The mystery of automatic parental love
Can we make sense of love for newborns?
One feature of love that has always struck me as essential for any satisfying account of love to capture—a datum that simply must be accommodated, if what we're providing an account of is to deserve the name "love"—is non-arbitrariness. If I asked, of someone who loves me, why she loves me, and she said that she didn't have a reason—as if it could just as easily have been that she instead loved some random person across the street, or a tractor, or a rock—or appealed to a reason that struck me as unimportant, such as my having been born on October 27, I'd be disappointed. And not just disappointed in the sense that it'd have been better for the love to be a response to qualities about me that matter (e.g., perhaps something about my personality, or maybe being a morally good person in certain ways); going beyond this, I'd be forced to question whether what the other person feels for me even deserves to be called "love." Love seems to have the sort of value and meaning worthy of the name only when it's in some way grounded in important or love-worthy features of the beloved. This is a major reason why I tend to be sympathetic to theories that view love as being ultimately a kind of perception or appraisal of value.
This way of thinking, though, runs into a puzzle: What about parents' love for their children—particularly their newborn children? Many or most parents will say that they loved their children from the moment they first saw them. (This is quite possibly the only kind of love at first sight that's widely believed in.) Yet newborns haven't yet done anything; they have no accomplishments to speak of, nor have they had a chance to even develop a personality. True, presumably they'll eventually develop a personality and go on to do worthwhile things; once they do, I could see how it'd make sense to love them. But what about before? Why would parents love their children immediately or automatically, before the children have had the chance to develop themselves in ways that would make the love make sense?
Probably the most common answer here would be something like "I directly participated in the creation of this child; I love him because he's mine." Why, however, would a mere genetic connection or causal relation justify love? It's unclear to me why such considerations would matter in the relevant way. When I think of what kinds of qualities would justify love, I think of qualities that are good (e.g., having a heart of kindness)—and being something one's responsible for creating doesn't strike me as a good quality, but simply a neutral one. For instance, I might create a random doodle, but I don't love it just because I created it. If "I created it" isn't a good reason for loving a doodle, why is it any better a reason for loving a baby?1
If all this is right, then the suggestion, unsettling as it may be, would seem to be that parents have no good reasons (except maybe for purely instrumental ones2) to love their newborns. Some might think that such a suggestion is in tension with a child's right to be loved: That all children have a right to be loved gives parents an excellent reason to love their newborns. Here, though, I believe that we need to distinguish between the right to be loved and the right to be treated lovingly. While I'd say that children evidently have a right to the latter (such as by being provided with sufficient food, shelter, education, kindness, encouragement, and other things they need), I see no reason for thinking that children have a right that goes beyond this—a right to actually be loved, rather than simply treated lovingly.
Some are probably now wondering, "Okay, Harry, what if you became a parent? What would you envision for yourself then?" In that eventuality, I would see my newborn child as having the right to be treated lovingly, and I'd endeavor to treat her accordingly. I don't see, though, how I could bring myself to actually love her—not until she's developed a personality, started making her own choices, and so on. To the extent that I did feel positively toward her (e.g., because of her potential to grow into a full and wonderful person), it'd be a positivity I'd feel toward babies in general, rather than a reflection of anything special about mine. I'm aware that some would probably say that all this makes me, in some fundamental way, not quite human in the way most other people are. But it is what I honestly feel.
Of course, I could be wrong about all this. If you believe that there is something that makes it rational (in more than a merely instrumental way) to love one's newborn child, please feel free to share in the comments. Also feel free to share if you have any other thoughts, questions, or objections. As always, I welcome any discussion.
Some might object this is not a fair comparison, as immensely more work goes into creating a baby than creating a doodle. Two thoughts come to mind in response: First, the point raised by this objection is no doubt true when it comes to mothers, though it's less clearly the case when it comes to fathers. And since fathers, no less than mothers, presumably tend to love their newborn children, there remains the question of what reason there might be for such love. Second, insofar as the objection relies on the thought that having put a lot of work into creating something justifies loving it, there seem to be plenty of counterexamples. For instance, I put a great deal of effort into the body of work I produced as a college student, but I do not love that body of work. (In fact, loving it would, if anything, appear bizarre.)
For example, perhaps loving one's newborn makes it easier to be a parent thereto (such as by not being bothered as much by, say, frequent crying, having to endure sleeplessness, and so on).