Affection

I was teaching yesterday on primary and secondary reinforcers. Briefly, a primary reinforcer is something that we (humans) find rewarding naturally (i.e., food, water, sex, etc.). A secondary reinforcer, on the other hand, is something that we only find rewarding due to it's association with a primary reinforcer. Money is a perfect example - people don't love money because we pop out of the womb having an affinity for little green slips of paper, we love money because of what we think it can get us.

Well for a very long time, it was thought that affection (hugging, cuddling, etc.) was a secondary reinforcer developed through it's association with food during nursing. But a very bright scientist, Dr. Harry Harlow, did an experiment that challenged all that (Check it out here). It's results were astounding, basically he found that not only is affection a primary reinforcer - it is THE primary reinforcer; it is exponentially more desirable than food! In short, our desire for it looks almost insatiable.

I was telling my students this calls everything we assume about "good enough" parenting into question. Basically, to be a good parent is a whole lot more than just "putting a roof over their head and filling mouths with food." Then, out of nowhere (I've never said this in another lecture and I've taught this material more times than I can count), I said "and this ought to make you really suspicious of anyone who says they 'don't need people' or 'don't like to be affectionate,' because they are basically saying they don't need something that looks foundational to life."

This really got me thinking about affection, security, and the fall. About all of the people I've known and the ways that I, myself, have tried to deny my need for affection or to live without affection. About this ache that I feel to be entirely loved, all of the time and how ridiculously unattainable that desire is in the world as we know it.

I was reading C.S. Lewis' The Weight of Glory last night. In it he discusses how our desires are rooted in possibilities (not necessarily actualities). Basically, he was saying that if you see someone who is hungry you can pretty much assume food exists - not necessarily that that particular man will be fed but that the possibility of being fed exists. Similarly, I wonder if this huge ache for all encompassing affection means that the possibility of it's satiation exists. And if so what that means?

I think the Christian faith provides a pretty compelling answer that (1) our ache is real (a reflection of the brokenness of the world and us), (2) our ache is meaningful (it reflects a possibility of satiation) and (3) our ache will be fulfilled (through ultimate reunification with God).