internal aspects, such as the zeal to put
forth effort. Internal transformation involves sensitivity to one’s self and
the openness and willingness to modify one’s present ways of thinking
in order to construct a unique point of view. Thus, mature creators
adapt in both ways, modifying the environment to fit their schemes
and theories and modifying themselves to be able to accommodate to
the environment. This is not a meek or passive attempt to fit in. Rather,
according to Gruber (1989), it involves the active construction of a way
of looking at the world. It is not always conscious, but it is dynamic
and effortful. In both external and internal transformation, adapting
means being tolerant of uncertainty or ambiguity outside and in, being
willing to not have answers, to be wrong, to try alternatives.

A continuum of adaptive creative behaviors

Linkages are needed to connect childhood creative adaptation to
the type of creativity seen in eminent adults and to explain the more
mundane creativity found in the everyday lives of adults. I suggest
that one way to build these bridges is to think of creativity as a range
of adaptive behaviors along a continuum of seven developmental
levels. This continuum can help explain the processes and progress of
creativity itself (Cohen, 1989; in press).

11

Adaptation and creativity in cultural context / Cohen

The common element in the continuum: Discontinuity

Common to all levels on this continuum is the notion of a
discontinuity between what was before and the new. It is a jump in logical
types from the particular to the general, resulting in a new context. Piaget
(Cohen, 2006) defined this leap as reflective abstraction, a process of
reflecting on and putting events or thoughts into relationship, which leads
to new understandings not inherent in these thoughts or events. In this
continuum of adaptive, creative behaviors, the variables hinge on six aspects
related to context, person, process, and product, as described in Table 1.

Table 1
Variables in the Continuum of Adaptive Creative Behaviors

Aspect Variable Description

Context/
Person Adaptation

Initially, creativity involves adaptation of the
individual to the world. At the highest levels, it
involves adaptation of the world to the individual.
This shift occurs between Levels 4 and 5.

Process/
Person Purpose

The creator’s purpose shifts from mastery to
extension, and finally to transformation.

Process Speed

Creativity is rapid in early levels, involves more
time in each increasing level, and involves living
a creative life at the highest levels in which one’s
major focus is on creating, requiring many years
of effort.

Process Structure

Initially, the mental structures are very
incomplete and creativity involves construction
of these structures. At the opposite end, the
structures are very well-developed, and the
individual sees gaps, lags, and conflicts—limits
to the present level of understanding. Early levels
of creativity involve simple structures, a single
domain or scheme. Later creativity involves major
structural reorganization and transformation. The
goal is to push out the edges and to transform the
structures, constructing a point of view.

12

Revista de Psicología, Vol. 30 (1), 2012, pp. 3-18 (ISSN 0254-9247)

Product Novelty

In the first level, creative products or ideas
are new to the individual. They become rare
compared to age-peers, offer new combinations
of others’ ideas, and finally, are considered new
and transformational to the world at the two
highest levels.

Product Value The creative product is of value initially to the self, then to others and, finally, to the world.

The seven levels of the continuum of creative behaviors

At one end of the continuum is Level One, Learning Something
New: Universal Novelty. This type of creativity occurs in infants,
children, and adults as they deal with newness in their world. At the
opposite end of the continuum is Level Seven, Creating by Transforming
a Field, found only in a few individuals. In between are levels that
connect the universal creativity of childhood to eminent creativity.

Level 1: Learning Something New/Universal Novelty: Individuals
construct relationships new to themselves, but not new to the world;
also mundane, mini, or little c creativity. All new learners of a field
make the same constructions. Examples: Conserving number, learning
to push off the ice when skating the first time.

Level 2: Making Connections Rare Compared to Peers: Individuals
develop products, ideas, or approaches that are unusual compared to
peers but are not new to the world. Examples: A four-year-old focuses
on a pile of broken glass. Look, she says, here is a city with all the buildings
and busy people. And see this piece? This is a lonely child, envisioning an
onion to conceptualize layers in Bronfenbrenner’s ecological theory.

Level 3: Developing Talents: Individuals connect to and develop
skills in one or more domains, moving through a series of stages in which
abilities are honed, accumulated knowledge of a field is learned, and
craftsmanship developed, usually requiring expert teachers. Individuals
experience compulsion to work hard in the area of interest, setting a
variety of challenges to themselves. When heredity and environment

13

Adaptation and creativity in cultural context / Cohen

inextricably combine, a child’s products or abilities may approach
adult levels in prodigious development. Examples: Becoming good at
athletics, art, mathematics, writing, or fixing cars; playing violin with
the NY Philharmonic at age 10.

Level 4: Developing Heuristics: Through instruction, individuals
develop strategic ways of thinking in the domain; use creative problem
solving, critical thinking, and metacognition; and identify and cultivate
preferred ways of working and habits of mind. This level probably
develops simultaneously with Level 3, Developing Talents. Examples:
Being strategic in solving math problems; focusing on aesthetics to
develop awareness of beauty, harmony, and patterns.

Level 5: Producing Information: Individuals discover and investigate
their own real problems or burning questions related to areas of interest
and developing knowledge, producing new information that is valued
by self and others, although the scope is limited to an arena close to home.
The individual’s views begin to be imposed on the world. Adaptation
starts to shift from making self fit the world to changing the world a
little by one’s ideas and efforts. Example: A fourth grader tracks daily
growth in a litter of puppies over eight weeks, publishing her research
in a children’s magazine; an elderly citizen rallies a community to help
the homeless.

Level Six, Creating by Extending a Field: Having mastered a domain
to be aware of gaps, problems, or pressing issues, creators add a new
dimension or valuable information to that field, thereby extending that
domain of endeavor. They construct a partial point of view. Examples:
developing a new technique for surgery; writing an award-winning
dissertation.

Level Seven, Creating by Transforming a Field: Individuals, labeled
geniuses or renaissance persons by society, revolutionize a field or
create new ones. At this level, the field, and possibly even the world,
adapts to the creator by passing on the transformation to new learners,
contributing to a paradigm shift. Both individuals’ internal knowledge
structures and the field are transformed, a unique point of view is
constructed, and the product is highly valued. Examples: Piaget’s

14

Revista de Psicología, Vol. 30 (1), 2012, pp. 3-18 (ISSN 0254-9247)

equilibration theory; Roberto Burle Marx’s contributions to tropical
landscape design.

What most people consider creativity—production of something
new or very rare to the world that is of value—is reserved for Levels Six
and Seven on the Continuum. This is mature creativity because it involves
well-developed, extensive, and intricate knowledge systems representing
mastery of a field that typically requires ten years of effortful study and
practice to reach such levels (Csikszentmihalyi, 1999). In addition, this
type of creativity involves the regular solving of problems, not a one-
time occurrence (Gruber, 1989). Ethics become very important at these
levels. Creative products such as nuclear power or genetic engineering
may be valuable when they are produced, but their long-term effects are
unpredictable and potentially disastrous. Those with the most creative
potential carry the greatest moral responsibility for the ultimate effects
of their creative thought (Ambrose & Cross, 2009; Sternberg, 2007).

In this continuum, a shift in adaptation occurs between Levels Four
and Five. Prior to this point, the individual has been adapting to the
world. In Level Five, the world begins to adapt a bit to the individual.
To make such a shift usually requires facilitation from knowledgeable
and supportive adults, as well as the building of a knowledge and
experience base. School and work settings that encourage autonomy,
freshness of vision, and originality; the development of talents and
multiple strategies for thinking; as well as purposeful, self-set effort help
individuals make the shift and can lead to mature levels of creativity.

Conclusions and issues

Creative adaptation involves highly complex dynamics that depend
on a wide range of situational and cultural constraints. It involves both
short and long-term thought, action, and development. It brings forth
transformations within the individual as well as modifications, or even
paradigm shifts in the environmental context. It also involves a wide
range of cognitive, emotional, and motivational elements. In  short,

15

Adaptation and creativity in cultural context / Cohen

virtually all human faculties are called into play during creative
adaptation to environmental problems and opportunities. Ultimately,
adaptation is one of the most important issues of relevance to the
development of creativity.

Successful creative adaptation involves a number of paradoxes.
Creators need to destroy existing structures while maintaining safety
and harmony within the environmental and cultural context. They
must make major transformations to their own cognitive structures
while remaining resilient in the face of the inevitable attacks that
accompany creative work. They must perceive pressing and immediate
problems and opportunities in the environment while staying focused
on a long-term sense of purpose. This requires creative balancing of self
in the environment, reading the cultural and contextual requirements
and demonstrating adaptiveness as well as developing original ideas. If
one merely adapts to the will and the world of others, it is unlikely that
highly creative products can result. If on the other hand, the distance
between the world and the individual’s created product or performance
is too great, “pearls may be cast before swine” and the world will
not recognize the breakthroughs. Opposing prevailing paradigms or
cultural norms is always difficult if not dangerous. Although penalties
or even death were more prevalent in the past, anyone who has tried to
get major research funding for a far out idea faces the problem of critics
who cannot escape their own world view.

It is the long-term development of the individual along the
continuum of adaptive creative behaviors that enables the resolution
of these paradoxes. The broader, more integrative cognitive structures
and stronger sense of purpose one develops through progress along
the continuum help provide resilience and competence necessary for
successful adaptation of both self-to-world and the world-to-self, even
in the face of the difficulties imposed by creative work.

All of this raises one final issue relevant to considerations of
creative adaptation. To what extent should the creative adaptation
of one individual or group impinge on the opportunities for success of
another individual or group? This question brings into play profound

16

Revista de Psicología, Vol. 30 (1), 2012, pp. 3-18 (ISSN 0254-9247)

issues such as individual freedom, social Darwinism, class conflict,
exploitation, cultural context, and the moral-ethical implications
of creative products and processes. In a post-industrial era of rapid,
unpredictable change our answers to this question may determine our
chances for successful creative adaptation as a species.

References

Ambrose, D. & Cross, T. (Eds.). (2009). Morality, ethics, and gifted
minds. NY: Springer US.

Beghetto, R. A. & Kaufman, J. C. (2007). Toward a broader conception
of creativity: A case for “mini-c” creativity. Psychology of Aesthetics,
Creativity, and the Arts, 1(2), 73-79.

Cohen, L. M. (1989). A continuum of adaptive creative behaviors.
Creativity Research Journal, 2, 169-183.

Cohen, L. M. (2006). Equilibration. In N. J. Salkind (Ed.), Encyclopedia
of Human Development (Vol. 1, pp. 469-472). Thousand Oaks,
CA: Sage.

Cohen, L. M. (2009). Linear and network trajectories of creative lives:
A case study of Walter and Roberto Burle Marx. Psychology of
Aesthetics, Creativity, and the Arts, 3(4), 238-248.

Cohen, L. M. (in press). Adaptation, adaptiveness, and creativity. In R.
Runco & S. Pritzker (Eds.), Encyclopedia of creativity (2nd. ed.).
San Diego, CA: Elsevier.

Cohen, L. M. & Ambrose, D. A. (1999). Adaptation and creativity. In
R. Runco & S. Pritzker (Eds.), Encyclopedia of creativity (Vol. 1,
pp. 9-22). San Diego, CA: Academic Press.

Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1988). Optimal experience: Psychological studies
of flow in consciousness. Cambridge, NY: Cambridge University
Press.

Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1999). Implications of a systems perspective for
the study of creativity. In R. J. Sternberg (Ed.), Handbook of
creativity (pp. 313-335). New York: Cambridge University Press.

17

Adaptation and creativity in cultural context / Cohen

Feldman, D. H. (1980). Beyond universals in cognitive development.
Norwood, NJ: Ablex.

Feldman, D. H. (1999). The development of creativity. In R. H.
Sternberg (Ed.), Handbook of creativity (pp. 169-186). Boston,
MA: Cambridge University Press.

Gruber, H. E. & Wallace, D. (Eds.). (1989). Creative people at work.
New York: Oxford University Press.

Guilford, J. P. (1967). The nature of human intelligence. New York: Mc
Graw Hill.

Kauffman, S. (1995). At home in the universe: The search for laws of self-
organization and complexity. New York: Oxford University Press.

Kaufmann, G. (2004). Two kinds of creativity-But which ones? Creativity
and Innovation Management, 13(3), 154-165.

Kirton, M. (1994). Adapters and innovators: Styles of creativity and
problem solving (rev. ed.). New York: Routledge.

Piaget, J. (1980a). Adaptation and intelligence: Organic selection and
phenocopy. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press (Originally
published in French, 1974).

Piaget, J. (1981). Creativity: Moving force of society. Talk presented at
the 1972 Eisenhower Symposium, Johns Hopkins University,
Baltimore, MD. In J. M. C. Gallagher & D. K. Reid, The
learning theory of Piaget and Inhelder (p. 221). Monterrey, CA:
Brooks/Cole.

Rudowicz, E. (2003). Creativity and culture: A two way interaction.
Scandinavian Journal of Educational Research, 47, 273-290.

Runco, M. A. (1999). Tension, adaptability and creativity. In S. W. Russ
(Ed.), Affect, creative experience, and psychological adjustment (pp.
165-194). Philadelphia, PA: Taylor & Francis.

Runco, M. A. (2007). Developmental trends and influences on
creativity. In M. A. Runco (Ed.), Creativity theories and themes:
Research, development, and practice (pp. 39-70). Burlington, MA:
Elsevier Academic Press.

Schoon, I. (2006). Risk and resilience: Adaptations in changing times.
New York: Cambridge University Press.

18

Revista de Psicología, Vol. 30 (1), 2012, pp. 3-18 (ISSN 0254-9247)

Sternberg, R. J. (1990). Metaphors of mind: Conceptions of the nature of
intelligence. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Sternberg, R. J. (2007). Teaching for wisdom: What matters is not
just what students know, but how they use it. London Review of
Education, 5, 143-158.

Recibido: 24 de octubre, 2010
Aceptado: 31 de marzo, 2011

Copyright of Psicología (02549247) is the property of Pontificia Universidad Catolica del Peru and its content

may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder’s express

written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use.

Und

e

rstanding the Role of the ‘Self’ in the Social Priming
of Mimicry
Yin Wang*, Antonia F de C Hamilton

School of Psychology, University of Nottingham, Nottingham, United Kingdom

Abstract

People have a tendency to unconsciously mimic other’s actions. This mimicry has been regarded as a prosocial response
which increases social affiliation. Previous research on social priming of mimicry demonstrated an assimilative relationship
between mimicry and prosociality of the primed construct: prosocial primes elicit stronger mimicry whereas antisocial
primes decrease mimicry. The present research extends these findings by showing that assimilative and contrasting prime-
to-behavior effect can both happen on mimicry. Specifically, experiment 1 showed a robust contrast priming effect where
priming antisocial behaviors induces stronger mimicry than priming prosocial behaviors. In experiment 2, we manipulated
the self-relatedness of the pro/antisocial primes and further revealed that prosocial primes increase mimicry only when the
social primes are self-related whereas antisocial primes increase mimicry only when the social primes are self-unrelated. In
experiment 3, we used a novel cartoon movie paradigm to prime pro/antisocial behaviors and manipulated the perspective-
taking when participants were watching these movies. Again, we found that prosocial primes increase mimicry only when
participants took a first-person point of view whereas antisocial primes increase mimicry only when participants took a
third-person point of view, which replicated the findings in experiment 2. We suggest that these three studies can be best
explained by the active-self theory, which claims that the direction of prime-to-behavior effects depends on how primes are
processed in relation to the ‘self’.

Citation: Wang Y, Hamilton AFd C (2013) Understanding the Role of the ‘Self’ in the Social Priming of Mimicry. PLoS ONE 8(4): e60249. doi:10.1371/
journal.pone.0060249

Editor: Manos Tsakiris, Royal Holloway, University of London, United Kingdom

Received December 20, 2012; Accepted February 24, 2013; Published April 2, 2013

Copyright: � 2013 Wang, Hamilton. This is an open-access article distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License, which permits
unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original author and source are credited.

Funding: This work was supported by Economic and Social Research Council (ESRC: http://www.esrc.ac.uk/) Small Research Grant ES/J006793/1 (to AH). The
funders had no role in study design, data collection and analysis, decision to publish, or preparation of the manuscript.

Competing Interests: The authors have declared that no competing interests exist.

* E-mail: mirrorneuronwang@gmail.com

Introduction

People have a tendency to unconsciously imitate other’s actions,

termed ‘‘mimicry’’ [1]. This mimicry plays a critical role in

creating social bonds between people and has been regarded as a

behavioral strategy for social affiliation [2–4]. Although mimicry is

not normally conscious controlled, previous studies show that

mimicry is a subtle and flexible behavior which is sensitive to

multiple social factors such as prosociality, affiliation goals and self-

other distinction [5–8]. The present paper explores the interaction

of these social factors using priming paradigms.

Several studies so far have examined how prosocial or antisocial

primes influence mimicry. Increased mimicry following exposure

to prosocial or affiliative stimuli has commonly been found,

compared to antisocial and non-social stimuli [9–13]. For

example, by using a test of visual acuity, Lakin and Chartrand

[9] exposed participants to subliminal words related to the

conception of affiliation (e.g. affiliate/together) and found more

mimicry in a subsequent interaction. van Baaren et al., [10] had

participants complete a ‘scrambled sentence’ task in which

sentences contained affiliative (e.g. group/cooperate) or disaffilia-

tive (e.g. unique/alone) words. They found that more mimicry

behavior was induced in affiliative priming conditions than in

disaffiliative conditions. Using a novel stimulus-response compat-

ibility approach to measure mimicry, Leighton et al., [11] and

Cook & Bird [12,13] both found that priming sentences contained

prosocial words (e.g. sociable/agreeable) increases mimicry while

priming sentences contained antisocial words (e.g. rebel/selfish)

decreases mimicry.

The dominant explanation of the prosociality priming effects

above suggests that prosocial primes directly activate a goal to

affiliate [6,9,14,15]. This explanation is based on the goal-

activation theory of prime-to-behavior effects [16] which claims

that a given prime directly activates a goal, which then

automatically leads to pursuit of that goal. For example, when

participants are exposed to words related to the concept of

affiliation, they activate an affiliation goal and then show more

affiliative behavior including more mimicry.

This goal-activation explanation has also been applied to a

series of studies where mimicry is increased following a threat to a

participant’s affiliative needs. For example, people who were

primed with unsuccessful affiliation [9], ostracism [17,18] and

social isolation (e.g. feeling too distinct from others, Uldall et al.,

unpublished data, cited by [5]) mimic a subsequent interaction

partner more than people in a control condition. Here, it is

claimed that ostracism or isolation primes strongly activate one’s

goal/desire to affiliate with others, and thus lead to more mimicry

behavior. However, if priming either with prosocial concepts (e.g.

affiliative words) or antisocial concepts (e.g. disaffiliation threat)

can lead to increased mimicry, it becomes hard to make specific

predictions about the direction of priming effects.

Looking more broadly at priming of behavior (not just mimicry),

an increasing number of studies showed contrast results in prime-

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 1 April 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 4 | e60249

e

to-behavior effects where the prime-induced behavior is the

opposite of the primed goal or concept. For example, early studies

suggest that priming of the concept of ‘‘elderly’’ caused

participants to walk slower and priming of the concept of

intelligence caused participants to perform better on an intellectual

task [16,19]. However, Dijksterhuis et al., [20] found that priming

with an exemplar of an older person (e.g. the 89 year old Dutch

Queen Mother) or an exemplar of an intelligent person (e.g.

Einstein) can lead to the opposite effect, with quicker walking

speed and worse performance on the intellectual task.

Dijksterhuis et al., [21] suggest these opposing effects can be

best understood in terms of how the prime is processed in relation

to the self, and Wheeler et al. [22] takes this further in defining the

role of the self-concept in the control of prime-to-behavior effects.

In their ‘active-self’ model (see a review [23]), it is proposed that

the representation of the self-concept has two components, the

chronic self-concept and active self-concept. The chronic self-

concept concerns all of the self-concept information that is stored

in long-term memory, whereas the active self-concept refers to a

subset of chronic self-concept content that is currently accessible

and active and used to guide behavior. The active self-concept can

shift rapidly in response to environmental perceptual inputs, and

thus primed constructs could affect behavior by altering the active

self-

concept.

There are several differences between goal-activation theory

[16] and active-self theory [23]. First, the goal-activation theory

suggests that prime constructs directly activate goal representations

with no intervening processes. In contrast, the active-self theory

suggests that the prime-to-behavior effects are mediated by active

self-concept. Prime constructs first influence one’s understanding

of the self, which then activates corresponding behavioral

representation. This means that the interplay between the prime

and the ‘self’ determines which behavioral representation will

guide

behavior.

Second, these two theories make different predictions for prime-

to-behavior effects. The goal-activation theory predicts that primes

should directly activate congruent goals leading to congruent

behavior. This theory can only account for cases where behavior is

incongruent with the priming material by suggesting that this

priming material engaged a different goal. In contrast, the active-

self model allows both congruent and incongruent behavior to

occur, depending on how the primed construct interacts with the

active self-concept. This means that many potential modulators of

the active self-concept (e.g. self-comparison, self-relatedness,

perspective-taking) can influence that prime-to-behavior effect

despite being independent of the primed concept. For example,

although priming intelligence-related words such as ‘smart’ usually

induces an assimilative self-concept (i.e. ‘I am smart’) and

assimilative behavior (i.e. better performance in a following

intellectual task), priming concrete and distinct intelligent exem-

plars such as ‘Einstein’ induces a contrasting self-concept (i.e. ‘I am

no Einstein, I am not smart, I am dumb.’) and contrasting

behavior (i.e. bad performance in the intellectual task) [20]. Thus,

the active-self model permits the prediction of a wide range of

effects that are not easily derived from the direct goal-activation

framework.

Previous studies examined the active-self model mainly in

stereotype-related behavior, e.g. ‘Einstein and intelligent behavior’

[24], ‘elderly exemplars and walking speed behavior’ [25,26] and

‘African-Americans and aggression behavior’ [27]. In the present

paper, we examine if this model is also relevant to priming of

stereotype-unrelated behavior such as mimicry. The flexibility of

the active-self model suggests that it could provide a powerful

means to explain previous mixed results where both prosocial and

antisocial primes lead to more mimicry. However, this has not yet

been tested directly. Here we report three experiments which

examined the effect of prosocial and antisocial primes on mimicry

behavior, while maintaining careful control of the self-relatedness

of the primes.

Unlike many previous studies of social priming on automatic

behaviors where the impact of the prime was measured on a

single, natural setting task (e.g. walking speed [19] or number of

mimicry actions [9]), our approach in present study builds on the

recent finding that mimicry responses can be recorded in more

carefully controlled lab tasks (i.e. the stimulus-response compat-

ibility tasks) with multiple trials per participants (see a review paper

[28]) and that these lab tasks show the same priming effects as

natural encounters [11–13,29]. In particular, we chose the ‘finger-

tapping task’ to measure mimicry [30–32] where participants had

to move their index or middle finger in response to a number while

viewing incongruent or congruent finger movements on a

computer screen. Previous research found faster responses to

congruent than incongruent actions and took this congruency

effect as an accurate and reliable measure of mimicry [28]. Here

we aim to examine how prosocial and antisocial primes influence

this congruency effect, whether via goal-activation or active self-

concept.

Experiment 1

Experiment 1 was primarily a pilot study which aimed to test if

priming with pro/antisocial sentences has an impact on mimicry

as measured with our finger tapping task. This provides a basic

manipulation check of the validity of our approach. Our design is

very similar to Leighton et al. [11], though this study was

conducted before we were aware of Leighton’s findings. Partic-

ipants first completed a traditional scrambled sentences task (‘the

priming stage’) and then took a finger-tapping task (‘the mimicry

recording stage’). The scrambled sentences described either

prosocial interactions or antisocial interaction between two

characters. For example, one prosocial prime was ‘Larry shares

his chocolate ice cream with Kitty; one antisocial prime was ‘Eric

plays loud music to interrupt Sarah studying’. Non-social, factual

sentences were also used as a control condition (e.g. ‘A rainbow is

made of seven different colours’). Unlike the between-subjects

priming design in Leighton et al. [11], here we used a within-

subjects design which presented all priming stimuli (prosocial,

antisocial and non-social) to each participant in different blocks, to

remove effects due to individual difference in mimicry. We

expected that priming with prosocial interactions would give

participants the goal to affiliate and lead to stronger mimicry as

shown by Leighton et al., [11]. However, our results surprised us

and lead us to conduct the studies reported later.

Participants
Nineteen students (average age 23.8; S.D. 2.81 years; 14 women

and 5 men) took part in Experiment 1. All were right-handed,

proficient in the English language, had normal or corrected-to-

normal vision and naı̈ve as to the purpose of the study. This

experiment was approved by the Ethics Committee of the school

of psychology of the University of Nottingham. Participants gave

written consent to participate in this experiment and were paid for

their participation.

Methods and materials
The priming manipulation was presented in the form of the

‘‘Scrambled Sentence Test’’ [33] in an A4 booklet. For each test

sentence, two words were already presented in the correct order in

Social Priming of Mimicry and Self-Relatedness

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 2 April 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 4 | e60249

the answer sheet and participants were required to use the other

six words out of a list of seven to construct a grammatically and

semantically correct eight-word sentence. Three types of scram-

bled-sentences were constructed (Figure 1): one was designed to

prime prosocial behavior between two fictional characters (e.g.,

‘‘John gives Laura a warm and affectionate hug’’, ‘‘Frank and

Mary cooperate to make model planes’’); another was to prime

participants with an antisocial behavior between two characters

(e.g., ‘‘Sam makes Jane weep for a long time’’, ‘‘Paul destroys

Angelina’s new toy train on purpose’’), and a third was intended to

prime neutral non-social information (e.g., ‘‘A rainbow is made of

seven different colours’’, ‘‘London is the capital of the United

Kingdom’’) (see Text S1 for all sentences).

Participants completed one page at a time from the booklet.

Each page contained four sentences and they were all designed to

prime the same category of social behaviors (prosocial, antisocial

or non-social). Participants could use pencil to write anything on

the page for assistance but had to complete the four sentences as

quickly as possible. In order to consolidate the priming effect,

participants were also required to read their answers to the

experimenter for a correction check when they finished each page.

To measure spontaneous mimicry, we used a ‘‘finger tapping

task’’ [30,31,34]. On each trial, two-frame video sequences of a left

hand were displayed on a computer monitor (Figure 1). The first

frame showed a left hand resting above a desk, with a white box

superimposed on the hand. The second frame showed one of two

numbers (1 or 2) on the white box and meanwhile the left hand

was performing an finger tapping movement either using index

finger or middle finger. The left hand in the video was oriented to

appear like a mirror reflection of the participant’s own right hand.

Using their dominant right hand, participants were instructed to

press a key with the index finger if they saw number 1 in the white

box, and press a key with the middle finger if they saw number 2 in

the white box. They were asked to always respond to the number

cue as fast as they can and ignore the hand action in the

background. The interval between two frames varied (600, 1200,

1800 ms) to prevent anticipatory responding.

Trials were organized in three types. In congruent trials, the

hand in the video frame executed an identical finger movement to

the instructed movement (e.g. number 1 + see index finger
movement), while in incongruent trials the movement executed by

the hand on the screen was different from the instructed

movement (e.g. number 2 + see index finger movement). In
baseline trials, the hand on the screen did not perform any hand

movement, but the number still appeared. Past studies found that

observing an action automatically activates the motor represen-

tation of that action [31,32]. Therefore in congruent trials reaction

times are facilitated by the mimicry of observed action.

Incongruent trials lead to slower responses because the required

action must be enforced over the natural tendency to mimic.

Figure 1. Examples of the priming sentences in the scrambled-sentence task and the hand movement stimuli in the finger-taping
task. Each time participants had to complete one page of scrambled sentences describing pro/anti/non-social behaviours on a booklet and then one
block of finger tapping task on a computer where they had to respond to a number cue in the middle of the screen and ignored a congruent/
incongruent/still hand movement stimuli on the background. They had to complete twelve pages of scrambled-sentence task and twelve blocks of
finger tapping task alternately.
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0060249.g001

Social Priming of Mimicry and Self-Relatedness

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 3 April 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 4 | e60249

Mimicry is assessed by calculating the congruency effect (CE)—the

reaction time difference between congruent trials and incongruent

trials [11–13,28,35]. There were 12 incongruent trials, 12

congruent trials and 12 baselines in each block of the finger

tapping task and they were presented in a pseudo-randomized

order.

Design and procedure
Participants were told that they were taking part in two

independent tests of language proficiency and motor control

ability, and that the two tests would be alternated to reduce

boredom [36]. They had to complete twelve pages of the

scrambled-sentence task alternating with twelve blocks of the

finger tapping task. The order of the priming pages was fully

counterbalanced across participants to prevent practice or carry-

over effects impacting on the results. At the end of the study,

participants were debriefed to ascertain whether they had guessed

the purpose

of the experiment.

In order to make participants familiar with these two tasks, they

performed a practice session before all the testing sessions. There

were three scrambled sentences for practice, each exemplifying

one type of priming (prosocial, antisocial and non-social). A short

version of the finger tapping task was also prepared for practice,

with 5 incongruent trials, 5 congruent trials and 5 baselines trials

in a pseudo-randomized order. Cogent running in Matlab was

used to present the finger tapping task and record data.

Results
To remove trials where participants did not attend to the

number stimuli, incorrect responses (0.10%) were excluded from

the analysis, as were all RTs smaller than 100 ms or greater

800 ms (0.48%). To minimize the effect of outliers, we also

excluded RTs that were greater than two standard deviations from

the conditional means of each participant (0.36%). The congru-

ency effect (CE) for each participant was calculated by subtracting

reaction time (RT) in congruent trials from RT in incongruent

trials. Figure 2 shows both CE and RT data for each priming

group.

In order to test whether mimicry was influenced by the priming

sentences in our experimental task, a repeated measures analysis of

variance (ANOVA) was conducted on mean RT with congruency

(congruent, incongruent, baseline) and primes (prosocial, antiso-

cial, non-social) as variables. The analysis revealed a significant

main effect of congruency (F(2,36) = 26.3, p,0.001) with a faster
response in congruent trials (M = 429 ms, S.E. 30.24) and a slower

response in incongruent trials (M = 447 ms, S.E. 35.2); the

response in baseline trials was intermediate (M = 436 ms, S.E.

30.5). This main effect of congruency confirmed the success of

mimicry measurement in our experimental task. In addition, the

ANOVA also revealed a significant interaction between congru-

ency and primes (F(4,72) = 3.52, p,0.011), which suggests that
mimicry was modulated by the priming sentences. In order to test

whether this congruency 6 primes interaction was mainly driven
by congruent and incongruent conditions, but not the baseline

condition, we further conducted a repeated measures ANOVA on

baseline trials only, with primes (prosocial, antisocial, non-social)

as variables. No significant main effect of primes was found on

baseline trials (F(2, 36) = 2.20, p = 0.126), which suggests that the

interaction was driven by the congruent and incongruent

conditions.

To further examine the priming effect on mimicry, a repeated

measures ANOVA was conducted on mean CE with primes

(prosocial, antisocial, non-social) as variables. The analysis

revealed a significant main effect of primes on CE

(F(2,36) = 4.76, p,0.015) (Figure 2A), which is consistent with
previous congruency 6primes interaction on RT. Specifically, the
antisocial priming group induced a stronger CE (M = 25.7 ms,

S.E. 18.0) than the non-social (M = 14.8 ms, S.E. 11.8) and

prosocial priming group (M = 13.6 ms, S.E. 18.0). Post hoc t-test

showed the CE in antisocial priming group is significantly larger

than the one in non-social (t (18) = 2.52, p,0.022) and in prosocial
priming group (t (18) = 2.81, p,0.012), but there was no difference
between the prosocial and non-social priming groups (t (18) = 0.24,

p = 0.813).

Discussion
The results of experiment 1 surprised us. Priming with

scrambled sentences describing pro and anti-social behaviors did

impact on mimicry, but not in the predicted direction. Our data

showed a prime-incongruent effect on mimicry that participants

had stronger mimicry following antisocial priming than prosocial

and non-social priming (Figure 2A). These results contradict the

very similar study by Leighton et al. [11], which found stronger

mimicry following prosocial priming in the same task. It is

Figure 2. Results in Experiment 1. (A) Mean Congruency Effect (CE) for the three types of priming (prosocial antisocial and non-social). Asterisks
represent the statistically significant difference between two bars. Vertical bars indicate standard error. (B) Mean Reaction Time in milliseconds (ms)
for participants in each of the three priming groups on congruent, incongruent and baseline trials. Italic numbers indicate standard deviation.
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0060249.g002

Social Priming of Mimicry and Self-Relatedness

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 4 April 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 4 | e60249

therefore important to understand why our study yielded results

which contrast so strongly with Leighton’s study.

One possible reason is simply that our study and Leighton’s

were conducted in different labs with different experimental

setups. For example, we used a within-subjects design whereas

Leighton used a between-subjects design, and we used finger-

tapping task while they used a hand-opening task. These

explanations seem unlikely. Instead, we hypothesized that the

different results are due to some subtle factors in the priming

sentences themselves. Our study only used very concrete prime

sentences which were unrelated to the self. Participants read about

two people in harmony/conflict but were not engaged in the

harmony/conflict themselves (e.g. ‘‘John gives Laura a warm and

affectionate hug’’, ‘‘Robin harshly blames the project failure on

Amy’’). In contrast, Leighton’s priming stimuli were more abstract

and self-related sentences and participants were to some extent

involved in the primes (e.g. ‘‘She is my friend’’, ‘‘We are against

this’’). The idea that the self-relatedness of the prime influences the

direction of the priming effects is not easy to understand under the

goal-activation theory, but can potentially be explained by the

active-self account. This account emphasizes the importance of the

‘self’ in determining the magnitude and direction of priming effects

on behavior [23]. Under this account, the difference in self-

relatedness of the priming sentences could lead to assimilative or

contrasting prime-to-behavior effects and thus account for the

different results between Leighton’s study and ours.

Experiment 2

tests this possibility.

Experiment 2

In experiment 2, we aim to examine whether the contrast effects

in experiment 1 come from the self-relatedness of the primes. We

produced entirely new two sets of scrambled sentences with pro/

anti/social primes but manipulated the self-relatedness of those

primes. Specifically, the first set described the pro/anti social

behaviors from the third-person perspective, just like the sentences

in experiment 1 (e.g. ‘‘Greg encourages others to be friends with

Lauren’’, ‘‘Joe cruelly bullied Stephanie about her weight

problem’’). The second set used the same structure, but each

sentence was modified by replacing the first character with ‘I’ or

‘we’ and thus presented the behavior from the first-person

perspective (e.g. ‘‘We encourage others to be friends with

Lauren’’). In the antisocial sentences, ‘I’ or ‘we’ was always the

protagonist rather than the victim of the antisocial behavior (‘‘I

cruelly bullied Stephanie about her weight problem’’). In this way,

all the pro/antisocial behaviors in the first-person and third-person

perspective version were identical, except that the former were

self-related and the latter were not.

As previous studies found that priming from self-focus or first-

person-perspective-taking enhances assimilative behavior whereas

priming from other-focus or third-person-perspective-taking

enhances contrasting behavior [22,23,27,37–40], we predicted

that the third-person group would replicate the contrast priming

effects in Experiment 1 where more mimicry was induced by third-

person antisocial primes than by third-person prosocial primes. In

contrast, priming from a first-person perspective should allow the

primed concept to be assimilated into the participant’s behavior,

so that first-person prosocial primes should induce more mimicry

behavior. This would replicate the pattern of previous studies

where prosocial primes induce more mimicry than antisocial

primes [9–11].

Participants
Thirty-two right-handed, native English speaking undergradu-

ate students (average age 20.4; S.D. 1.88 years; 22 women and 10

men) participated in Experiment 2. None of them had participated

in Experiment 1. Half of the participants (11 women and 5 men)

were randomly assigned to the 3rd person perspective group, the

other half to the 1
st

person perspective group. Again, this

experiment was approved by the Ethics Committee of the school
of psychology of the University of Nottingham. Participants gave
written consent to participate in this experiment and were paid for
their participation.

Methods, materials, design and procedure
These were the same as those in experiment 1, except that two

new sets of scrambled-sentence task were prepared for each

perspective-taking group. For the third person perspective group,

12 pages of entirely new scrambled sentences were remade: 4

pages of prosocial behavior priming, 4 pages of antisocial behavior

priming and 4 pages of non-social priming (see Text S2 for all

sentences). For the first person perspective group, we adopted the

same sentences but just changed the first character’s name into ‘‘I’’

or ‘‘We’’. The non-social priming sentences in first and third

person group were the same.

Results
The same procedure as Experiment 1 was implemented on raw

RT data, to remove incorrect responses (0.08%) and RT outliers

(0.93%). First, in order to examine whether self-relatedness can

alter the priming effects on mimicry, a three-way repeated

measures ANOVA was conducted on participants‘ mean RT,

with congruency (congruent, incongruent, baseline), primes

(prosocial, antisocial, non-social) and self-relatedness (3
rd
-person,

1
st
-person) as variables (Figure 3A). The three-way ANOVA

analysis revealed a significant main effect of congruency

(F(2,60) = 51.34, p,0.001) and a significant three-way interaction:
congruency 6 primes 6 self-relatedness (F(4,120) = 4.84,
p,0.001). Second, in order to test whether this three-way
interaction was mainly driven by congruent and incongruent

conditions, but not the baseline condition, we conducted a

repeated measures ANOVA on baseline trials only, with primes

(prosocial, antisocial, non-social) and self-relatedness (3rd-person,

1st-person) as variables. The result showed no interaction between

primes and self-relatedness on baseline trials (F(2,60) = 1.55,

p = 0.221), which suggests that the three-way interaction was

driven by the congruent and

incongruent conditions.

We then performed a two-way ANOVA on participants’ CE

with primes (prosocial, antisocial, non-social) and self-relatedness

(3rd-person, 1st-person) as variables. In line with the three-way

interaction on RT, the two-way ANOVA analysis on CE revealed

a significant main effect of primes (F(2,60) = 3.80, p,0.028) and a
significant two-way interaction: primes 6 self-relatedness
(F(2,60) = 14.13, p,0.001). These results suggest that the priming
effects on mimicry between two perspective-taking groups were

significantly different.

In order to further examine the specific priming effect on

mimicry in each perspective-taking group, we conducted a

repeated measures ANOVA analysis for each group, on mean

CE with primes (prosocial, antisocial, non-social) as variables. The

analysis revealed a significant main effect of primes on CE in both

3
rd
-person (F(2,30) = 11.87, p,0.001) and 1

st
-person

(F(2,30) = 6.59, p,0.004) group (Figure 3B). For 3
rd
-person group,

post-hoc t-test showed that the CE in antisocial priming condition

was significantly larger than the one in prosocial (t (15) = 5.02,

p,0.001) and non-social (t (15) = 3.53, p,0.003) priming condi-

Social Priming of Mimicry and Self-Relatedness

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 5 April 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 4 | e60249

tion, which replicated the results in experiment 1. In contrast,

post-hoc t-test in 1
st
-person group showed that CE in prosocial

priming condition was significantly larger than the one in

antisocial priming condition (t (15) = 3.32, p,0.005) and non-
social (t (15) = 3.16, p,0.007) priming condition, which was
compatible with the findings of Leighton et al. 2010. When we

directly compared the priming effects on CE between two self-

relatedness groups, we found that antisocial priming effect was

significantly larger in the 3
rd

person group than in the 1

st
person

group (t(30) = 2.87, p,0.007) while prosocial priming effect was
significantly smaller in the 3

rd
person group than in the 1

st
person

group (t(30) = 2.17, p,0.039); the priming effects in two non-social
priming conditions were not significantly different (t (30) = 0.002,

p = 0.998).

Discussion
The results in Experiment 2 clearly show that self-relatedness

determines the direction of the social priming on mimicry. Just as

we predicted, the results in third-person group replicated the

contrasting priming effect in experiment 1 with a new group of

participants; and the results in first-person group replicated the

assimilative pattern in Leighton and previous studies. Specifically,

antisocial behavior primes increase mimicry only in the third-

person group whereas prosocial behavior primes increase mimicry

only in the first–person group. These results demonstrate that the

differences between the results of Leighton et al [11] and our

experiment 1 are due to the self-relatedness of the primes, and not

to other extraneous factors. The data also support the active-self

model of priming effects, rather than a goal-activation model.

Before considering the theoretical implications of this result in

detail, we wanted to confirm its robustness and reliability. In

particular, we aimed to test if this same response pattern can be

obtained with a different priming method.

Experiment 3

In Experiment 3, we aimed to test whether the results in

Experiment 2 can be replicated by using other priming methods.

Instead of using the scrambled sentence task, we developed a novel

video priming approach where participants first watched cartoon

movies depicting pro-/antisocial behavior between three animate

shapes (i.e. helper, hinderer, and bystander) and then completed a

story-telling task. This non-verbal priming method is based on the

finding that adults and children can perceive the behavior of

simple animate shapes in terms of complex interactions such as

theory of mind and prosocial behavior [41,42]. Observation of

animate shapes behaving in pro/antisocial fashion can prime pro/

antisocial behavior in children [18,42]. In order to manipulate the

self-relatedness of the social primes, here participants were

required to take the perspective of one animate shape when

watching the video and to describe the story from that shape’s

point view in the story-telling task. For example, if participants

were going to be primed with self-related prosocial behavior, they

would be asked to watch a prosocial video from the perspective of

the helper and to tell the story from the helper’s point of view; in

contrast, if participants were going to be primed with self-

unrelated antisocial behavior, they would be asked to watch an

antisocial video from the perspective of a bystander and to

describe the story as they were the bystander shape. Compared to

the scrambled sentence task, participants were never exposed to

any pre-defined pro/antisocial words; instead, they chose their

own way to describe their understanding of the pro/antisocial

videos. Therefore, this approach provided a more natural, vivid

and ecologically valid way to present social primes.

Unlike the between-subject design of experiment 2 where

participants were randomly allocated into two perspective-taking

groups, here we used a fully within-subject design for the priming

of prosociality and self-relatedness (i.e. each participant had both

first and third person perspective when watching the pro/

antisocial videos). This allows us to remove possible individual

differences in performance, and prepare for future neuroimaging

studies. We predict that, like experiment 2, prosocial cartoon

primes increase mimicry only when viewed from a first-person

perspective and antisocial cartoon primes increase mimicry only

when viewed from a third-person

perspective.

Participants
Eighteen right-handed, native English speaking undergraduate

students (average age 20.1; S.D. 1.49 years; 11 women and 7 men)

participated in Experiment 3. None of them had participated in

Experiment 1 or 2. The experiment was approved by the Ethics

Committee of the school of psychology of the University of

Nottingham. Participants gave written consent to participate in

this experiment and were paid for their participation.

Methods and materials
We adopted a cartoon movie paradigm [42] to prime pro/

antisocial behavior. Two scenarios of simple social interactions

were provided. In Scenario A (see Figure 4A), participants saw a

character (the ‘‘triangle shape’’) initially at the bottom of a hill and

then repeatedly attempted to push a football up onto the hill. On

Figure 3. Results in Experiment 2. (A) Mean reaction time in
milliseconds (ms) for participants in each of two perspective-taking
groups (3rd person and 1st person), each of three priming groups
(prosocial, antisocial and non-social), and each of three congruency
conditions (congruent, incongruent and baseline trials). Italic numbers
indicate standard deviation (B) Mean CE for participants in each of two
perspective-taking groups and each of three priming groups. Asterisks
represent the statistically significant difference between two bars.
Vertical bars indicate standard error.
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0060249.g003

Social Priming of Mimicry and Self-Relatedness

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 6 April 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 4 | e60249

the third attempt, the ball-pusher was either aided up by a helper

(the ‘sphere’ shape) who pushed it from behind (‘‘prosocial’’

condition), or was resisted by a hinderer (the ‘‘pentagon’’ shape)

who pushed the ball down to the bottom of the hill (‘‘antisocial’’

condition). In Scenario B (see Figure 4B), participants saw a

character (the ‘‘square shape’’) initially outside of a doughnut

house and then repeatedly attempted to get into the house by

pushing the stone out of the way to the entrance. On the third

attempt, the stone-pusher was either aided by a helper (the

‘‘triangle’’ shape) who pushed it from behind (‘‘prosocial’’

condition), or was resisted by a hinderer (the ‘‘sphere’’ shape)

who pushed the stone from the opposite direction (‘‘antisocial’’

condition).

There were eight types of cartoon movie (Figure 4) and each

movie lasted 30 seconds. Each movie involved three cartoon

characters with human-like eyes: a ball/stone pusher, a helper/

hinderer, and a bystander (always sits at the left-bottom of the

movie). Either the helper/hinderer or the bystander was coloured

yellow and the other shapes were white.

Design and procedure
Participants were ostensibly told that they were going to

complete two independent tasks: a story telling task to measure

their language ability and a finger tapping task to measure their

motor control ability. In the story-telling task, participants were

required to imagine themselves as the yellow-colored cartoon

character when watching the movie and afterwards to write down

the story from that point of view. In half of the movies, the helper/

hinderer was yellow-colored, so participants had to write down the

pro-/anti-social story from a first-person perspective. In the other

half where the bystander was yellow-colored, participants had to

write down the pro-/anti- social story from a third-person

perspective. To assure the perspective-taking manipulation,

participants were asked to describe the story in a pre-defined

structure. For example, when participants were watching a

prosocial story from a first-person perspective (see Figure 4A,

up-left), they had to complete sentences like this: ‘‘The white

sphere is trying to……; and I am trying to……’’; when

participants watching an antisocial story from a third person

perspective (see Figure 4A, down-right), they had to complete

sentences like this: ‘‘I am watching……; The white sphere is trying

to……; The white triangle is trying to……’’. This design allows us

to enforce perspective taking without ever using the words

‘‘helper’’ or ‘‘hinder’’ or other pro/antisocial labels to the

participants.

Each participant had to complete eight story telling task (2

scenarios62 pro/antisocial priming62 perspective-taking) alter-
nating with eight blocks of the finger tapping task. The order of the

cartoon movies was fully counterbalanced across participants to

prevent practice or carry-over effects impacting on the results. The

finger tapping task in Experiment 3 was identical to previous two

experiments (i.e. 12 incongruent, 12 congruent and 12 baseline

trials in a block of the finger tapping task and they were in a

pseudo-randomized order). At the end of the study, participants

were debriefed to ascertain whether they had guessed the purpose

of the experiment.

Results and Discussion
The same procedure as Experiment 1 and 2 was implemented

on raw RT data, to remove incorrect responses (0.15%) and RT

Figure 4. Pro/antisocial cartoons in Experiment 3. (A) In scenario A, participants saw a character (the ‘triangle shape’) initially at the bottom of a
hill and attempted to push a football up onto the hill twice, each time falling back to the bottom of the hill. On the third attempt, the ball-pusher was
either aided up by a helper (the ‘sphere’ shape) who pushed it from behind (‘prosocial scene’), or was resisted by a hinderer (the ‘pentagon’ shape)
who pushed the ball down to the bottom of the hill (‘antisocial’ scene). There was also a bystander (the ‘square’ shape) standing at the top of another
hill, watching the whole pro/antisocial behavior happening. (B) In Scenario B, participants saw a character (the ‘square shape’) initially outside of a
doughnut house and then repeatedly attempted to get into the house by pushing the stone out of the way to the entrance. On the third attempt,
the stone-pusher was either aided by a helper (the ‘triangle’ shape) who pushed it from behind (‘prosocial’ scene), or was resisted by a hinderer (the
‘sphere’ shape) who pushed the stone from the opposite direction (‘antisocial’ scene). There was also a bystander (the ‘pentagon’ shape) standing at
the left-bottom corner, watching the whole pro/antisocial behavior happening. In all scenarios, the participant was asked to describe the story from
the point of view of the yellow shape, which could be either the helper/hinder (first-person) or the bystander (third-person).
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0060249.g004

Social Priming of Mimicry and Self-Relatedness

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 7 April 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 4 | e60249

outliers (0.85%). First, in order to examine whether perspective-

taking can alter the priming effects on mimicry, a three-way

repeated measures ANOVA was conducted on participants’ mean

RT, with congruency (congruent, incongruent, baseline), primes

(prosocial, antisocial) and perspective-taking (first-person, third-

person) as variables (Figure 5A). The three-way ANOVA analysis

revealed a significant main effect of congruency (F(2,34) = 19.05,

p,0.001) and a significant three-way interaction: congruency 6
primes 6 perspective-taking (F(2,34) = 10.17, p,0.001). Second,
in order to test whether this three-way interaction was mainly

driven by congruent and incongruent conditions, but not the

baseline condition, we conducted a repeated measures ANOVA

on baseline trials only, with primes (prosocial, antisocial) and self-

relatedness (3rd-person, 1st-person) as variables. The result

showed no interaction between primes and self-relatedness in

baseline condition (F(1,17) = 0.811, p = 0.380), which suggests that

the early three-way interaction was driven by the congruent and

incongruent conditions.
We then performed a two-way ANOVA on participants’ CE

with primes (prosocial, antisocial) and perspective-taking (first-

person, third-person) as variables. In line with the three-way

interaction on RT, the two-way ANOVA analysis revealed a

significant two-way interaction on CE: primes 6 perspective-
taking (F(1,17) = 27.59, p,0.001)(Figure 5B). For the third-person

group, post-hoc t-test showed that the CE in antisocial condition

was significantly larger than the one in prosocial condition (t

(17) = 2.42, p,0.027). For the first-person group, the CE in
prosocial condition was significantly larger than the one in

antisocial condition (t (17) = 3.07, p,0.007). When comparing
the pro/antisocial priming effects between two perspective-taking

groups, we found that the CE in third-person antisocial condition

was significantly larger than the one in first-person antisocial

condition (t (17) = 3.89, p,0.001) and the CE in third-person
prosocial condition was significantly smaller than the one first-

person prosocial condition (t (17) = 2.27, p,0.037). Taken
together, these results replicate previous results in Experiment 1

and 2 by using a new priming method, and suggest that the

antisocial primes enhance mimicry only in third-person perspec-

tive while prosocial primes enhance mimicry only in first-person

perspective.

General Discussion

In the present study, we investigate the underlying mechanism

of social priming on mimicry. Three experiments provide

converging evidence that the self-relatedness of a prime substan-

tially influences the social priming of mimicry. Specifically,

experiment 1 demonstrated a surprising contrast priming effects

on mimicry. By using third-person pro/antisocial primes, we

found antisocial primes induce stronger mimicry than prosocial

primes. In experiment 2, we further verified that priming with

first-person prosocial sentences increases mimicry, but priming

with third-person antisocial sentences also increases mimicry.

Finally, in experiment 3, we replicated the same results of

experiment 2 by using a new cartoon priming approach. Again,

prosocial primes increase mimicry only when participants take a

first-person perspective and antisocial primes increase mimicry

only when participants take a third-person perspective. Taken

together, these findings provide direct evidence that the self-

relatedness of a prime has a critical role in the control of mimicry

behavior.

These results are important for several reasons. First they may

help us understand why some priming studies yield mixed results,

and point to more effective methods for the study of priming.

Second, they can help us discriminate between different theories of

the control of mimicry and the priming of automatic behavior.

Finally, they lead to several new predictions and future directions.

Methodological Implications
Our findings that prosocial primes do not always enhance

mimicry have important methodological implications for future

priming research on mimicry. Previous studies only control the

prosociality of the scrambled sentences (e.g. contains prosocial or

antisocial words), but did not control other factors of the sentences

such as first and third person pronoun (e.g. ‘‘he’’, ‘‘they’’, ‘‘I’’,

‘‘we’’) [10–13]. In the current study, our results revealed that self-

unrelated primes lead to contrasting effects whereas self-related

primes lead to assimilative effects (Figure 3 and 5). This suggests

that mimicry is not only sensitive to the pro/antisocial words in the

priming sentences, but also the self-relatedness of the primed

content. Future studies using tasks like the scrambled sentences

task to provide conceptual priming must thus consider the whole

meaning of each sentence, not just the presence of key pro/

antisocial words. It is possible that failure to control for the self-

relatedness of primes could account for at least some of the mixed

results and failure-to-replicate in the priming literature [43].

Our paper also validates a non-verbal priming task (i.e.

experiment 3, cartoon movie priming) and shows that this task

Figure 5. Results in Experiment 3. (A) Mean reaction time in
milliseconds (ms) for participants in each of two perspective-taking
groups (3rd person and 1st person), each of two priming groups
(prosocial and antisocial), and each of three congruency conditions
(congruent, incongruent and baseline trials). Italic numbers indicate
standard deviation (B) Mean CE for participants in each of two
perspective-taking groups and each of two priming groups. Asterisks
represent the statistically significant difference between two bars.
Vertical bars indicate standard error.
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0060249.g005

Social Priming of Mimicry and Self-Relatedness

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 8 April 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 4 | e60249

influences behavior in just the same way as a more traditional

scrambled sentences task. In this task, participants viewed video

clips showing pro/anti-social behavior [42] and then wrote down a

description of what they saw from a particular viewpoint. This is

potentially useful when studying populations where language

ability is more limited, such as children [18] or those with autism

[13]. Finally, we show that it is possible to obtain robust priming

effects using within-subjects design. Although we found relatively

small congruency effects compared to previous studies[11–13],

these priming effects were reliably replicated across three studies.

This opens the way to study the neural mechanisms of social

priming using functional MRI.

Theories of prime-to-behaviour effects
The automatic mimicry of another person’s action can be

considered a special class of perception-action mapping [44].

Numerous studies over the last decade have examined how

different priming contexts have subtle effects on behavior. The

dominant explanation of these priming effects is based on the idea

of goal-activation [16] which claims that a given prime directly

activates a goal, which then automatically leads to pursuit of that

goal. Applying this to the case of mimicry and social primes, it is

proposed that when participants are exposed to words related to

the concept of affiliation, they activate an affiliation goal and then

show more affiliative behavior including more mimicry [9,15].

However, this goal-activation theory cannot easily account for

the interaction between the prosocial nature of the prime and the

self-relatedness of the prime, which we demonstrate in three

studies here. There must be an additional self-related processing

step in between the perception of a prime and its impact on

behavior. This idea of indirect prime-to-behavior relationship is

consistent with the active-self model [23], which proposes that

prime-behavior effects are mediated by the concept of the self.

This model can account for some prime-incongruent behavior in

priming literature where priming with an abstract concept (e.g.

‘‘professor’’) lead to an assimilative behavior (e.g. higher intelli-

gence performance) while priming with a concrete exemplar (e.g.

‘‘Einstein’’) leads to a contrasting behavior (e.g. lower intelligence

performance) [20].

The active-self theory can also account for assimilative and

contrasting priming effects in our data. There are four different

conditions which we must consider. First, we suggest that when

participants read or imagine a prosocial scenario from a first-

person point of view, they assimilative this prosocial attitude into

their sense of self and show more mimicry in the subsequent

mimicry task. As previous studies using abstract primes always

report prime-congruent effects on mimicry (i.e. ‘prosocial prime

leads to more mimicry’, [9–11], we suggest that this first-person

perspective could be the default perspective for abstract stimuli.

Second, we suggest that when participants read or imagine an

antisocial scenario from a first-person point of view, the imposed

anti-social self conflicts with the participant’s default concept of

themselves as a prosocial person. This means they reject the feeling

of being antisocial and do not change their behavior. Thus,

mimicry levels following first-person antisocial priming are similar

to non-social priming (Figure 3B). It is worth noting that in

Leighton’s study, antisocial abstract priming lead to less mimicry

than neutral priming, whereas in our study, antisocial first-person

priming did not decrease mimicry below neutral priming (see

Figure 3B). It is possible that the very concrete first-person

antisocial primes used in our study lead to strong conflict with the

default prosocial self-concept which causes the primes not to be

assimilated [45]. In contrast, when participants are exposed to

Leighton’s abstract antisocial primes, there is less conflict between

their naturally prosocial self and the primed antisocial concept,

leading to stronger assimilation of the prime and less mimicry.

Third, we consider the case where participants read or imagine

an antisocial scenario from a third-person point of view and then

show increased mimicry behavior (experiment 1–3 here). There

are two possible explanations. First, exposure to third party

conflict might motivate participant to prepare to mend the

situation and increase social harmony [46–49], and the participant

would then show increased mimicry [18]. This is a complex but

still primarily goal-motivational account of the results. Alterna-

tively, exposure to third party conflict might lead the participant to

engage an implicit self-comparison process (similar to the ‘Einstein’

example) and to feel ‘I am not nasty like that’ [50]. This process

would prime participants with a prosocial self-concept (e.g. ‘I

would not do that antisocial behavior to others, I am a prosocial

guy’) and then lead them showing more mimicry. This is a self-

based account of the results. Present data do not entirely

distinguish these, but we suggest the active-self account is more

parsimonious and more general because it can explain both the

present data and previous results [20].

Finally, when participants read or imagine a prosocial scenario

from a third-person point of view, they do not need to heal the

social situation, nor do they feel the behavior they view is unlike

themselves (note that no self-comparison process would be

activated here because those prosocial behavior in the primes

could be very common in participants’ own behavioral repertoire).

Therefore, their motivation to mimic and sense of self remain

unchanged, and levels of mimicry remain the same as baseline

(experiment 1 and 2).

Overall, our data demonstrate that the self-relatedness of a

prime is critical in determining how that prime influences

behavior. We suggest that the active-self model provides a possible

account for this result, and that the influence of primes on

behavior cannot be as simple as directly activating a single goal

that matches the social valence of the primed concepts. Further

study will be needed to determine exactly what additional self-

related processes are engaged when primes influence mimicry

behavior.

Future research implications
It is interesting to discuss the relationship between the social

priming effects on mimicry and those social/non-social priming

effects on executive functions [51,52]. Although attention is an

important factor in the stimulus-response compatibility paradigm

(i.e. the finger tapping task), it is very unlikely that the social

priming effect on mimicry results from attentional processes (see

detailed discussion in [11]). Similarly, although the successful

performance of the finger tapping task requires good inhibition in

incongruent trials, strong evidence suggests that the effect we

found in present studies is different from the priming effects on

cognitive control. Brass et al. [53,54] conducted two studies where

they functionally and anatomically dissociate the inhibition of

mimicry from cognitive control processes (e.g. Stroop task, go-no

go task). Their recent study further suggests that social processes

for self-other distinction plays a fundamental role in the inhibition

of mimicry [7]. Consistent with that, our findings suggest that the

social priming of mimicry is more likely based on specific social

processes for the ‘self’ rather than domain-general executive

functions.

Our conclusions that social priming of mimicry is mediated by

active self-concept are also consistent with recent social priming

studies on adolescent and autistic populations. Cook & Bird

[12,13] found adults with autism and young adolescents show less

mimicry after prosocial priming than typical adults do. Both

Social Priming of Mimicry and Self-Relatedness

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 9 April 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 4 | e60249

adolescents and individuals with autism are considered to have a

less mature ‘self’ system which provides self-concept, self-under-

standing, self-other distinction and self-comparison than typical

adults [55,56]. Thus, it is possible that the reduced of social

priming of mimicry in these populations results from weakness of

the active-self. Future research need to verify this.

It is also interesting to consider the possible neural mechanism

for the social priming effects on mimicry. Past research suggests

that medial prefrontal cortex (mPFC) is an important brain region

for the social control of mimicry [3]. Social stimuli such as eye

gaze modulate mimicry by influencing the neural activity in mPFC

[57]. mPFC is also strongly involved in self-related tasks [58]. For

example, implicit self-other evaluation and comparison strongly

engage mPFC [59,60]. Moreover, mPFC has been linked to one’s

prosociality. Activity in mPFC was found to be correlated with

daily prosocial behavior [61] and more activities in mPFC

predicted more subsequent prosocial behavior [62]. Interestingly,

a recent neuroimaging study suggests that mPFC is also the neural

substrate for social priming effects on behavior. Bengtsson et al.,

[36] showed that mPFC is actively engaged when self-esteem

primes modulate one’s cognitive monitoring ability. Given the fact

that mPFC involves in all four processes of social priming, control

of mimicry, prosociality and self-relatedness, it appears likely that

processing of the prosociality and self-relatedness of a prime takes

place in mPFC and the neural activity of mPFC determines the

pro/antisocial priming effects on mimicry. Future research could

investigate this.

Limitations
There are several limitations in the present studies that need

future research to further investigate. First of all, we only primed

the participant to be the victim, rather than the protagonist in the

first-person antisocial prime. It would be interesting to examine

how people mimic when they are primed to be the victims of an

antisocial event. Second, across three studies, pro/antisocial

primes always increased mimicry relative to non-social primes,

and did not ever decrease mimicry below that elicited by non-

social primes. It could be interesting to investigate what (if any)

social primes can make participants mimic less than non-social

situations. Recent studies suggest social group membership as a

strong modulator of mimicry where priming social in-groups

increases mimicry while priming social out-groups decreases

mimicry [63]. As we did not distinguish the ethnicity of our

participants in three studies, it will be interesting to see whether

Caucasian/African-originated participants have different mimicry

patterns or whether the hand stimuli when changed into a black

colored skin would elicit different mimicry responses.

Conclusions
Overall, our series of three studies demonstrate that priming can

influence mimicry responses in controlled lab situations, but that

the direction of the effects obtained depends critically on the self-

relatedness of the primes. We suggest these results are compatible

with an active-self model of prime-to-behaviour effects, and that

further study of the role of the self in priming would be valuable.

Supporting Information

Text S1 Scrambled sentences in Experiment 1.

(DOC)

Text S2 Scrambled sentences in Experiment 2.

(DOC)

Author Contributions

Conceived and designed the experiments: YW AH. Performed the

experiments: YW. Analyzed the data: YW. Contributed reagents/

materials/analysis tools: YW AH. Wrote the paper: YW AH.

References

1. Chartrand TL, Bargh JA (1999) The chameleon effect: the perception-behavior

link and social interaction. Journal of personality and social psychology 76: 893–

910.

2. Lakin JL, Jefferis VE, Cheng CM, Chartrand TL (2003) The chameleon effect as

social glue: Evidence for the evolutionary significance of nonconscious mimicry.
Journal of Nonverbal Behavior 27: 145–162. doi:10.1023/A:1025389814290.

3. Wang Y, Hamilton AF de C (2012) Social top-down response modulation

(STORM): a model of the control of mimicry in social interaction. Frontiers in

human neuroscience 6: 153. doi:10.3389/fnhum.2012.00153.

4. Chartrand TL, Lakin JL (2012) The Antecedents and Consequences of Human

Behavioral Mimicry. Annual Review of Psychology 64: 18.1–18.24.
doi:10.1146/annurev-psych-113011-143754.

5. Chartrand TL, Van Baaren R (2009) Human Mimicry. Advances in
Experimental Social Psychology 41: 219–274.

6. Van Baaren R, Janssen L, Chartrand TL, Dijksterhuis A (2009) Where is the
love? The social aspects of mimicry. Philosophical transactions of the Royal

Society of London Series B, Biological sciences 364: 2381–2389. doi:10.1098/
rstb.2009.0057.

7. Brass M, Ruby P, Spengler S (2009) Inhibition of imitative behaviour and social
cognition. Philosophical transactions of the Royal Society of London Series B,

Biological sciences 364: 2359–2367. doi:10.1098/rstb.2009.0066.

8. Spengler S, Brass M, Kühn S, Schütz-Bosbach S (2010) Minimizing motor

mimicry by myself: self-focus enhances online action-control mechanisms during
motor contagion. Consciousness and cognition 19: 98–106.

9. Lakin JL, Chartrand TL (2003) Using nonconscious behavioral mimicry to
create affiliation and rapport. Psychological science 14: 334–339.

10. Van Baaren RB, Maddux WW, Chartrand TL, De Bouter C, Van Knippenberg
A (2003) It takes two to mimic: Behavioral consequences of self-construals.

Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 84: 1093–1102.

11. Leighton J, Bird G, Orsini C, Heyes C (2010) Social attitudes modulate

automatic imitation. Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 46: 905–910.

12. Cook J, Bird G (2011) Social attitudes differentially modulate imitation in

adolescents and adults. Experimental brain research 211: 601–612.

13. Cook JL, Bird G (2012) Atypical social modulation of imitation in autism

spectrum conditions. Journal of autism and developmental disorders 42: 1045–

1051.

14. Chartrand TL, Jefferis VE (2003) Consequences of automatic goal pursuit and

the case of nonconscious mimicry. In: Forgas J., William K., von Hippel W,

editors. Social Judgments: Implicit and Explicit Processes.New York: Cambridge
University Press. pp. 290–305.

15. Dijksterhuis A, Chartrand TL, Aarts H (2007) Effects of Priming and Perception
on Social Behavior and Goal Pursuit. In: Bargh JA, editor. Frontiers of Social

Psychology.New York, NY, , US: Psychology Press. pp. 51–131.

16. Bargh JA, Gollwitzer PM, Lee-Chai A, Barndollar K, Trötschel R (2001) The
automated will: nonconscious activation and pursuit of behavioral goals. Journal

of personality and social psychology 81: 1014–1027.

17. Lakin JL, Chartrand TL, Arkin RM (2008) I am too just like you: nonconscious

mimicry as an automatic behavioral response to social exclusion. Psychological

science 19: 816–822.

18. Over H, Carpenter M (2009) Priming third-party ostracism increases affiliative

imitation in children. Developmental science 12: F1–8.

19. Bargh J a, Chen M, Burrows L (1996) Automaticity of social behavior: direct

effects of trait construct and stereotype-activation on action. Journal of

personality and social psychology 71: 230–244.

20. Dijksterhuis A, Spears R, Postmes T, Stapel D, Koomen W, et al. (1998) Seeing

one thing and doing another: Contrast effects in automatic behavior. Journal of
Personality and Social Psychology 75: 862–871. doi:10.1037/0022-

3514.75.4.862.

21. Dijksterhuis A, Spears R, Lépinasse V (2001) Reflecting and Deflecting
Stereotypes: Assimilation and Contrast in Impression Formation and Automatic

Behavior. Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 37: 286–299.

22. Wheeler SC, Jarvis WBG, Petty RE (2001) Think Unto Others: The Self-

Destructive Impact of Negative Racial Stereotypes. Journal of Experimental

Social Psychology 37: 173–180.

23. Wheeler SC, Demarree KG, Petty RE (2007) Understanding the role of the self

in prime-to-behavior effects: the Active-Self account. Personality and social
psychology review 11: 234–261.

24. LeBoeuf RA, Estes Z (2004) ‘‘Fortunately, I’m no Einstein’’: Comparison

Relevance as a Determinant of Behavioral Assimilation and Contrast. Social
Cognition 22: 607–636. doi:10.1521/soco.22.6.607.54817.

25. Schubert TW, Häfner M (2003) Contrast from social stereotypes in automatic
behavior. Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 39: 577–584.

Social Priming of Mimicry and Self-Relatedness

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 10 April 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 4 | e60249

26. Aarts H, Dijksterhuis A (2002) Category activation effects in judgment and

behaviour: The moderating role of perceived comparability. British Journal of

Social Psychology 41: 123–138.

27. DeMarree KG, Loersch C (2009) Who am I and who are you? Priming and the

influence of self versus other focused attention. Journal of Experimental Social

Psychology 45: 440–443.

28. Heyes C (2011) Automatic imitation. Psychological Bulletin 137: 463–483.

doi:10.1037/a0022288.

29. Obhi SS, Hogeveen J, Pascual-Leone A (2011) Resonating with others: the

effects of self-construal type on motor cortical output. The Journal of

Neuroscience 31: 14531–14535.

30. Brass M, Bekkering H, Wohlschläger a, Prinz W (2000) Compatibility between

observed and executed finger movements: comparing symbolic, spatial, and

imitative cues. Brain and cognition 44: 124–143.

31. Brass M, Bekkering H, Prinz W (2001) Movement observation affects movement

execution in a simple response task. Acta Psychologica 106: 3–22.

32. Bertenthal BI, Longo MR, Kosobud A (2006) Imitative response tendencies

following observation of intransitive actions. Journal of experimental psychology

Human perception and performance 32: 210–225.

33. Srull TK, Wyer RS (1979) The role of category accessibility in the interpretation

of information about persons: Some determinants and implications. Journal of

Personality and Social Psychology 37: 1660–1672. doi:10.1037/0022-

3514.37.10.1660.

34. Brass M, Zysset S, Von Cramon DY (2001) The inhibition of imitative response

tendencies. NeuroImage 14: 1416–1423.

35. Wang Y, Newport R, Hamilton AFDC (2011) Eye contact enhances mimicry of

intransitive hand movements. Biology letters 7: 7–10.

36. Bengtsson SL, Dolan RJ, Passingham RE (2011) Priming for self-esteem

influences the monitoring of one’s own performance. Social cognitive and

affective neuroscience 6: 417–425.

37. Marx DM, Stapel DA (2006) It depends on your perspective: The role of self-

relevance in stereotype-based underperformance. Journal of Experimental Social

Psychology 42: 768–775.

38. Galinsky AD, Wang CS, Ku G (2008) Perspective-takers behave more

stereotypically. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 95: 404–419.

doi:10.1037/0022-3514.95.2.404.

39. Smeesters D, Yzerbyt VY, Corneille O, Warlop L (2009) When do primes

prime? The moderating role of the self-concept in individuals’ susceptibility to

priming effects on social behavior. Journal of Experimental Social Psychology

45: 211–216.

40. Smeesters D, Wheeler SC, Kay AC (2009) The role of interpersonal perceptions

in the prime-to-behavior pathway. Journal of personality and social psychology

96: 395–414.

41. Gallagher HL, Happé F, Brunswick N, Fletcher PC, Frith U, et al. (2000)

Reading the mind in cartoons and stories: an fMRI study of ‘‘theory of mind’’ in

verbal and nonverbal tasks. Neuropsychologia 38: 11–21.

42. Hamlin JK, Wynn K, Bloom P (2007) Social evaluation by preverbal infants.

Nature 450: 557–559.

43. Doyen S, Klein O, Pichon C-L, Cleeremans A (2012) Behavioral priming: it’s all

in the mind, but whose mind? PloS one 7: e29081.

44. Bargh JA, Chartrand TL (1999) The unbearable automaticity of being.

American Psychologist 54: 462–479. doi:10.1037/0003-066X.54.7.462.
45. Dijksterhuis A, Van Knippenberg A (2000) Behavioral indecision: Effects of self-

focus on automatic behavior. Social Cognition 18: 55–74. doi:10.1521/

soco.2000.18.1.55.
46. Boehm C (2000) Conflict and the evolution of social control. Journal of

Consciousness Studies 7: 79–101.
47. Fujisawa KK, Kutsukake N, Hasegawa T (2006) Peacemaking and consolation

in Japanese preschoolers witnessing peer aggression. Journal of comparative

psychology 120: 48–57.
48. Fujisawa KK, Kutsukake N, Hasegawa T (2005) Reconciliation pattern after

aggression among Japanese preschool children. Aggressive Behavior 31: 138–
152.

49. Cesario J, Plaks JE, Higgins ET (2006) Automatic social behavior as motivated
preparation to interact. Journal of personality and social psychology 90: 893–

910.

50. Mussweiler T (2003) Comparison processes in social judgment: mechanisms and
consequences. Psychological review 110: 472–489.

51. Prabhakaran R, Gray JR (2012) The pervasive nature of unconscious social
information processing in executive control. Frontiers in human neuroscience 6:

105.

52. McBride J, Boy F, Husain M, Sumner P (2012) Automatic motor activation in
the executive control of action. Frontiers in human neuroscience 6: 82.

53. Brass M, Derrfuss J, Matthes-von Cramon G, Von Cramon DY (2003) Imitative
response tendencies in patients with frontal brain lesions. Neuropsychology 17:

265–271.
54. Brass M, Derrfuss J, Von Cramon DY (2005) The inhibition of imitative and

overlearned responses: a functional double dissociation. Neuropsychologia 43:

89–98.
55. Sebastian C, Burnett S, Blakemore S-J (2008) Development of the self-concept

during adolescence. Trends in cognitive sciences 12: 441–446.
56. Lombardo M V, Chakrabarti B, Bullmore ET, Sadek SA, Pasco G, et al. (2010)

Atypical neural self-representation in autism. Brain 133: 611–624.

57. Wang Y, Ramsey R, De C Hamilton AF (2011) The control of mimicry by eye
contact is mediated by medial prefrontal cortex. The Journal of neuroscience 31:

12001–12010.
58. Amodio DM, Frith CD (2006) Meeting of minds: the medial frontal cortex and

social cognition. Nature reviews Neuroscience 7: 268–277.
59. Moran JM, Heatherton TF, Kelley WM (2009) Modulation of cortical midline

structures by implicit and explicit self-relevance evaluation. Social neuroscience

4: 197–211.
60. Rameson LT, Satpute AB, Lieberman MD (2010) The neural correlates of

implicit and explicit self-relevant processing. NeuroImage 50: 701–708.
61. Rameson LT, Morelli SA, Lieberman MD (2012) The neural correlates of

empathy: experience, automaticity, and prosocial behavior. Journal of cognitive

neuroscience 24: 235–245.
62. Masten CL, Morelli SA, Eisenberger NI (2011) An fMRI investigation of

empathy for ‘‘social pain’’ and subsequent prosocial behavior. NeuroImage 55:
381–388.

63. Bourgeois P, Hess U (2008) The impact of social context on mimicry. Biological
psychology 77: 343–352.

Social Priming of Mimicry and Self-Relatedness

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 11 April 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 4 | e60249

Copyright of PLoS ONE is the property of Public Library of Science and its content may not be copied or

emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder’s express written permission.

However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use.

Preschool Children Fail Primate Prosocial Game Because
of Attentional Task Demands
Judith Maria Burkart*, Katja Rueth

Anthropological Institute and Museum, University of Zurich, Zurich, Switzerland

Abstract

Various nonhuman primate species have been tested with prosocial games (i.e. derivates from dictator games) in order to
better understand the evolutionary origin of proactive prosociality in humans. Results of these efforts are mixed, and it is
difficult to disentangle true species differences from methodological artifacts. We tested 2- to 5-year-old children with a
costly and a cost-free version of a prosocial game that differ with regard to the payoff distribution and are widely used with
nonhuman primates. Simultaneously, we assessed the subjects’ level of Theory of Mind understanding. Prosocial behavior
was demonstrated with the prosocial game, and did not increase with more advanced Theory of Mind understanding.
However, prosocial behavior could only be detected with the costly version of the game, whereas the children failed the
cost-free version that is most commonly used with nonhuman primates. A detailed comparison of the children’s behavior in
the two versions of the game indicates that the failure was due to higher attentional demands of the cost-free version,
rather than to a lack of prosociality per se. Our results thus show (i) that subtle differences in prosociality tasks can
substantially bias the outcome and thus prevent meaningful species comparisons, and (ii) that like in nonhuman primates,
prosocial behavior in human children does not require advanced Theory of Mind understanding in the present context.
However, both developmental and comparative psychology accumulate increasing evidence for the multidimensionality of
prosocial behaviors, suggesting that different forms of prosociality are also regulated differentially. For future efforts to
understand the evolutionary origin of prosociality it is thus crucial to take this heterogeneity into account.

Citation: Burkart JM, Rueth K (2013) Preschool Children Fail Primate Prosocial Game Because of Attentional Task Demands. PLoS ONE 8(7): e68440. doi:10.1371/
journal.pone.0068440

Editor: Roscoe Stanyon, University of Florence, Italy

Received March 14, 2013; Accepted May 30, 2013; Published July 3, 2013

Copyright: � 2013 Burkart, Rueth. This is an open-access article distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License, which permits
unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original author and source are credited.

Funding: The authors have no support or funding to report.

Competing Interests: The authors have declared that no competing interests exist.

* E-mail: Judith.Burkart@aim.uzh.ch

Introduction

Humans stand out among primates with regard to their

prosocial behavior, and recent years have seen major efforts to

better understand the evolutionary origin of proactive prosociality

through comparative assessment of that trait across species.

Proactive prosociality (i.e., the economists’ other-regarding pref-

erences [1]) refers to intrinsically motivated prosocial behaviors

that occur spontaneously and are not solicited by the recipients

through direct requests or signaling of need. It has been

documented in several primate species, based on experiments

derived from the economic games typically played with human

subjects. Interestingly, the primate species that are most closely

related to humans are not the ones which score highest in such

games (reviewed in [2,3,4]) which suggests that phylogenetic

proximity to humans is not an important explanatory variable for

variation in primate proactive prosociality. Rather, convergent

selection pressures must be at work, such as the impact of extensive

allomaternal care [5].

However, valid inferences about the evolutionary origin of any

trait, including proactive prosociality, that are based on the

comparative approach critically require accurate measurement of

the trait across species. The use of identical paradigms and

procedures is an important first step in doing so. If such paradigms

reveal similar prosocial responses in different species, including

humans, it then becomes informative to have a close look at the

psychological regulation, for instance with regard to the motiva-

tions underlying the prosocial behavior or the necessity of Theory

of Mind understanding. Unfortunately, it is currently difficult to

disentangle true species differences in prosociality from method-

ological artifacts, because different versions of the predominant

paradigm to assess proactive prosociality, also referred to as

prosocial games [6], have been used for different species. Here, we

investigate how young human children perform in two commonly

used versions of the prosocial game when tested under conditions

identical to nonhuman primates (i.e. non-verbally, without

instructions, same procedures), and compare the psychological

regulation involved in their responses to other primate species that

behave prosocially in such games.

In humans, proactive prosociality is mostly assessed with

dictator games, i.e. anonymous one-shot interactions in which a

player receives an amount of money and has the opportunity to

share any portion of it with a recipient. Players often choose non-

zero contributions for the recipient, and thus show proactive

prosociality (e.g. [7]). Anonymous one-shot interactions are

thought to remove the possibility that players decide to give some

of the money to the recipient based on motives other than

proactive prosociality. Anonymity ensures that players are not

responding to solicitation by the recipient (signs or signals of need,

or even harrassement) and thus show reactive prosociality. The

experiments are one-shot, so players will not expect the recipient

to reciprocate the favor in the future.

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 1 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e68440

Nonhuman primate adaptations of the dictator game, the

prosocial games, typically give subjects the choice between

different payoff distributions (e.g. one piece of food for ego and

one for the partner [1,1] vs. one piece for ego and none for the

partner [1,0], Table 1). Importantly, the choices of the subject are

then compared to its choices in a control condition when the

partner is absent, to control for a simple preference for choosing a

larger amount of food (i.e. [1,1]) even if in the end, they only get

part of it. A prosocial effect is detected if subjects choose the

prosocial option (in this case, [1,1]) more often when a partner is

present than when it is absent. The distributions are typically

offered physically and the subjects can chose by instrumentally

pulling a tray within reach, but token-exchange versions have been

successfully implemented too [8,9,10].

Since it is not possible to test nonhuman primates in anonymous

one-shot interactions, further analyses have been added to

distinguish between proactive and reactive prosocial responses.

To qualify as proactive, prosocial responses must not be prompted

by recipients and thus also (even though not exclusively) occur in

the absence of any solicitation and signaling of need, such as

begging or reaching attempts [11]. The possibility for reciproca-

tion is removed by testing dyads in only one direction and by

observing the participants’ behavior immediately after the

experiment. In both human and nonhuman studies, it remains

difficult to fully exclude this possibility since in humans, the subject

may have a hardwired disposition to always expect repeated

interactions [12] or in nonhuman primates, reciprocation may go

unnoticed because it occurs after post-experimental observations.

However, at least the latter scenario is rather unlikely in

nonhumans because delayed reciprocation is supposed to be

cognitively demanding [13,14]. Indeed, it has been shown that in

tamarins, prosocial behavior emerges independently of reciprocity

[15], and explicitly offering the possibility to reciprocate does

usually not lead to systematically more prosocial choices in

chimpanzees [16,17,18] and also not in children younger than 4.5

years [6].

The first aim of this study was to assess the validity of different

versions of prosocial games by presenting them to young human

children at an age when a broad range of prosocial behaviors,

including proactive prosociality, is already established (reviewed in

[19,20,21]). Nonhuman primates have been tested with cost-free

and costly versions of the game, most commonly instantiated with

the payoff distributions [1,0/1,1] or [0,0/0,1], or variations of

them that include more vs less preferred foods (Table 1). Crucially,

in [1,0/1,1] or cost-free settings, the donor always receives a

reward but can opt, as a no-cost side effect, to also provide a

reward to the recipient. In contrast, in [0,0/0,1] or costly versions,

the donor never receives anything for itself, but can provide food

at some small cost, e.g. by pulling a tray representing the [0,1]

reward distribution within the recipient’s reach. It has been argued

that motivationally, the costly choice should be more demanding,

as it requires a higher degree of prosociality. Cognitively, however,

the cost-free option should be more demanding because the

subject has to focus attention on more than one piece of food

simultaneously [11], which may potentially lead to false negative

results.

If subjects pass the costly version, but fail the cost-free one, they

are prosocial but are confused by some aspect of the second

version (e.g. the presence of multiple pieces of food). If they pass

the cost-free, but fail the costly test, they are prosocial, but only if it

has no costs. Thus, if payoff distributions don’t matter, as implicitly

assumed by current comparative approaches, the children should

show correlated performance in both tasks, provided they have a

prosocial tendency. If the children show a stronger prosocial effect

in the costly version, this would reflect their young age (possibly

compromising attentional demands) and the strong prosocial

tendencies of children in general.

Whenever the children choose the prosocial option more often

when a partner is present in either version, the psychological

regulation of this behavior can also be addressed. Following the

logic applied in nonhuman primate studies, assessing the role of

solicitation by recipients (signs and signals of need, in human

subjects including verbal requests, verbal negotiation of recipro-

cation) will help disentangle reactive from proactive forms of

prosociality.

The second aim of our study was to assess whether the

performance of human children in the prosocial game is related to

their ability to understand others’ mental states, i.e. level of explicit

Theory of Mind (ToM) understanding. Intuitively, an intricate link

between prosociality and ToM-abilities exists: our decisions

whether and how to help others often include explicit consider-

ation of their needs, desires or beliefs. Indeed, empirical data from

human children suggests that such a link may indeed exist, e.g.

between mirror self-recognition and reactive comforting behavior

[22,23,24], and between the understanding of mind and emotions

and prosociality in preschoolers, with prosociality being assessed

by teacher ratings [24,25] or verbally with regard to future-

oriented prosocial choices [26].

However, prosociality is far from being a unitary phenomenon:

different kinds of prosocial behaviors follow different developmen-

Table 1. Prosocial games played with nonhuman primates.

Species
Payoff-
distribution Costly?

Prosocial
effect?

Chimpanzee 1,0/1,1 no no1

Chimpanzee 1,(1)/1,1
a

no no
2

Chimpanzee 0,(1)/0,1
a

no no
2

Chimpanzee 1,0+0,1b yes no3

Common marmoset 0,0/0,1 yes yes
4

Capuchin monkey 1,1/1,1
c

no yes
5,d

Capuchin monkey 1,1/1,1 c no yes5,d

Capuchin monkey 1,1/1,1
c

no yes/no
6,e

Capuchin monkey 1,1/1,1
c
no yes/no
6,e

Cottontop tamarin 1,0/1,1 no no7

Cottontop tamarin 0,1/0,0 yes no
7

Cottontop tamarin 1,(3)/1,3
a

no no
8

Cottontop tamarin 0,(3)/0,3a yes no8

Long-tailed macaque 1,(1)/1,1
a

no yes/no
9,f

Studies differ with regard to payoff distribution, and whether help is costly.
Included are studies only in which subjects have to choose between physically
presented payoff distributions by pulling an apparatus within reach.
Ref.:

1
Silk et al. 2005,

2
Jensen et al. 2006,

3
Vonk et al. 2008,

4
Burkart et al. 2007,

5
Lakshminarayanan and Santos 2008,

6
Takimoto et al. 2010,

7
Cronin et al. 2009,

8Stevens 2010, 9Massen et al. 2010.
a
reward written in ’’()‘‘ goes to an empty compartment and is therefore out of
reach for both subjects.
bdonor is allowed to choose both distributions during one trial.
c
1 = favored reward; 1 = less favored reward; 1 = non-favored reward.
dtested one-tailed t-test; but not statistically significant if tested two-tailed like
other studies did.
e
yes for subdominant recipient, no for dominant recipient; no for subdominant
if invisible, neg. for dominant if invisible.
f
yes for kin partner; no for non-kin partner; under both conditions prosocial
tendency declined with increasing rank number.
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0068440.t001

Preschool Children Fail Primate Prosocial Game

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 2 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e68440

tal trajectories without being correlated to each other [27,28], and

are also supported by different neural substrates [29]. Accordingly,

the role of ToM-understanding has to be addressed for each

separately. Our particular focus on proactive prosociality is based

on evidence suggesting that phylogenetically, this trait may have

arisen in humans non-cognitively. The overrepresentation of

cooperatively breeding primates among species that show proac-

tive prosociality both in prosocial games and also under

naturalistic conditions [4] suggests that in humans too, proactive

prosociality may have arisen as a side effect of cooperative

offspring care, rather than resulted from highly advanced,

uniquely human socio-cognitive abilities [30,31]. If so, many of

our unique socio-cognitive capacities can more parsimoniously be

understood as a consequence of proactive prosociality, rather than

vice versa [5,32,33].

Proactive prosocial behavior in nonhuman primates, assessed

via social games, are highly unlikely to require explicit ToM-

abilities as a prerequisite since to date, there is no evidence that

nonhuman primates fully possess this ability. However, some more

basic ToM-related abilities have been reported for some nonhu-

man primate species. Nevertheless, the distribution of prosociality

measured in prosocial games among non-human primates (see

Table 1), though confusing, does not support the idea that such

more basic abilities linked to ToM are a limiting factor: The most

reliable evidence for prosocial choices in such games come from

capuchin and callitrichid monkeys (marmosets and tamarins),

rather than from chimpanzees, who have more powerful ToM-

abilities compared to the first two species, e.g. with regard to

mirror self-recognition, which is present in chimpanzees [34] but

not in cotton-top tamarins [35], marmosets [36] or capuchin

monkeys [37], or with regard to visual perspective taking, which

shows the same pattern of positive results in chimpanzees [38], and

negative results in capuchin [39] and marmoset monkeys [40].

Thus, across nonhuman primates, there is no link between ToM-

related abilities and the outcome of prosocial games.

Given these species differences, if in human children, explicit

ToM-reasoning turns out to be a precondition for behaving

prosocially in the prosocial games, this would suggest that we

measure a trait that is only superficially similar to nonhuman

primates. Furthermore, this outcome would be consistent with the

idea that prosociality is the result of our derived socio-cognitive

abilities [30,31]. Alternatively, explicit ToM-reasoning may not be

a precondition for and not promote proactive prosocial behavior.

Together with the nonhuman primate data, this would be

consistent with the idea that proactive prosociality rather enabled

the emergence of uniquely human social cognition, both

ontogenetically and phylogenetically [5,32,41].

Methods

Subjects
46 children (23 males, 23 females) were tested in three day-care

centers located in Zurich, Switzerland. The children were between

1.5 and 5 years old (mean = 3.47, sd = 0.73). 31 dyads were

composed and tested in one direction only to exclude reciprocity

effects. The children knew each other and dyads were composed of

same-age (median age difference in dyads: 3.7 months) and same-

sex partners whenever possible. The older subject within each

dyad played the donor role [42]. We included participants as

donors from an age of 2 years, which resulted in a mean age of

donors of 3.8 years (girls, sd = 0.54, n = 13) and 3.4 years (boys,

sd = 0.57, n = 18), respectively. Thus, 70% of the donors were

between 3 and 4 years old, an age range for which we expected

high variation in ToM understanding [43]. Children who

participated both as donor and recipient, did so first as donors,

to avoid carry-over effects.

The relationship quality of the dyads was rated by nursery

teachers as neutral (21 dyads), positive (9 dyads) or negative (1

dyad). The parents filled out questionnaires that allowed us to

calculate the socio-economic status (SES) (assessed according to

[44]) and gave information about the presence of siblings and

sibling position. The experiments were approved by the Ethik-

Kommission of the Kinderspital Zürich, Unterkommission SPUK.

The parents gave written informed consent for the childrens’

participation.

Prosociality Tasks
Setup and apparatus. The experimental setup and proce-

dure were directly modeled after that used for marmoset monkeys

[11]. Two identical playpens were used as house-like compart-

ments, one for the donor and one for the recipient (Figure 1). The

compartments were separated by an opaque divider with a

window that allowed visual contact between donors and recipients.

Payoff-distributions were presented on a movable apparatus with

two stacked trays. On each tray two dishes were attached, one at

the donor- and one at the recipient side. The donor, but not the

recipient, could pull the trays within reach of both participants

because handles extended from the trays into the donor

compartment. In each trial, the donor could only pull one tray,

because pulling one tray automatically blocked the other one. A

curtain was placed in front of the playpens at a distance of circa

1.5 m and the entire apparatus could be moved forward to the

playpens and backward behind the curtain. This allowed the

experimenters to bait the apparatus out of view of the subjects

between trials. As reward we used fruits in the training phase and

sweets (Smarties) or salty snacks during the experiment, according

to individual preferences of both dyad partners.

Procedure. A trial started with an experimenter (E) saying

‘‘ta ta ta taaa’’ and opening the curtain. The apparatus was moved

towards to the compartments, which gave the donor the

opportunity to access the handles. After the participant had pulled

one handle or after a delay of 15 sec, a bell signaled the end of the

trail. The apparatus was moved back behind the curtain and the

curtain closed.

The experiment started with a warm-up phase, where

participants had the opportunity to get used to the presence of

the apparatus. They were allowed to freely explore especially the

house –like compartments for 10 min and shown that they could

be separated with the help of a partition. Next, we conducted a

demonstration phase where the experimenter was in the donor

compartment, and run a trial that was presented by a second

experimenter. The demonstration consisted in the experimenter

pulling a reward on its own side within reach and taking this

reward. The demonstration phase was necessary because pilot

trials revealed that unlike the marmoset monkeys, many children

were reluctant to enter the playpens. Following the demonstration,

we tested whether the child liked the reward. A plate with rewards

was offered and the experimenter asked if she liked the reward and

wanted a piece. The test was passed if the child took a reward, and

followed by the training phase after which the children had to be

able to handle the apparatus, and understand the consequences of

pulling the trays. During the training phase, the partition between

the compartments was removed and the subjects thus had access

to both compartments. For the costly payoff distribution (see

below) a reward was placed on one of the four dishes and by

pulling the correct handle the children could make the reward

available for themselves, either in the donor compartment, or in

the recipient compartment. If participants did not pull the correct

Preschool Children Fail Primate Prosocial Game

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 3 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e68440

tray in each position at least twice in a row in 20 trials they were

excluded from the study or were assigned to be recipients only.

Once they had passed this criterion, the partition was placed

between the compartments. Now the subject could experience that

she could no longer reach the reward if it was placed on the

recipient side of the trays and that even if pulling the tray with the

reward, they would not be able to obtain it. The procedure was

identical for the cost-free payoff distribution, with the exception

that during the training phase, the participants had to learn to

maximize their reward. Thus, three pieces of food were placed,

two on either board on the donor side and one on one board on

the recipient side and the participants had to pull the [1,1]

distribution rather than the [1,0].

During the experiment, the compartments were separated by

the partition. In the experimental condition, a partner was present

in the recipient compartment, but in the control condition, the

recipient compartment was empty. Each test and control condition

had 9 trials. Half of the dyads were first tested with the test

condition, the other half with the control condition. All training

and experimental phases were videotaped. Importantly, nursery

teachers were absent during testing, to minimize the possibility

that the children behaved prosocially to fulfill the expectations of

these authority figures.

Payoff distributions. Each dyad was tested with two

versions of the game. In the costly version, a reward was placed

in one of the four dishes, alternately on the upper or lower tray.

The reward was on the recipient side during the test trials, and the

subjects could choose to pull the board with the reward within

reach of the recipient, pull the empty board, or not pull at all.

During the first, the fifth, and the ninth trial, the reward was

placed on the donor side (as motivation trials), to keep the donors

engaged in the task as had previously been done for nonhuman

primates. In the cost-free version, the subjects could choose

between a tray baited with a reward for themselves but nothing for

the recipient, or one containing both a reward for themselves and

the recipient. Half of the dyads were first tested with the first

distribution, the other half with the other one.

Data coding. We recorded the response of the donor (pulling

the baited tray, the empty tray, or not pulling) during the

experiments and verified the coding twice afterwards by analyzing

the video tapes. Additionally, we coded the latency until the donor

child had pulled, and whether or not he had looked at the

partner’s plate before pulling. Furthermore, we coded the

recipient’s behavioral (looking at the reward, reaching for the

reward) and verbal (requests for help) signs and signals of interest

in the reward before pulling by the donor. We only recorded those

signs and signals that could be perceived by the donor. These

signals were coded per trial as present or absent. After the

recipient had taken the reward provided by the donor, we also

coded reactions by donors: the donor could not attend to the

recipient taking the reward, neutrally observe the recipient, or

observe her taking the reward with a positive emotional reaction

Figure 1. Experimental setting. Two playpens serve as compartment for the donor (D) and the recipient child (R). The handles (H) of the
apparatus can be manipulated from the donor compartment only, and allow to pull the boards (U: upper board; L: lower board) with the dishes
within reach. Between trials, the curtains are drawn.
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0068440.g001

Preschool Children Fail Primate Prosocial Game

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 4 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e68440

(smiling, verbal comments). Negative emotional reactions did not

occur. 10% of all trials were coded by a second rater. Reliability of

the response of the donor was complete (Cohen’s Kappa = 1).

Latencies where highly correlated between the raters with 93% of

the variation explained (n = 53, p,0.001), and the reliability for

the behavioral coding (signaling by the recipient and reactions by

the donors) was Cohne’s Kappa = 0.8.

Theory of Mind Tasks
Materials and procedure. We used a test battery of four

socio-cognitive tasks originally developed by Wellman and Lu [45]

to assess the extent to which the children were aware of the fact

that desires, beliefs or knowledge of others can differ from their

own. A German version of these tests had been developed and

validated by Hofer and Aschersleben [46]. The tests consist of

illustrated short stories and could be ranked by increasing difficulty

on a Guttman scale (diverse desire, diverse belief, knowledge

access, content false belief) by Wellman and Lu [2004] and Hofer

and Aschersleben [2007]. A Guttman scale assumes that if one

passes a particular task, she also passes the lower ranked tasks.

Four tasks were presented in a single session for each child, in a

separate room at the day-care centers. Each of the tasks was coded

as passed or failed.

To validate that the performance in the ToM tasks can indeed

be ranked with increasing difficulty in our sample, we first used

Rasch analyses to validate the order of item difficulty calculated

with the Guttman Scale, as previously done by Wellman and Liu

[45] and Kristen et al. [47]. The dichotomous Rasch Model is a

probabilistic approach which estimates a person’s ability and item

difficulty. If a person’s ability is equal to item difficulty, then the

person passes this task with a probability of 0.5. If a person’s ability

exceeds the item difficulty, she passes this task with a probability

higher than 0.5, relative to the difference in levels and vice versa.

We calculated parameter estimates and fit statistics using the open-

source statistical language R following the protocol described by

Yuelin [48].

Results

Prosocial Behavior in the Costly v s. Cost-free Version
In the costly version, the children pulled the prosocial tray more

often in the test condition when a partner was present than in the

control condition when the recipient compartment was empty, by

a margin of 30.1% (SEM = 6.5; one sample t-test on the difference

of prosocial pulling in test minus control conditions,

t(30) = 4.57 p,0.001). In contrast, no prosocial effect, i.e. no

significant difference between test and control condition (mean

difference: 6.77%, SEM = 4.78) was found in the cost-free version

(t(30) = 1.4, p = 0.167; Figure 2). The prosocial effect was bigger in

the costly version (t(30) = 2.75, p = 0.01), and due to more

prosocial choices in the costly version in the partner present

condition t(30) = 3.07 p = 0.004, whereas prosocial choices in the

partner absent condition (control) did not differ between the

versions (t(30) = 20.31 p = 0.76).

Prosocial behavior (difference of pulling the prosocial tray in test

minus control condition) did not increase with the children’s age in

both versions of the game (costly: Spearman’s Rho = 0.088, n = 31,

p = 0.97; cost-free: Spearman’s Rho = 0.198, n = 31, p = 0.282).

Furthermore, we analyzed the influence of additional factors on

prosocial behavior with Generalized Linear Models (GLM), with

the presence of a prosocial effect as response variable (i.e. subjects

pulling significantly more often in test compared to control

condition vs. subjects who did not discriminate), separately for

each version of the game. We found no sex differences (costly

version: z = 21.30, p = 0.19; cost-free version: z = 20.07,

p = 0.94), no effect of whether dyads were composed of same- or

different sex partners (costly version: z = 0.13, p = 0.90; cost-free

version: z = 0.82, p = 0.41), relationship quality of the dyad as

rated by the nursery teachers (costly version: z = 0.93, p = 0.35;

cost-free version: z = 20.36, p = 0.72), whether the donor child

had siblings (costly version: z = 0.01, p = 1.00; cost-free version:

z = 0.01, p = 1.00), older siblings (costly version: z = 20.01,

p = 0.99; cost-free version: z = 0.01, p = 1.00) or the sibling

position (costly version: z = 20.01, p = 1.00; cost-free version:

z = 0.01, p = 1.00). We found no effect of socio-economic status

(costly version: z = 0.55, p = 0.59; cost-free version: z = 1.11,

p = 0.27) and no order effects, neither for whether the experiment

started with test or control session (costly version: z = 21.04,

p = 0.30; cost-free version: z = 20.69, p = 0.49) nor for version

order (costly version: z = 0.27, p = 0.79; cost-free version:

z = 21.31, p = 0.19).

Attentional, not Motivational Processes Prevent Prosocial
Responding in the Cost-free Version
A possible explanation for the contrasting results in the two

versions of the game may be that in the cost-free version, the

donors simply did not pay attention to the recipient child’s payoff

because they were focusing on their own reward. If such

attentional limitations are responsible for the lack of prosocial

responding in this version, we should see that (i) donors pay less

attention to the recipients’ reward dish in the cost-free version

compared to the costly version, and thus (ii) pull more impulsively,

i.e. with shorter latencies. Furthermore, they should (iii) show less

interest in the consequences of their prosocial pulling because this

would often result as an unintended, and thus unnoticed,

byproduct of getting their own reward.

First, as shown in Figure 3, donors looked more often at the

partner’s plate before pulling when there was no reward on their

own side of the apparatus [0,1] than when there was a reward on

both sides [1,1], or during motivation trials when there was only a

reward on the donor’s side [1,0] (chi
2
test, x

2
= 285.62, df = 2,

p,0.001). Indeed, the presence or absence of a reward on the

donor’s side was a good predictor of looking at the recipient’s

reward position (Generalized Linear Mixed Model, random effect:

child, fixed effect: reward, Estimate = 26.127, Std. Error = 0.824,

z value = 27.433, p,0.001).

Figure 2. Prosocial effect. Donors’ (n = 31) pulling of the prosocial
distribution ([0,1], or [1,1], respectively) in the presence (test condition,
dark bar) or absence (control condition, light bar) of a recipient, for both
versions of the dictator game. A prosocial effect was present only in the
costly version of the game. ***: p,0.001.
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0068440.g002

Preschool Children Fail Primate Prosocial Game

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 5 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e68440

Second, as shown in Figure 4, the donors pulled with longer

latencies when only a reward for the recipient was present (test

trials of costly version) than when a reward was also present for the

subject herself (test trials of cost-free version, permutation test on

an one sample t-test statistic, p,0.001, n = 26) or exclusively for

the subject herself (motivational trials, permutation test on a one

sample t-test statistic, p,0.001, n = 26). Furthermore, the latencies

of the test trials of the cost-free version and the motivational trials

of the costly version did not differ significantly (permutation test on

a one sample t-test statistic, p = 0.184, n = 26). This suggests that

whenever the donors could get a reward for themselves, they

pulled with short latencies, regardless of what this meant for the

potential recipient.

Third, as shown in Figure 5, donors also varied in their

reactions when the recipient took a reward that had been pulled by

the donor for her (146 cases in the costly version, 108 cases in the

cost-free version). In the cost-free compared to the costly version,

the donors were more likely not to attend at all to the recipient

taking the reward (43.5% versus 13% of all cases, respectively),

and less likely to attend neutrally without observable emotional

reaction (43% versus 58%) and also less likely to attend and show a

positive emotional reaction (13% versus 29%; chi
2
test, x

2
= 31.85,

df = 2, p-value ,0.001).

Signs of Interest and Requests for Help
Signs of interest (looking at and/or reaching for the reward) and

requests for help were not necessary to release prosocial choices

since in the costly version, 70.5% of all prosocial pulls occurred in

the absence of such signs and signals of need. Indeed, both signs of

interest (looking at the reward, reaching for the reward) and

requests for help did not increase prosocial pulls (Figure 6;

Generalized Linear Model on trial level with prosocial pulling as

response variables, and looking at reward (z = 21.085, p = 0.278),

reaching for the reward (z = 20.888, p = 0.375) and request for

help (z = 0.571, p = 0.568) as fixed factors). When we only examine

the first test trial per dyad, when any previous influence by

recipients can be excluded, 50% of all prosocial pulls occurred in

the absence of any sign or signal of need. In these first trials,

reaching (z = 21.278, p = 0.2) or requests for help 0.791, p = 0.43)

had no effect on prosocial pulling, but looking at the reward

(z = 22.139, p = 0.032) had a negative effect. In the cost-free

version, where we found no overall prosocial effect, the pattern of

results was the same.

Theory of Mind and Prosociality
30 of the 31 donor children attended the four socio-cognitive

tests (the youngest donor child [2.14 years] did not want to attend).

Each child passed at least one test. The maximum score reached

was 4 (cumulative numbers of tests passed). The average child

passed 2.17 tests (n = 24). 8 tests had to be excluded for 6 children,

Figure 3. Attention of donors to the partner’s plate before
pulling. Percentage of trials when donors looked at the partner’s plate
in test sessions of the costly version (reward on partner’s side), the cost-
free version (reward on both sides) and during motivation trials (one
reward on donor’s side). The presence of a reward for the partner in
addition to a reward to the subject herself does not increase attention
to the partner’s plate.
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0068440.g003

Figure 4. Pulling latencies. Latency to pull the prosocial tray during
test trials in the costly version, the cost-free version, and to pull the
board baited for oneself during motivation trials. The presence of a
reward for the partner in addition to a reward to the subject herself
does not increase the latency to pull.
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0068440.g004

Figure 5. Reactions of the donor children to recipients taking
the provisioned reward. The children could either not attend to the
recipient at all, attend with a neutral emotional expression, or attend
with a positive emotional expression.
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0068440.g005

Preschool Children Fail Primate Prosocial Game

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 6 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e68440

because of experimenter’s mistakes or inconclusive answers by the

participants.

We validated the ToM measure in two ways. First, we used the

Rasch model to validate whether the results from our sample fit a

Guttman scale. While the first task, the diverse desire task, was

passed by most of the participants (26/30), the number of children

who passed the following tasks decreased continuously, with only 2

children (out of 30) passing the final one. The fit statistics (Table 2)

indicate that our data correspond to the pattern described in the

much larger samples from Wellman and Liu [45] and Kristen

et al. [47]. Thus, as in the previous studies, performance in the

ToM tasks could be meaningfully ranked according to their

difficulty.

Second, ToM scores showed a weak sex difference with girls

outperforming boys (Mann-Whitney U = 37.5, p = 0.047), as

expected. However, due to the narrow range of ages tested,

ToM scores were not positively linked with age to a significant

degree (all subjects: Rho = 0.335, p = 0.109, n = 24; girls:

Rho = 0.311, p = 0.352, n = 11; boys: Rho = 0.251, p = 0.408,

n = 13).

Having validated our ToM scores, we asked whether they were

correlated with prosocial behavior, i.e. the difference of pulls in

test vs control sessions. This was not the case, either in the costly

(Rho = 20.028, p = 0.895, n = 24) or the cost-free version

(Rho = 20.101, p = 0.64, p = 24). Since mentalizing ability has

been hypothesized to impact reactive, rather than proactive

prosociality, we also analyzed proactive and reactive prosocial

behavior separately. For each donor, we calculated an index of

proactive prosociality, i.e. the proportion of all trials without

signaling in which donors pulled the prosocial option (where

signaled trials were those in which reaching for reward, looking at

reward, and requesting help by recipients occurred; signaling was

only included if it occurred prior to pulling and was perceived by

the donors). Likewise, we calculated the proportion of all trials

with signaling in which donors pulled the prosocial distribution.

Since part of these pulls may have been motivated by proactive

prosociality despite the presence of signaling, we calculated the

difference between the two proportions as index for reactive

prosociality (i.e. proportion of prosocial pulling in signaled trials

minus the proportion of pulling in non-signaled trials). Again,

ToM scores were not related to either proactive or reactive

prosociality, in the costly (proactive: Rho = -.242, p = 0.254,

n = 24; reactive: Rho = 0.021, p = 0.936, n = 18) as well as in the

cost-free version (proactive: Rho = 0.305, p = 0.148, n = 24;

reactive: Rho = 20.146, p = 0.650, n = 12; the higher sample sizes

for proactive pulling are due to the fact that the majority of all food

deliveries (70.5%) occurred in the absence of signaling).

Discussion

We assessed the validity of different versions of prosocial games

commonly used with nonhuman primates by presenting them to 2-

Figure 6. Effect of signs and signals of need on prosocial pulling. Percentage of trials in which prosocial pulling occurred following different
kinds of signaling (dark bars) or without signaling (light bars). Figures inside the bars represent numbers of trials. For instance, prosocial pulling
occurred in 85% of 121 trials in which no signaling of any kind occurred (total). Looking = recipient looks at reward; reaching = recipient tries to access
reward with arm, request = recipient verbally asks for reward.
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0068440.g006

Table 2. Rasch analyses.

Items Children who passed (%) Item difficulty Standardized infit Standardized outfit

Content false belief 0.04 3.95 1.26 3.43

Knowledge access 0.42 0.02 1.02 1.18

Diverse belief 0.63 21.27 0.71 0.56

Diverse desire 0.83 22.71 1.00 0.78

The higher the ‘‘item difficulty’’ – score, the higher the difficulty level of the item. Fit statistics (standardized infit and outfit values) have an expected value of 0. Values
.2.0 indicate a misfit [77].
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0068440.t002

Preschool Children Fail Primate Prosocial Game

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 7 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e68440

to 5-year old human children, i.e. at an age when prosocial

behavior can be expected. We used an identical experimental

setup and procedure as previously used to assess proactive

prosociality in marmoset monkeys [11] and implemented two

versions of the game, a costly and a cost-free one. Like the

monkeys, the children were tested with group members as

partners, had to pass pretest criteria to make sure that they had

understood the consequences of their choices, and were not

verbally instructed to behave prosocially. At the same time, we

assessed their level of ToM development with a set of standardized

tests [45,47].

Some Payoff Distributions Prevent Prosocial Responses
Due to Attentional Demands
As expected based on their age (reviewed in [19,20,21]), the

children behaved prosocially in the costly version of the game,

where the donor children could either provide a reward to the

partner or not, without ever obtaining anything for themselves.

However, prosocial behavior could not be demonstrated statisti-

cally with the cost-free payoff-distribution, despite a bigger sample

size than in typical nonhuman primate studies that mostly include

less than 20 subjects, often less than 10 (for references, see Table 1).

The absence of prosocial behavior in the cost-free version is

likely to be a false negative result, because the children did show

prosocial behavior in the motivationally even more demanding

costly version, where they incur a small cost (pulling the tray),

whereas in the cost-free version, they can provide food as a side

effect of pulling the tray for themselves. Detailed behavioral

analyses suggest that the false negatives occurred because the

donor children were oblivious to the donor dish as soon as their

own dish was baited: In the cognitively demanding but cost-free

version of the game, they were distracted by the opportunity to get

their own payoff, and did not pay attention to the recipients’

payoff. Indeed, their overall behavior in the cost-free version of the

game was the same as when they could pull food only for

themselves (i.e. in motivation trials) with regard to their attentional

focus and response latencies. When they nevertheless did provide a

reward in the cognitively demanding version, they likely more

often did so inadvertently, since they paid less attention to the

recipient actually taking the reward, and less often showed a

positive emotional reaction to the partner taking the reward

compared to the costly version.

The absence of prosocial behavior in the costly version of the

game is consistent with a recent result by House et al. [49], who

tested 3- to 8-year-old human children in a costly version of a

prosocial game previously used with chimpanzees [31]. The

children did not choose the prosocial option more often when a

partner was present (although a prosocial effect became apparent

after statistically controlling for trials that were accompanied by

laughter).

Our finding that payoff distributions critically matter whether a

prosocial effect can be found is highly relevant, because being able

to reliably assess prosociality across species is the crucial

precondition for properly identifying the socio-ecological factors

that favor the evolution of this trait. The costly payoff-distribution

or variations of it based on more or less desirable food, is popular

with researchers because it demands only minimal levels of

prosociality. Our results, however, suggest that it is exactly this

version of the game that this prone to false-negative results, and

this may arguably be the case in other species too. Indeed, for

some species, negative evidence for prosociality in instrumental

pulling taks contrasts with positive evidence from token exchange

paradigms [8,9], and one explanation may be that the latter

removes the attentional demands that may prevent prosocial

responding in instrumental pulling tasks.

The fact that seemingly trivial differences in experimental

design can have far-reaching consequences for our conclusions is

not unique to prosociality tasks but has been noticed repeatedly in

comparative cognition research in a broad range of domains, as

reflected in controversies surrounding visual-perspective taking

[50,51,52], object-choice tasks (reviewed in [53]) or causality

understanding [54,55,56,57]. In each of these cases, similar to the

present study, small methodological differences demonstrably lead

to fundamentally different conclusions about the presence or

absence of an ability; thus, whenever such methodological

modifications are confounded with species identity, it becomes

impossible to draw conclusions about species differences regarding

a specific ability.

Contemporary comparative cognition research thus faces a

serious challenge, and the recent recommendation by Silk &

House [3] that we urgently need standardized tasks that allow for

species comparisons, including humans, not only applies to

prosociality tasks. However, the situation may be particularly

precarious in tasks that not only involve an experimenter, the

subject, and the stimulus material, but in addition also a social

conspecific partner, as is the case in prosociality tasks. In such

situations, on top of having to manipulate a cognitively demanding

apparatus, subjects are involved in two social relationships

simultaneously, the one with the experimenter (who tries to be

as neutral as possible, but nevertheless will be perceived as a

intentional agent, even by small-brained monkeys [58,59]) and the

one with the conspecific social partner. That the simultaneous

integration of all these requirements is cognitively demanding is

evident from capuchin monkeys, who failed to show targeted

helping even though they separately understood the instrumental

task and showed a motivation to help in cognitively more simple

situations [60].

Ideally, such a standardized approach to assess proactive

prosociality relies on very simple, intuitive setup and not only

shows whether it is present in a species (for instance, in very

specific dyads under highly artificial dyadic experimental situa-

tions), but should also provide information about its distribution

across age and sex-classes and, most importantly, how prevalent it

is under naturalistic situations in the whole-group context (cf. [4]).

The recently developed group-service paradigm aims at providing

exactly this kind of information, by applying a single experimental

setup and procedure to assess proactive prosociality to a wide

range of species, testing them in their natural groups and over

extended periods of time [61].

Proactive and Reactive Prosociality
Prosocial responses did not require explicit requests or even the

perception of signs or signals of interest in the food by recipients.

At least a part of the prosocial responses thus reflect proactive,

rather than reactive prosociality [4], as was the case in common

marmosets in the same test paradigm.

Signaling of need by recipients decreased, rather than increased,

prosocial choices. This is surprising in the context of the child

literature, where reactive sharing has been described to be more

robust and emerge earlier (e.g. [62]). It is less surprising, however,

in the context of the nonhuman primate literature. Signals of

interest such as begging and reaching attempts either had no, or

even a negative, effect in prosocial games in chimpanzees [8,63],

tamarins [64], and marmosets [11], and arguably only a positive

one in capuchin monkeys ([65] decline of prosociality when no

visual contact was possible]). This mostly negative influence of

signaling need may indicate species differences, but also, and more

Preschool Children Fail Primate Prosocial Game

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 8 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e68440

likely so, that behavioral categories used in these studies lump

together functionally highly heterogeneous signals. For instance,

unsuccessful reaching attempts may be understood as sign of need

and thus elicit prosocial behavior, but may also be perceived as

independent solution of the task. Thus, subjects observing the

recipient reaching for the food may automatically process this

event as ‘‘the recipient is accessing the food independently,

removing the need for my assistance.’’ This may also explain the

contradictory finding that in another recent study, signaling

promoted prosocial responses in human children [62], whereas in

the present study, it decreased them. Alternatively, this discrep-

ancy may reflect a more strategic decision to respond to an adult

authority figure rather than to a peer (see also below).

Disentangling different signs and signals, and whether and how

they are perceived by partners, is an important next step for future

research and possibly also key to understanding the distribution of

prosocial behaviors across nonhuman primates.

Under natural conditions, proactive prosociality of simple acts

such as food offering is more prevalent in monkeys, in particular in

cooperatively breeding ones with shared infant care, whereas

reactive prosociality is more prevalent in great apes, in particular

in the form of targeted, instrumental helping (reviewed in [3,4]).

An important factor contributing to this dissociation is likely to be

a cognitive one: targeted, instrumental helping arguably both

requires an understanding of the partner’s goals and a situational,

causal understanding of which behavioral means are most likely to

achieve these goals (see also [66,67]) as well as the ability to

integrate such representations in a helping motivation [60]. On

the other hand, proactive prosociality, typically measured in food

offering contexts may well rely on much simpler cognitive

regulation. Under naturalistic conditions, all individuals always

need food, and a representation of conspecifics as food-motivated

entities may thus be developmentally canalized. Thus, the current

pattern suggests that nonhuman primates vary with regard to an

intrinsic, proactive helping motivation expressed in cognitively

simple contexts, and also that some species such as chimpanzees

may be able to behave prosocially in more complex situations due

to more powerful cognitive capacities. Notably, these are not

necessarily the same species that show particularly high proactive

prosociality in the first place, but rather behave prosocially when

prompted to do so, by begging or even harassment. At the same

time, more general cognitive constraints may prevent other species

from showing instrumental helping despite high proactive helping

motivation.

Prosociality and Theory of Mind
Higher levels of explicit ToM understanding did not increase

prosocial behavior in the prosocial game, in both versions of the

task. Likewise, ToM did not bias children towards more proactive

(i.e. the probability to pull prosocially in the absence of signs and

signals of need by recipients) or reactive prosocial tendencies (i.e.

the probability to pull prosocially as a response to signaling minus

proactive prosociality).

One might argue that our sample was too small to conclude that

no relationship exists between the level of ToM development and

performance in prosocial games. However, the ToM measure

employed was valid. In the present study, we were able to replicate

the findings by Kristen et al. [47] and Wellman and Liu [45]

regarding the increasing difficulty of the tasks. Further consistent

with other studies (e.g. [68,69]), girls slightly outperformed boys.

However, we found no significant age effect, presumably due to

the narrow age range of the participants which was chosen to

minimize the confounding effect of age when investigating the

relationship between ToM and prosociality. Because the measure

was valid, the absence of any correlation indicates that this

relationship, if present, could not have been strong.

Therefore, our results instead indicate that ToM reasoning is

not the key factor in eliciting proactive prosociality in young

children. This finding is consistent with the result by Sally and Hill

[70] who show that prosocial choices in the ultimatum game but

not in the dictator game are influenced by false belief

understanding. Dictator games are used by economists to assess

other-regarding preferences or proactive prosociality, whereas the

veto option in ultimatum games adds a strategic dimension [7].

Together, these results are in favor of scenarios that imply a very

early, rather indiscriminate onset of (proactive) prosociality during

human ontogeny, which is later constrained by strategic decisions

based on ToM reasoning (see also [6,71]). Thus, importantly,

ToM reasoning may not only drive decisions towards more

prosocial behavior, but also result in decisions when to inhibit a

prosocial impulse.

One possible caveat is that this conclusion is based on the use of

an explicit ToM measure. ToM development can be traced back

to much younger ages [72], and it can therefore be argued that it is

such earlier levels that are relevant for the emergence of

prosociality. Indeed, mirror self-recognition, for instance, as an

early manifestation of self-other differentiation has been linked to

the emergence of comforting behavior [22,23,73], i.e. one form of

reactive prosocial behavior. However, since comforting, helping,

and sharing are dissociated developmentally [27,28] and neuro-

biologically [29], these must be rather separate phenomena and

thus likely be regulated differently. Our experiment arguably

assesses sharing behavior (but note that subjects don’t give up any

of their own food), and the lack of a relationship is thus not

inconsistent with the above mentioned studies.

Whether earlier and more implicit forms of ToM play a role in

prosocial game performance cannot be answered based on the

present study. However, comparative data suggests it does not,

since those early ToM-related abilities evidenced by some species

do not predict prosocial game performance across nonhuman

primates. Some of these abilities are likely to be present in most

nonhuman primates (reviewed in [58,59,74]) whereas others, such

as mirror self-recognition, can only be found in great apes, but not

monkeys [34], including callitrichids [36]. Nevertheless, callitri-

chids, but not chimpanzees show proactive prosociality in

prosocial games. The socio-cognitive abilities that enable mirror

self-recognition may thus be relevant for the observed distribution

of reactive, instrumental helping across primates, as argued above,

but not involved in the regulation of proactive prosociality.

Conclusion
This study leads to two important conclusions. First, seemingly

trivial differences in experimental design of prosociality studies can

have far-reaching consequences on our conclusions, including

differences regarding payoff distributions as in the present study,

but also the nature of the task (instrumental pulling vs. token

exchanges), the amount of time provided to respond, or competing

demands of attention and affect [75]. Any further advancement in

understanding the origin of prosocial behavior critically requires

unified approaches that yield comparable data, both at the

construct level and at the level of experimental design and

procedure.

Second, an emerging pattern of findings in both developmental

and comparative psychology is that prosociality is a multidimen-

sional phenomenon. In developmental psychology, different forms

prosocial behaviors have been shown to follow separate, non-

correlated developmental trajectories [27,28], to be supported by

different neural substrates [29], and to be regulated differently,

Preschool Children Fail Primate Prosocial Game

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 9 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e68440

with ToM, for instance, playing a role in some forms but not in

others ([22,23,24,26,70,76]; this study). Comparative data now

likewise points to the necessity to distinguish different kinds of

prosocial behavior, a key distinction being that between proactive

and reactive forms of prosociality, as reflected in the role of

understanding signs and signals of need for eliciting prosocial

behaviors, and the dissociation between performance in prosocial

games and targeted helping across species [3,4]. Merging the

findings from the two fields seems an obvious next step, and it is a

valid working hypothesis to assume that the distinct forms of

human prosocial behaviors may have different phylogenetic

histories. Once the evolutionary roots have been identified, we

can more easily examine the adaptive function of each kind of

prosocial motivation.

Acknowledgments

We would like to thank all the children for participating in this study, the

parents for their consent and filling out the questionnaires, and the staff of

the daycare centers for their support and the possibility to carry out the

experiments in their facilities. We are grateful for the highly valuable

comments and inputs by Trix Cacchione, Sonja Koski, Carel van Schaik,

Ellen Meulman and Joe Henrich on earlier versions of the manuscript.

Author Contributions

Conceived and designed the experiments: JB. Performed the experiments:

JB KR. Analyzed the data: JB KR. Wrote the paper: JB KR.

References

1. Fehr E, Fischbacher U (2003) The nature of human altruism. Nature 423: 785–

791.

2. Cronin KA (2012) Prosocial behaviour in animals: the influence of social

relationships, communication and rewards. Animal Behaviour.

3. Silk JB, House BR (2011) Evolutionary foundations of human prosocial

sentiments. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 108: 10910–

10917.

4. Jaeggi A, Burkart JM, van Schaik CP (2010) On the psychology of cooperation

in humans and other primates: The natural history of food sharing and

experimental evidence of prosociality. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal

Society B: Biological Sciences 12: 2723–2735.

5. Burkart JM, Hrdy SB, van Schaik CP (2009) Cooperative breeding and human

cognitive evolution. Evolutionary Anthropology 18: 175–186.

6. House BR, Henrich J, Sarnecka B, Silk JB (2013) The development of

contingent reciprocity in children. Evolution and Human Behavior 34: 86–93.

7. Camerer C (2011) Behavioral game theory: Experiments in strategic interaction.

Princeton: Princeton University Press.

8. Horner V, Carter JD, Suchak M, de Waal FBM (2011) Spontaneous prosocial

choice by chimpanzees. Proceeding National Academy of Sciences USA 108:

13847–13851.

9. de Waal FBM, Leimgruber K, Greenberg AR (2008) Giving is self-rewarding for

monkeys. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (USA) 105: 13685–

13689.

10. Suchak M, de Waal FBM (2012) Monkeys benefit from reciprocity without the

cognitive burden. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 109: 15191–

15196.

11. Burkart JM, Fehr E, Efferson C, van Schaik CP (2007) Other-regarding

preferences in a non-human primate, the common marmoset (Callithrix jacchus).

Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (USA) 104: 19762–19766.

12. Trivers R (2006) Reciprocal altruism: 30 years later. In: Kappeler PM, Van

Schaik CP, editors. Cooperation in Primates and Humans: Mechanisms and

Evolution. Berlin: Springer. 67–83.

13. Stevens JR, Hauser MD (2005) Cooperative Brains: Psychological Constraints

on the Evolution of altruism. In: Dehaene S, Duhamel J-R, Rizzalotti G, Hauser

MD, editors. From Monkey Brain to Human Brain. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT

Press. 159–187.

14. Ramseyer A, Pelé M, Dufour V, Chauvin C, Thierry B (2006) Accepting loss:

the temporal limits of reciprocity in brown capuchin monkeys. Proc R Soc B

273: 179–184.

15. Cronin KA, Schroeder KKE, Snowdon CT (2010) Prosocial behaviour emerges

independent of reciprocity in cottontop tamarins. Proceedings of the Royal

Society B: Biological Sciences 277: 3845–3851.

16. Yamamoto S, Tanaka M (2009) Do chimpanzees (Pan troglodytes) spontane-

ously take turns in a reciprocal cooperation task? Journal of Comparative

Psychology; Journal of Comparative Psychology 123: 242.

17. Yamamoto S, Tanaka M (2010) The influence of kin relationship and reciprocal

context on chimpanzees’ other-regarding preferences. Animal Behaviour 79:

595–602.

18. Brosnan SF, Silk JB, Henrich J, Mareno MC, Lambeth SP, et al. (2009)

Chimpanzees (Pan troglodytes) do not develop contingent reciprocity in an

experimental task. Animal Cognition 12: 587–597.

19. Brownell CA (2013) Early Development of Prosocial Behavior: Current

Perspectives. Infancy 18: 1–9.

20. Vaish A, Warneken F (2012) Social-cognitive contributors to young children’s

empathic and prosocial behavior. Empathy: From Bench to Bedside: 131–146.

21. Hepach R, Vaish A, Tomasello M (2012) A New Look at Children’s Prosocial

Motivation. Infancy.

22. Johnson DB (1982) Altruistic behavior and the development of the self in infants.

Merrill-Palmer Quarterly-Journal of Developmental Psychology 28: 379–388.

23. Zahn-Waxler C, Radke-Yarrow M, Wagner E, Chapman M (1992) Develop-

ment of concerns for others. Developmental Psychology 28: 126–136.

24. Bischof-Köhler D (1989) Spiegelbild und Empathie – Die Anfänge der sozialen Kognition.

Bern: Hans Huber.

25. Cassidy KW, Werner RS, Rourke M, Zubernis LS (2003) The relationship

between psychological understanding and positive social behaviors. Social

Development 12: 198–221.

26. Moore C, Barresi J, Thompson C (1998) The cognitive basis of future-oriented

prosocial behavior. Social Development 7: 198–218.

27. Dunfield K, Kuhlmeier VA, O’Connell L, Kelley E (2010) Examining the

diversity of prosocial behavior: Helping, sharing, and comforting in infancy.

Infancy 16: 227–247.

28. Dunfield KA, Kuhlmeier VA (2013) Classifying prosocial behavior: Children’s

responses to instrumental need, emotional distress, and material desire. Child

Development.

29. Paulus M, Kühn-Popp N, Licata M, Sodian B, Meinhardt J (2012) Neural

correlates of prosocial behavior in infancy: Different neurophysiological

mechanisms support the emergence of helping and comforting. NeuroImage.

30. Lukas D, Clutton-Brock T (2012) Cooperative breeding and monogamy in

mammalian societies. Proceedings of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences

279: 2151–2156.

31. Silk JB, Brosnan SF, Vonk J, Henrich J, Povinelli DJ, et al. (2005) Chimpanzees

are indifferent to the welfare of unrelated group members. Nature 437: 1357–

1359.

32. Hrdy S (2009) Mothers & Others: The Evolutionary Origins of Mutual

Understanding. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

33. Burkart JM, van Schaik CP (2010) Cognitive consequences of cooperative

breeding in primates? Animal Cognition 13: 1–19.

34. Gallup GG, Anderson JR, Shillito DJ (2002) The mirror test. In: M. Beckoff CA,

G Burghardt editor. The Cognitive Animal. Cambridge: MIT Press.

35. Hauser MD, Miller CT, Liu K, Gupta R (2001) Cotton-top tamarins fail to show

mirror-guided self-exploration. American Journal of Primatology 53: 131–137.

36. Heschl A, Burkart JM (2006) A new mark test for mirror self-recognition in non-

human primates. Primates 47: 187–198.

37. Anderson J, Roeder JJ (1989) Responses of capuchin monkeys (Cebus apella) to

different conditions of mirror-image stimulation. Primates 30: 581–587.

38. Call J (2007) Social knowledge in primates. In: Dunbar RIM, Barrett L, editors.

Handbook of Evolutionary Psychology. New York: Oxford University Press. 71–

81.

39. Hare B, Addessi E, Call J, Tomasello M, Visalberghi E (2003) Do capuchin

monkeys, Cebus apella, know what conspecifics do and do not see?. Animal

Behaviour 65: 131–142.

40. Burkart JM, Heschl A (2007) Perspective taking or behaviour reading?

Understanding of visual access in common marmosets (Callithrix jacchus). Animal

Behavior 73: 457–469.

41. van Schaik CP, Burkart JM (2011) Social learning and evolution: the cultural

intelligence hypothesis. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society B:

Biological Sciences 366: 1008–1016.

42. Ashley J, Tomasello M (1998) Cooperative problem-solving and teaching in

preschoolers. Social Development 7: 143–163.

43. Wellman HM, Cross D, Watson J (2001) Meta-Analysis of Theory-of-Mind

development: The truth about false belief. Child Development 72: 655–684.

44. Largo RH, Caflisch JA, Hug F, Muggli K, Morlnar AA, et al. (2001)

Neuromotor development from 5 to 18 years. Part 1: timed performance.

Developmental Medicine & Child Neurology 43: 436–443.

45. Wellman HM, Liu D (2004) Scaling of theory-of-mind tasks. Child Development

75: 523–541.

46. Hofer T, Aschersleben G (2007) ‘‘Theory of Mind’’-Skala für 3- bis 5-jährige

Kinder. München: Max-Plank-Institut für Kognitions- und Neurowissenschaf-

ten.

47. Kristen S, Thoermer C, Hofer T, Aschersleben G, Sodian B (2006) Validation of

the “Theory of Mind” Scale. Zeitschrift Fur Entwicklungspsychologie Und

Padagogische Psychologie 38: 190–199.

Preschool Children Fail Primate Prosocial Game

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 10 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e68440

48. Yuelin L (2006) Using the open-source statistical language R to analyze the

dichotomous Rasch model. Behavior Research Methods 38: 532–541.
49. House BR, Henrich J, Brosnan SF, Silk JB (2012) The ontogeny of human

prosociality: behavioral experiments with children aged 3 to 8. Evolution and

Human Behavior.
50. Hare B, Call J, Agnetta B, Tomasello M (2000) Chimpanzees know what

conspecifics do and do not see. Animal Behaviour 59: 771–185.
51. Karin-D’Arcy RM, Povinelli DJ (2002) Do chimpanzees know what each other

see? A closer look. International Journal of Comparative Psychology 15: 853–

865.
52. Bräuer J, Call J, Tomasello M (2007) Chimpanzees really know what other can

see in a competitive situation. Animal Cognition 10: 439–448.
53. Mulcahy NJ, Hedge V (2012) Are great apes tested with an abject object-choice

task? Animal Behaviour 83: 313–321.
54. Visalberghi E, Limongelli L (1994) Lack of comprehension of cause-effect

relations in tool-using capuchin monkeys (Cebus apella). Journal of Comparative

Psychology 108: 15–22.
55. Limongelli L, Boysen ST, Visalberghi E (1995) Comprehension of cause-effect

relations in a tool-using task by chimpanzees (Pan troglodytes). J Comp Psych
109: 18–26.

56. Tebbich S, Bshary R (2004) Cognitive ablities related to tool use in the

woodpecker finch, Cactospiza pallida. Animal Behaviour 67: 689–697.
57. Mulcahy NJ, Call J (2006) How great apes perform on a modified trap-tube task.

Animal Cognition 9: 193–199.
58. Burkart J, Kupferberg A, Glasauer S, van Schaik C (2012) Even simple forms of

social learning rely on intention attribution in marmoset monkeys (Callithrix
jacchus). Journal of Comparative Psychology 126: 129.

59. Kupferberg A, Glasauer S, Burkart JM (2013) Do robots have goals? How agent

cues influence action understanding in non-human primates. Behavioural Brain
Research.

60. Skerry AE, Sheskin M, Santos LR (2011) Capuchins are not prosocial in an
instrumental helping task. Animal Cognition 14: 647–654.

61. Burkart JM, van Schaik CP (2012) Group service in macaques (Macaca fuscata),

capuchins (Cebus apella) and marmosets (Callithrix jacchus): A comparative
approach to identifying proactive prosocial motivations. Journal of Comparative

Psychology.
62. Brownell CA, Svetlova M, Nichols S (2009) To share or not to share: When do

toddlers respond to another’s needs? Infancy 14: 117–130.
63. Vonk J, Brosnan SF, Silk JB, Henrich J, Richardson AS, et al. (2008)

Chimpanzees do not take advantage of very low cost opportunities to deliver

food to unrelated group members. Animal Behaviour 75: 1757–1770.

64. Cronin KA, Schroeder KKE, Rothewell ES, Silk JB, Snowdon CT (2009)

Cooperatively breeding cottontop tamarins (Saguinus oedipus) do not donate

rewards to their long-term mates. Journal of Comparative Psychology 123: 231–

241.

65. Takimoto A, Kuroshima H, Fujita K (2009) Capuchin monkeys (Cebus apella)

are sensitive to others’ reward: an experimental analysis of food-choice for

conspecifics. Animal Cognition 13: 249–261.

66. Yamamoto S, Humle T, Tanaka M (2012) Chimpanzees’ flexible targeted

helping based on an understanding of conspecifics’ goals. Proceeding National

Academy of Sciences USA 109: 3588–3592.

67. Barnes JL, Hill T, Langer M, Martinez M, Santos LR (2008) Helping behaviour

and regard for others in capuchin monkeys (Cebus apella). Biology Letters 4:

638–640.

68. Charman T, Ruffman T, Clements W (2002) Is there a gender difference in false

belief development? Social Development 11: 1–10.

69. Walker S (2005) Gender differences in the relationship between young children’s

peer-related social competence and individual differences in theory of mind. The

Journal of Genetic Psychology 166: 297–312.

70. Sally D, Hill E (2006) The development of interpersonal strategy: Autism,

theory-of-mind, cooperation and fairness. Journal of economic psychology 27:

73–97.

71. Tomasello M (2009) Why we cooperate. Cambridge MA: MIT Press.

72. Thoermer C, Sodian B, Vuori M, Perst H (2012) Continuity from an implicit to

an explicit understanding of false belief from infancy to preschool age. British

Journal of Developmental Psychology 30: 172–187.

73. Bischof-Köhler D (1994) Selbstobjektivierung und fremdbezogene Emotionen.

Identifikation des eigenen Spiegelbildes, Empathie und prosoziales Verhalten im

2. Lebensjahr. Zeitschrift für Psychologie 202: 349–377.

74. Wellman HM, Brandone AC (2009) Early intention understandings that are

common to primates predict children’s later theory of mind. Current Opinion in

Neurobiology 19: 57–62.

75. Thompson RA, Newton EK (2013) Baby altruists? Examining the complexity of

prosocial motivation in young children. Infancy 18: 120–133.

76. Cassidy KW, Werner RS, Rourke M, Zubernis LS, Balaraman G (2003) The

relationship between psychological understanding and positive social behaviors.

Social Development 12: 198–221.

77. Wright BD, Masters GN (1982) Rating Scale Analysis; Rasch Measurement.

Chicago, IL: Mesa.

Preschool Children Fail Primate Prosocial Game

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 11 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e68440

Copyright of PLoS ONE is the property of Public Library of Science and its content may not
be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder’s
express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for
individual use.

Maturation of Cognitive Control: Delineating Response
Inhibition and Interference Suppression
Christopher R. Brydges1*, Mike Anderson1,2, Corinne L. Reid1,2, Allison M. Fox1

1 Neurocognitive Development Unit, School of Psychology, University of Western Australia, Perth, Western Australia, Australia, 2 School of Psychology, Murdoch

University, Perth, Western Australia, Australia

Abstract

Cognitive control is integral to the ability to attend to a relevant task whilst suppressing distracting information or inhibiting
prepotent responses. The current study examined the development of these two subprocesses by examining
electrophysiological indices elicited during each process. Thirteen 18 year-old adults and thirteen children aged 8–11
years (mean = 9.77 years) completed a hybrid Go/Nogo flanker task while continuous EEG data were recorded. The N2
topography for both response inhibition and interference suppression changed with increasing age. The neural activation
associated with response inhibition became increasingly frontally distributed with age, and showed decreases of both
amplitude and peak latency from childhood to adulthood, possibly due to reduced cognitive demands and myelination
respectively occurring during this period. Interestingly, a significant N2 effect was apparent in adults, but not observed in
children during trials requiring interference suppression. This could be due to more diffuse activation in children, which
would require smaller levels of activation over a larger region of the brain than is reported in adults. Overall, these results
provide evidence of distinct maturational processes occurring throughout late childhood and adolescence, highlighting the
separability of response inhibition and interference suppression.

Citation: Brydges CR, Anderson M, Reid CL, Fox AM (2013) Maturation of Cognitive Control: Delineating Response Inhibition and Interference Suppression. PLoS
ONE 8(7): e69826. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0069826

Editor: Francesco Di Russo, University of Rome, Italy

Received May 28, 2013; Accepted June 14, 2013; Published July 23, 2013

Copyright: � 2013 Brydges et al. This is an open-access article distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License, which permits
unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original author and source are credited.

Funding: Funding support was provided for by an Australian Postgraduate Award scholarship for Christopher Brydges. The child research was supported by
grants from Princess Margaret Hospital grant EP1910 and the Channel 7-Telethon Trust. The adult research was funded by the School of Psychology at the
University of Western Australia. The funders had no role in study design, data collection and analysis, decision to publish, or preparation of the manuscript.

Competing Interests: The authors have declared that no competing interests exist.

* E-mail: brydgc01@student.uwa.edu.au

Introduction

Cognitive control refers to the group of processes required to

resist interference from distracting stimuli or prepotent automatic

responses, whilst attending to task-relevant information [1,2].

These inhibitory processes are often considered to be important

components of intelligence [3–5], as well as affecting an

individual’s ability to function in everyday life [6]. In the past

10–15 years, interest in how inhibition is associated with other

executive functions (especially shifting and updating of working

memory) has been a particular area of focus [7–9]. However,

although several theorists have proposed that subprocesses of

inhibition should be considered as related yet separable, only a

minimal amount of research has examined the validity of these

claims (but see [10–12]).

The present study focuses on response inhibition (the suppres-

sion of a prepotent or automatic behavioural response) and

interference suppression (the ability to control for distracting

stimuli or information due to stimulus competition; 13). Nigg

proposed a taxonomy of inhibition, of which response inhibition

and interference suppression are two distinct yet related processes

[13]. Other prominent theories of inhibition [14–16] may use

different terminology for these constructs; however, each of these

theories converges upon the notion that inhibition refers to several

separate but interrelated processes, rather than a singular

construct.

A recent study by Brydges, Clunies-Ross et al. reported

electrophysiological evidence in support of the separability of

response inhibition and interference suppression in young adults

[10]. Participants completed a hybrid Go/Nogo flanker task whilst

having an electroencephalogram (EEG) recorded. The N2 event-

related potential (ERP), which is commonly associated with

inhibition on both Go/Nogo and flanker tasks [17–21], was

analysed between the incongruous condition (measuring interfer-

ence suppression) and the Nogo condition (measuring response

inhibition). Two major findings were reported: first, the N2 peak

associated with each process was maximal at different scalp sites,

and the peak latency differed significantly between

conditions.

Specifically, the N2 elicited in the incongruous condition was

maximal at the central midline site, and had a significantly longer

latency than the N2 elicited in the Nogo condition, which was

maximal at the frontal midline site. From this, it was suggested that

these topographical differences were due to these two processes

originating from different neural regions or that a common set of

generators differentially contribute to each process. Additionally,

the latency difference suggests that interference suppression may

require additional cognitive processing over and above that

required for successful response inhibition [16,22], providing

further evidence for the separability of the proposed subprocesses

of inhibition.

The maturation of inhibitory processes and other executive

functions is of critical importance in children, particularly in

educational settings [23]. Previous research has found marked

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 1 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e69826

improvements on behavioural measures of inhibition throughout

childhood and, in some cases, into mid-adolescence [24–26].

Huizinga et al. reported improved performance on both a stop-

signal task and a flanker task between groups of children aged 7,

11, and 15 years respectively, suggesting that there may be some

common developmental process that leads to the improvement of

both response inhibition and interference suppression.

From a neuroimaging perspective, Bunge et al. [11] examined

the maturation of these two processes by using functional magnetic

resonance imaging (fMRI) to record neural activity whilst adults

and children aged 8–12 years completed a hybrid Go/Nogo

flanker task. It was reported that children displayed activation of

posterior regions of the brain during successful response inhibition,

whereas prefrontal regions were activated in adults. During

successful interference suppression, prefrontal regions were acti-

vated for both groups; however, only the left hemisphere was

activated in children, whilst only the right hemisphere was

activated in adults. Hence, it is apparent that neural development

of cognitive control occurs at a significant rate through late

childhood and adolescence [27,28]. One possible drawback of the

task used by Bunge et al., however, is that the flanker stimuli acted

as cues to inhibit responses in the Nogo condition of their task.

That is, in the conditions that required a response, the flanker

stimuli were meant to be ignored, but participants were required

to actively attend to them in the Nogo condition. This could have

changed the manner in which participants processed the

incongruous stimuli, supported by the low error rates in this

condition.

No previous research has used ERPs to simultaneously examine

the maturation of response inhibition and interference suppres-

sion. When examining response inhibition, Johnstone et al. [29]

recorded EEG data whilst groups of children, and young and older

adults completed a Go/Nogo task, and found that N2 peak latency

significantly decreased from childhood to adulthood, perhaps due

to myelinisation occurring during this period of childhood, hence

increasing neural speed [30]. N2 peak amplitude also significantly

decreased with age, due to greater activation of regions of the

prefrontal cortex in children than in adults [31]. Additionally,

Jonkman et al. [32] reported that the medial frontal cortex (near

the anterior cingulate cortex) is activated during response

inhibition and associated with the N2 in both children and adults.

There is a scarcity of literature examining the electrophysiological

development of interference suppression through childhood;

however, Rueda et al. [33] found a significant decrease of N2

peak latency between four year-old children and adults during

completion of a child-friendly flanker task. However, the

amplitude of the N2 was very small in the group of children,

and became larger in the adult group. It was claimed that these

differences are neural evidence of the incomplete development of

interference suppression processes in children.

The aim of this study was to examine the maturation of

response inhibition and interference suppression simultaneously

from an electrophysiological perspective. It was hypothesised that

the results observed by Brydges et al. [10] would be replicated in

the adult sample. Specifically, the N2 associated with response

inhibition have a shorter latency and be more frontally distributed

than that of the N2 associated with interference suppression.

Additionally, it was hypothesised that the site of maximal

amplitude of the N2 ERP associated with response inhibition

would become increasingly frontal between childhood and

adulthood [11,28], and that the N2 amplitude and peak latency

would both significantly decrease with age [29]. Furthermore, it

was hypothesised that there would be no change in the site of

maximal amplitude of the N2 ERP associated with interference

suppression between children and adults. However, based on the

results of Rueda et al. [33] there would be a significant increase in

the amplitude of the N2, and a significant decrease of peak latency,

with age. In addition to ERP analyses, source localisation was

conducted on each group and condition, and was expected to

display further evidence of different neural generators between

conditions.

Methods

Ethics Statement
Approval for the study was provided by the Human Research

Ethics Office of The University of Western Australia (both groups)

and by the Princess Margaret Hospital Ethics Committee (child

group). All adult participants and parents/guardians of the child

participants provided written informed consent.

Participants
Twenty six participants were recruited and split into two groups

of thirteen. The group of typically developing children were aged

8–11 years (M = 9.77 years; 9 females and 4 males), and the adults

(8 females and 5 males) were all aged 18 years. Children were

recruited through Project K.I.D.S. (Kids’ Intellectual Develop-

ment Study), a research program examining the cognitive, social,

and emotional development of children run by the Neurocognitive

Development Unit of the School of Psychology of the University of

Western Australia. The young adults were first-year undergrad-

uate psychology students who participated in order to partially

fulfil course requirements. Both groups completed the task as part

of a larger test battery.

Materials
The same hybrid Go/Nogo flanker task used by Brydges et al.

[10] was used in this study. Each stimulus consisted of five fish

presented on a blue background. An arrow on the body of the fish

specified direction and the target was the central fish. Participants

were instructed to press a response button on a keyboard (red felt

patches on the ‘Z’ and ‘/’ keys) analogous to the direction of the

central fish. The task had three conditions: in the congruent

condition (.5 probability), the fish were green and all facing the

same direction. In the incongruent condition (.25 probability), the

fish were also green, however the flankers faced the opposite

direction to the central target. In the Nogo condition (.25

probability), the fish were congruent but were all red, the

participant was required to not respond. Each fish subtended.9u
horizontally and.6u vertically, with.2u separating each fish (see
Figure 1). Stimuli were presented in random order for 300 ms with

a 2,000 ms inter-stimulus interval. The task was presented to the

children as a game in which the participants had to feed the

hungry central fish. Speed and accuracy were equally emphasized.

Eight practice trials were administered to ensure the participants

understood the task requirements. A total of 176 trials were

subsequently presented in one block.

Electrophysiological Acquisition
The EEG was continuously recorded using an Easy-Cap

TM
.

Electrodes were placed at 33 sites based on Easy-Cap montage 24

(see http://www.easycap.de/easycap/e/products/products.htm

for more details). Eye movements were measured with bipolar

leads placed above and below the left eye. The EEG was amplified

with a NuAmps 40-channel amplifier, and digitized at a sampling

rate of 250 Hz. Impedances were below 5 kV prior to recording.
During recording, the ground lead was located at AFz and the

right mastoid was set as reference, and a common averaged

Maturation of Cognitive Control

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 2 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e69826

reference was calculated offline. Scan 4.3 was used to conduct the

ERP processing. Offline, the EEG recording was digitally filtered

with a 1–30 Hz zero phase shift band-pass filter (12 dB down).

The vertical ocular electrodes enabled offline blink reduction

according to the standard algorithm proposed by Semlitsch et al.

[34].

Data Analysis
Epochs encompassing an interval from 100 ms prior to the

onset of the stimulus and extending to 1000 ms post-stimulus were

extracted and baseline corrected around the pre-stimulus interval.

Epochs containing artifacts larger than 150 mV or where an
incorrect behavioural response was committed were excluded

from the ERP average. Difference waveforms were then calculated

by subtracting the individual ERP average elicited following

presentation of the congruent stimuli from the ERP average

elicited following presentation of the incongruent stimuli and the

Nogo stimuli. We calculated the interval over which the N2

inhibition effect was significant by comparing the amplitude of the

difference waveforms at each time point from 100–550 ms against

a mean value of zero. To control for the number of comparisons

conducted, we required a successive sequence of 11 statistically

significant values based on an autocorrelation of 0.9 and graphical

threshold of 0.05, as detailed by Guthrie and Buchwald [35]. In

the group of children, the incongruous N2 effect was not

significant at Fz, FCz, or Cz. In the Nogo condition, the N2

effect was significant at Cz between 388–464 ms only. In the adult

group, the incongruous waveform was significant at Fz, FCz, and

Cz, during respective latencies of 312–360, 304–380, and 296–

388 ms. These latency windows were averaged to 304–376 ms for

analyses. In the Nogo condition, the N2 waveform was significant

at Fz (128–180 ms and 224–264 ms) and FCz (136–180 ms).

However, upon examination of the difference waveforms, it was

apparent that the two early waveforms at these sites were N1

peaks, and were excluded from analyses.

Source localisation analyses were conducted on each condition

in the adult group using BESA 5.1. The same analyses were

attempted on the group of children; however, the observed results

were inadmissible. Instantaneous dipole models were computed on

grand average ERP difference waveforms of each condition within

the latency windows mentioned previously. A four-shell ellipsoidal

head model with default values of bone thickness (7.0 mm) and

conductivity (0.0042) was used for analyses. Dipole pairs were

fitted with locations and orientations constrained to be mirror-

symmetrical. Source models were computed in a 12 ms window

around the N2 difference peak latency at the site of maximal

amplitude for each of the conditions (276 ms at Fz for the Nogo –

congruous difference waveform, and 352 ms at FCz for the

incongruous – congruous difference waveform). Source models

were considered acceptable if they explained at least 95% of the

variance, and were stable across different starting points. The

reported solutions were stable across different starting positions.

A mixed design ANOVA with scalp site (Fz, FCz, Cz) as a

repeated measures factor was conducted on the mean amplitudes

extracted. Latency and amplitude of the N2 effect were quantified

for peaks within a 212–464 ms latency interval at the site of

maximal amplitude only. This window was chosen to capture the

intervals identified in difference waveform analyses for both

conditions in each age group, and to ensure the maximum point

was identified in each participant’s waveform.

Results

Behavioral Results
Descriptive statistics of behavioural results are presented in

Table 1. A 262 mixed design ANOVA with reaction time
(congruous and incongruous) as a repeated measures factor found

that performance was impaired in the incongruous condition in

comparison to the congruous condition (F(1, 24) = 57.22, p,.001,

gp
2
= .70). Additionally, performance significantly improved with

age (F(1, 24) = 28.23, p,.001, gp
2
= .54). However, the interaction

between age group and condition was not significant (F(1,

24) = 0.38, p = .54, gp
2
= .02).

ERP Results
The mean N2 amplitude of the incongruous – congruous

difference waveform of one adult participant was considered an

extreme value (greater than 3 SDs from the mean), and was

replaced with a value 3 SDs from the mean for statistical analyses.

Figure 2 shows the stimulus-locked grand averaged waveforms for

each condition between age groups, and Figure 3 shows the

difference waveforms computed by subtracting the ERPs elicited

to the congruous stimuli from each of the other two waveforms.

The amplitudes and latencies of the N2 peak identified in the

difference waveforms are summarised in Table 2.

The results of Brydges et al. [10] were generally replicated: the

negativity observed in the Nogo – congruous difference waveform

was more frontally distributed (Fz.FCz.Cz) than that observed

in the incongruous – congruous difference waveform

(FCz.Cz.Fz), as evidenced by a significant interaction between

scalp site and condition (F(2, 24) = 3.96, p = .033, gp
2
= .25).

Figure 1. The six stimuli used in the present experiment (taken from Brydges, Clunies-Ross, et al., 2012).
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0069826.g001

Table 1. Descriptive statistics of behavioural measures
between groups (means, with standard deviations in
parentheses).

Age group Congruous Incongruous Nogo

Reaction
Time % correct

Reaction
Time

%
correct

%
correct

Children 637 (184) .91 (.06) 705 (167) .79 (.05) .88 (.10)

Adults 379 (35) .97 (.04) 437 (51) .85 (.10) .98 (.03)

doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0069826.t001

Maturation of Cognitive Control

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 3 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e69826

Additionally, the peak latency of the incongruous – congruous

difference waveform was significantly longer than that of the Nogo

– congruous difference waveform (F(1, 12) = 8.24, p = .014,

gp
2
= .41).

The negativity observed in the Nogo – congruous difference

waveform did not produce a significant main effect of electrode

site (F(2, 48) = 0.47, p = .63, gp
2
= .02) or of age group (F(1,

24) = 0.18, p = .90). However, a significant interaction between site

and age group was observed (quadratic trend; F(1, 24) = 19.30,

p,.001, gp
2
= .45). Specifically, the N2 peak was centrally

distributed in children (Cz.FCz.Fz), but was frontally distribut-

ed in adults (Fz.FCz.Cz). The peak latency of the negativity

observed in the Nogo – congruous difference waveform signifi-

cantly decreased with age (F(1, 24) = 7.18, p = .013, gp
2
= .23).

Additionally, peak amplitude also decreased with age, although

this effect was marginally significant (F(1, 24) = 3.93, p = .059,

gp
2
= .14). As no significant N2 effect was observed for the

incongruous – congruous difference ERP in the group of children,

no analyses were conducted.

Source Localization Results
Source localization analyses were conducted on grand average

ERP difference waveforms of each condition in the adult group

(see Figure 4). In the Nogo condition, two symmetrical dipoles at

Talairach coordinates (11.7, 27.1, 26.8) and (211.7, 27.1, 26.8)

accounted for 95.47% of the variance, mapping onto a more

anterior region of the cingulate gyrus in each hemisphere [36,37].

In the incongruous condition, two symmetrical dipoles at (8.1,

210.5, 28.8) and (28.1, 210.5, 28.8) accounted for 95.17% of the

Figure 2. Stimulus-locked grand average ERP waveforms in response to congruous (blue), incongruous (green), and Nogo (red)
stimuli with the amplitude (mV) as the y-axis and time (ms) as the x-axis. Time 0 represents stimulus onset.
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0069826.g002

Maturation of Cognitive Control

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 4 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e69826

variance in the ERP, mapping onto the cingulate gyrus in each

hemisphere.

Discussion

The results of this study showed that the N2 ERP changed in

latency and topography between childhood and adulthood, and

that the N2 effect was different following presentation of

incongruous and Nogo stimuli in the two groups. The differences

of amplitude, latency, and topography between conditions during

development (as evidenced by the significant main effects and

interactions of ANOVAs), as well as differences observed in the

source localisation analyses conducted on the adult group, provide

evidence of the separability of response inhibition and interference

suppression [10,13].

In the Nogo condition, the N2 effect was maximal at central

scalp sites in children, but was maximal at frontal sites in adults.

Additionally, source localisation found that the dipoles observed in

adults are in frontal regions (see Figure 4). Previous research has

found that neural activation associated with response inhibition

becomes increasingly frontal with age through childhood devel-

opment [11]. Frontal regions, including the anterior cingulate

cortex, are commonly associated with behavioural performance on

Go/Nogo tasks in adults [38,39], and are one of the last regions of

the brain to complete development [28,40]. It appears that in the

early stages of development of this region, children are more

reliant upon more posterior regions of the brain in order to

successfully inhibit responses [11,41]. Additionally, a significant

main effect of latency was observed. This may be explained by the

large-scale myelination occurring throughout childhood and

Figure 3. Grand-averaged difference waveforms computed as the incongruous – congruous waveform (green) and Nogo –
congruous (green) with the amplitude (mV) as the y-axis and time (ms) as the x-axis. Time 0 represents stimulus onset.
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0069826.g003

Maturation of Cognitive Control

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 5 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e69826

adolescence [30,42], which is commonly thought to decrease ERP

latency [43,44]. A marginally significant decrease in amplitude

was also observed between the two age groups, providing some

support for previous research by Johnstone et al. [29], who found

that N2 amplitude decreased with age, thought to be caused by

fewer cognitive demands and increasingly efficient recruitment of

relevant brain regions as individuals develop through childhood

[31].

In the incongruous condition, there was no significant N2 effect

in the group of children, whereas the effect was maximal at fronto-

central sites in adults. Although an increase in the size of the effect

from childhood to adulthood was hypothesised, it is somewhat

surprising that no N2 effect at all was observed in children. It is

possible that this lack of significant neural activation in children is

caused by differences in the propagation of neural activation

between childhood and adulthood. Previous neuroimaging

research has reported that children display more diffuse activation

of frontal regions, whereas the neural activation observed in adults

is more focalised due to a gradual decrease in the number of

synapses through childhood and adolescence, and an increase in

the strength of connections between the remaining synapses

during this time [45,46]. Due to these weaker, more inefficient

connections between synapses in children, it may be plausible that

children ‘spread the load’ across a larger region of the brain, which

results in less dense neural activation.

The results of this study could contribute to several avenues of

future research, particularly in clinical settings. For example,

examining the effects of traumatic brain injury (TBI) on response

inhibition and interference suppression would provide further

insight into the underlying neural generators of the two processes.

Whilst some previous research [47,48] has examined the effects of

TBI on various cognitive tasks, no study has attempted to

determine whether a differential deficit exists between these

inhibitory subprocesses. Considering that previous research has

highlighted clear differences in white matter integrity between TBI

patients and control groups [48], it would be of particular interest

to examine the latency of the N2 ERP, as an increased latency in

TBI patients would provide a new perspective on the link between

brain and behaviour in atypical groups.

Alternatively, examining differences between typically and

atypically developing groups of children may be of benefit.

Children born preterm, for instance, have been shown to be at

increased risk of various cognitive deficits, including executive

dysfunction [49], in addition to neurophysiological differences

such as decreased brain volume [50,51]. Research into differences

between typically and atypically developing children can poten-

tially provide further evidence of the separability of inhibitory

subprocesses from a new perspective, strengthening theories of

inhibition and its development [13].

In conclusion, the present study has added evidence from an

electrophysiological perspective to the predominantly behavioural-

based knowledge of the development of inhibitory processes

[12,13,24]. Results from ERP analyses have reported topograph-

ical changes in both response inhibition and interference

suppression, and latency and amplitude reductions in response

inhibition. Additionally, source localisation analysis has provided

evidence that the neural generators of response inhibition and

interference suppression are distinct. Consistent with previous

research, the current study suggests that the cingulate cortex is

involved in, and highly important to, response inhibition and

interference suppression respectively [52–56]. Furthermore, there

Table 2. N2 amplitude and latency summary statistics
between groups (means, with standard deviations in
parentheses).

Group Condition Site N2 MA N2 PkA N2 PkL

Children IS – CS Fz – – –

F

Cz – – –

Cz – – –

NG – CS Fz 0.00 (1.16)

FCz 20.93 (1.78)

Cz 21.86 (1.93) 24.08 (1.79) 352.00 (64.06)

Adults IS – CS Fz 21.04 (1.19)

FCz 22.37 (2.11) 23.35 (2.00) 350.46 (36.90)

Cz 21.80 (0.94)

NG – CS Fz 21.70 (1.80) 22.66 (1.86) 275.69 (80.22)

FCz 20.90 (2.07)

Cz 20.41 (1.43)

doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0069826.t002

Figure 4. Source localisation analyses for (a) Nogo – congruous and (b) incongruous – congruous N2 effects in the adult group.
doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0069826.g004

Maturation of Cognitive Control

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 6 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e69826

are marked differences between age groups within each condition,

providing neurophysiological evidence of different developmental

trajectories of the two constructs. Theories of the development of

inhibition and other higher-order cognitive functions (such as

working memory) would greatly benefit from the integration of

neuroscience with behavioural evidence.

Acknowledgments

This research was presented in an earlier form at the forty-first annual

meeting of the International Neuropsychological Society. Our gratitude

extends to Kaitrin McNamara and Catherine Campbell for their help with

coordination of Project K.I.D.S., and to Karen Clunies-Ross, An Nguyen,

David Thompson and Jesse Bruggler for assistance with adult data

collection.

Author Contributions

Conceived and designed the experiments: CB AF. Performed the

experiments: CB AF. Analyzed the data: CB AF. Wrote the paper: CB.

Reviewed final manuscript: MA CR AF. Trained and supervised ERP

testers: AF. Conceived and designed the methodology for mass testing of

children in a holiday programme: MA CR. Supervised the research group:

MA. Trained and supervised testers in child assessment and recruited

participants: CR.

References

1. Michel F, Anderson M (2009) Using the antisaccade task to investigate the

relationship between the development of inhibition and the development of

intelligence. Developmental Science 12: 272–288.

2. Ridderinkhof KR, van den Wildenberg WPM, Segalowitz SJ, Carter CS (2004)

Neurocognitive mechanisms of cognitive control: The role of prefrontal cortex in

action selection, response inhibition, performance monitoring, and reward-based

learning. Brain and Cognition 56: 129–140.

3. Dempster FN (1991) Inhibitory processes: A neglected dimension of intelligence.

Intelligence 15: 157–173.

4. Obonsawin MC, Crawford JR, Page J, Chalmers P, Cochrane R, et al. (2002)

Performance on tests of frontal lobe function reflect general intellectual ability.

Neuropsychologia 40: 970–977.

5. Duan X, Wei S, Wang G, Shi J (2010) The relationship between executive

functions and intelligence on 11- to 12-year-old children. Psychological Test and

Assessment Modeling 52: 419–431.

6. Garavan H, Ross TJ, Stein EA (1999) Right hemispheric dominance of

inhibitory control: An event-related functional MRI study. Proceedings of the

National Academy of Sciences 96: 8301–8306.

7. Miyake A, Friedman NP, Emerson MJ, Witzki AH, Howerter A, et al. (2000)

The Unity and Diversity of Executive Functions and Their Contributions to

Complex ‘‘Frontal Lobe’’ Tasks: A Latent Variable Analysis. Cognitive

Psychology 41: 49–100.

8. Friedman NP, Miyake A, Corley RP, Young SE, DeFries JC, et al. (2006) Not

All Executive Functions Are Related to Intelligence. Psychological Science 17:

172–179.

9. Brydges CR, Reid CL, Fox AM, Anderson M (2012) A unitary executive

function predicts intelligence in children. Intelligence 40: 458–469.

10. Brydges CR, Clunies-Ross K, Clohessy M, Lo ZL, Nguyen A, et al. (2012)

Dissociable Components of Cognitive Control: An Event-Related Potential

(ERP) Study of Response Inhibition and Interference Suppression. PLoS ONE

7: e34482.

11. Bunge SA, Dudukovic NM, Thomason ME, Vaidya CJ, Gabrieli JDE (2002)

Immature Frontal Lobe Contributions to Cognitive Control in Children:

Evidence from fMRI. Neuron 33: 301–311.

12. Friedman NP, Miyake A (2004) The Relations Among Inhibition and

Interference Control Functions: A Latent-Variable Analysis. Journal of

Experimental Psychology: General 133: 101–135.

13. Nigg JT (2000) On inhibition/disinhibition in developmental psychopathology:

Views from cognitive and personality psychology and a working inhibition

taxonomy. Psychological Bulletin 126: 220–246.

14. Dempster FN (1993) Resistance to interference: Developmental changes in a

basic processing dimension. In: Howe ML, Pasnak R, editors. Emerging themes

in cognitive development Vol 1: Foundations. New York: Springer-Verlag. 3–27.

15. Harnishfeger KK (1995) The development of cognitive inhibition: Theories,

definitions, and research evidence. In: Dempster FN, Brainerd CJ, editors.

Interference and inhibition in cognition. San Diego, CA: Academic Press. 175–

204.

16. van Boxtel GJM, van der Molen MW, Jennings JR, Brunia CHM (2001) A

psychophysiological analysis of inhibitory motor control in the stop-signal

paradigm. Biological Psychology 58: 229–262.

17. Carter C, van Veen V (2007) Anterior cingulate cortex and conflict detection:

An update of theory and data. Cognitive, Affective, & Behavioral Neuroscience

7: 367–379.

18. Cragg L, Fox A, Nation K, Reid C, Anderson M (2009) Neural correlates of

successful and partial inhibitions in children: An ERP study. Developmental

Psychobiology 51: 533–543.

19. Falkenstein M, Hoormann J, Hohnsbein J (1999) ERP components in Go/Nogo

tasks and their relation to inhibition. Acta Psychologica 101: 267–291.

20. Tillman CM, Wiens S (2011) Behavioral and ERP indices of response conflict in

Stroop and flanker tasks. Psychophysiology 48: 1405–1411.

21. Jodo E, Kayama Y (1992) Relation of a negative ERP component to response

inhibition in a Go/No-go task. Electroencephalography and Clinical Neuro-

physiology 82: 477–482.

22. Logan GD, Buckrell J (1986) Dependence and Independence in Responding to

Double Stimulation: A Comparison of Stop, Change, and Dual-Task Paradigms.

Journal of Experimental Psychology: Human Perception and Performance 12:

549–563.

23. St Clair-Thompson HL, Gathercole SE (2006) Executive functions and

achievements in school: Shifting, updating, inhibition, and working memory.

The Quarterly Journal of Experimental Psychology 59: 745–759.

24. Huizinga M, Dolan CV, van der Molen MW (2006) Age-related change in

executive function: Developmental trends and a latent variable analysis.

Neuropsychologia 44: 2017–2036.

25. Lehto JE, Juujärvi P, Kooistra L, Pulkkinen L (2003) Dimensions of executive

functioning: Evidence from children. British Journal of Developmental

Psychology 21: 59–80.

26. Leon-Carrion J, Garcia-Orza J, Perez-Santamaria FJ (2004) Development of the

Inhibitory Component of the Executive Functions in Children and Adolescents.

International Journal of Neuroscience 114: 1291–1311.

27. Diamond A (1988) Abilities and Neural Mechanisms Underlying AB

Performance. Child Development 59: 523–527.

28. Fuster JM (2002) Frontal lobe and cognitive development. Journal of

Neurocytology 31: 373–385.

29. Johnstone SJ, Pleffer CB, Barry RJ, Clarke AR, Smith JL (2005) Development of

Inhibitory Processing During the Go/NoGo Task. Journal of Psychophysiology

19: 11–23.

30. Brouwer RM, Mandl RCW, Schnack HG, van Soelen ILC, van Baal GC, et al.

(2012) White Matter Development in Early Puberty: A Longitudinal Volumetric

and Diffusion Tensor Imaging Twin Study. PLoS ONE 7: e32316.

31. Tamm L, Menon V, Reiss AL (2002) Maturation of Brain Function Associated

With Response Inhibition. Journal of the American Academy of Child &

Adolescent Psychiatry 41: 1231–1238.

32. Jonkman LM, Sniedt FLF, Kemner C (2007) Source localization of the Nogo-

N2: A developmental study. Clinical Neurophysiology 118: 1069–1077.

33. Rueda MR, Posner M, Rothbart M, Davis-Stober C (2004) Development of the

time course for processing conflict: an event-related potentials study with 4 year

olds and adults. BMC Neuroscience 5: 39.

34. Semlitsch HV, Anderer P, Schuster P, Presslich O (1986) A solution for reliable

and valid reduction of ocular artifacts, applied to the P300 ERP. Psychophys-

iology 23: 695–703.

35. Guthrie D, Buchwald JS (1991) Significance Testing of Difference Potentials.

Psychophysiology 28: 240–244.

36. Lancaster JL, Rainey LH, Summerlin JL, Freitas CS, Fox PT, et al. (1997)

Automated labeling of the human brain: a preliminary report on the

development and evaluation of a forward-transform method. Human Brain

Mapping 5: 238–242.

37. Lancaster JL, Woldorff MG, Parsons LM, Liotti M, Freitas CS, et al. (2000)

Automated Talairach Atlas labels for functional brain mapping. Human Brain

Mapping 10: 120–131.

38. Braver TS, Barch DM, Gray JR, Molfese DL, Snyder A (2001) Anterior

Cingulate Cortex and Response Conflict: Effects of Frequency, Inhibition and

Errors. Cerebral Cortex 11: 825–836.

39. Devinsky O, Morrell MJ, Vogt BA (1995) REVIEW ARTICLE: Contributions

of anterior cingulate cortex to behaviour. Brain 118: 279–306.

40. Reiss AL, Abrams MT, Singer HS, Ross JL, Denckla MB (1996) Brain

development, gender and IQ in children. Brain 119: 1763–1774.

41. Hershey T, Campbell MC, Videen TO, Lugar HM, Weaver PM, et al. (2010)

Mapping Go–No-Go performance within the subthalamic nucleus region. Brain

133: 3625–3634.

42. Tamnes CK, Østby Y, Fjell AM, Westlye LT, Due-Tønnessen P, et al. (2010)

Brain Maturation in Adolescence and Young Adulthood: Regional Age-Related

Changes in Cortical Thickness and White Matter Volume and Microstructure.

Cerebral Cortex 20: 534–548.

43. Cardenas VA, Chao LL, Blumenfeld R, Song E, Meyerhoff DJ, et al. (2005)

Using automated morphometry to detect associations between ERP latency and

structural brain MRI in normal adults. Human Brain Mapping 25: 317–327.

Maturation of Cognitive Control

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 7 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e69826

44. Picton TW, Taylor MJ (2007) Electrophysiological Evaluation of Human Brain

Development. Developmental Neuropsychology 31: 249–278.
45. Kelly AMC, Di Martino A, Uddin LQ, Shehzad Z, Gee DG, et al. (2009)

Development of Anterior Cingulate Functional Connectivity from Late

Childhood to Early Adulthood. Cerebral Cortex 19: 640–657.
46. Casey BJ, Giedd JN, Thomas KM (2000) Structural and functional brain

development and its relation to cognitive development. Biological Psychology
54: 241–257.

47. Caeyenberghs K, Leemans A, Heitger MH, Leunissen I, Dhollander T, et al.

(2012) Graph analysis of functional brain networks for cognitive control of action
in traumatic brain injury. Brain 135: 1293–1307.

48. Kinnunen KM, Greenwood R, Powell JH, Leech R, Hawkins PC, et al. (2011)
White matter damage and cognitive impairment after traumatic brain injury.

Brain 134: 449–463.
49. Bayless S, Stevenson J (2007) Executive functions in school-age children born

very prematurely. Early Human Development 83: 247–254.

50. Cooke RWI, Abernethy LJ (1999) Cranial magnetic resonance imaging and
school performance in very low birth weight infants in adolescence. Archives of

Disease in Childhood – Fetal and Neonatal Edition 81: F116–F121.

51. Nosarti C, Al-Asady MHS, Frangou S, Stewart AL, Rifkin L, et al. (2002)

Adolescents who were born very preterm have decreased brain volumes. Brain

125: 1616–1623.

52. Fassbender C, Murphy K, Foxe JJ, Wylie GR, Javitt DC, et al. (2004) A

topography of executive functions and their interactions revealed by functional

magnetic resonance imaging. Cognitive Brain Research 20: 132–143.

53. Tanji J, Hoshi E (2008) Role of the Lateral Prefrontal Cortex in Executive

Behavioral Control. Physiological Reviews 88: 37–57.

54. Konishi S, Nakajima K, Uchida I, Kikyo H, Kameyama M, et al. (1999)

Common inhibitory mechanism in human inferior prefrontal cortex revealed by

event-related functional MRI. Brain 122: 981–991.

55. Botvinick M, Nystrom LE, Fissell K, Carter CS, Cohen JD (1999) Conflict

monitoring versus selection-for-action in anterior cingulate cortex. Nature 402:

179–181.

56. Swick D, Jovanovic J (2002) Anterior cingulate cortex and the Stroop task:

neuropsychological evidence for topographic specificity. Neuropsychologia 40:

1240–1253.

Maturation of Cognitive Control

PLOS ONE | www.plosone.org 8 July 2013 | Volume 8 | Issue 7 | e69826

Copyright of PLoS ONE is the property of Public Library of Science and its content may not
be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder’s
express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for
individual use.

Available online at http://www.monash.edu.au/lls/llonline/quickrefs/

July 2007 © Monash University

QuickRef 27
How to write the case study

There are two different approaches to case studies

Type 1: The Analytical Approach

The case study is examined in order to try and understand what has happened and why.
It is not necessary to identify problems or suggest solutions.

Type 2: The Problem-Oriented Method

The case study is analysed to identify the major problems that exist and to suggest
solutions to these problems.

This Quickref focuses on Type 2:
The Problem-Oriented Method

Check with your lecturer which type they require.

A successful case study analyses a real life situation where existing problems need to be
solved. It should:

• Relate the theory to a practical situation; for example, apply the ideas
and knowledge discussed in the coursework to the practical situation
at hand in the case study.

• Identify the problems

• Select the major problems in the case

• Suggest solutions to these major problems

• Recommend the best solution to be implemented

• Detail how this solution should be implemented

NB: The Case is the “real life” situation

The Case Study is the analysis of this situation

July 2007 © Monash University

How to Write the Case Study

There are usually eight sections in a case study.

Synopsis/Executive Summary
• Outline the purpose of the case study
• Describe the field of research – this is usually an overview of the company
• Outline the issues and findings of the case study without the specific details
• Identify the theory that will be used.
• Here, the reader should be able to get a clear picture of the essential contents of the study.
• Note any assumptions made (you may not have all the information you’d like so some assumptions

may be necessary eg: “It has been assumed that…”, “Assuming that it takes half an hour to read
one document…”)

Findings
• Identify the problems found in the case. Each analysis of a problem should be supported by facts

given in the case together with the relevant theory and course concepts. Here, it is important to
search for the underlying problems for example: cross-cultural conflict may be only a symptom of the
underlying problem of inadequate policies and practices within the company.

• This section is often divided into sub-sections, one for each problem.
Discussion
• Summarise the major problem/s
• Identify alternative solutions to this/these major problem/s (there is likely to be more than one

solution per problem)
• Briefly outline each alternative solution and then evaluate it in terms of its advantages and

disadvantages
• No need to refer to theory or coursework here.
Conclusion
• Sum up the main points from the findings and discussion

Recommendations
• Choose which of the alternative solutions should be adopted
• Briefly justify your choice explaining how it will solve the major problem/s
• This should be written in a forceful style as this section is intended to be persuasive
• Here integration of theory and coursework is appropriate
Implementation
• Explain what should be done, by whom and by when
• If appropriate include a rough estimate of costs (both financial and time).
References
• Make sure all references are sited correctly

Appendices (if any)
• Note any original data that relates to the study but which would have interrupted the flow of the main

body.

Other useful references
LLOnline, IT Case Study http://www.monash.edu.au/lls/llonline/writing/information-technology/case-study/
Kimberly, N & Crosling, G 2005, Q Manual, Monash University, Caulfield East, Vic, pp.47-49.
Management Case Study, L & L Online tutorial http://www.monash.edu.au/lls/llonline/writing/business-

economics/management/index.xml

http://www.monash.edu.au/lls/llonline/writing/information-technology/case-study/

http://www.monash.edu.au/lls/llonline/writing/business-economics/management/index.xml

http://www.monash.edu.au/lls/llonline/writing/business-economics/management/index.xml

July 2007 © Monash University

Summers, J & Smith, B 2004, Communication skills handbook, John Wiley & Sons, Milton, Qld, pp.47-62.

  • QuickRef 27How to write the case study
  • NB: The Case is the “real life” situation
    The Case Study is the analysis of this situation
    How to Write the Case Study
    Synopsis/Executive Summary
    Findings
    Discussion
    Conclusion
    Recommendations
    Implementation
    References
    Appendices (if any)

Still stressed from student homework?
Get quality assistance from academic writers!

Order your essay today and save 25% with the discount code LAVENDER