Education Should Be Built on Human Nature

As a father, I often ask myself: what exactly should I do to raise a child who is not anxious, not impatient, positive and optimistic, and able and willing to learn for a lifetime? My ultimate goal in raising the next generation is to cultivate a person who loves life and is highly adaptable to his environment—that is, I want my child to feel the joy of living, and to have the ability and enthusiasm to learn new knowledge and skills at any time as society changes, so as to live his life better.

So far, I think I have basically achieved that with my own child. I do not expect him to stand out, but I want him to have enough self-confidence. I have almost never put any negative labels on him or drawn any negative conclusions; I have always told him that he can learn well and that his future is bright. Even when his performance is not outstanding, I firmly believe his setbacks are only temporary. When he suffers setbacks, I comfort him and help him relax.

I also often comfort his mother, telling her to trust her child, not to rush to negate him, and not to hold pessimistic or negative expectations of him. At the same time, she must be prepared to accept the fact that her child may ultimately be quite ordinary. If a person can calmly accept the worst outcome, he will not fear the world, will not live in anxiety over the future, will not impose unnecessary pressure on his child, and will not rush to force growth like pulling up seedlings.

Nowadays there is much criticism of Chinese parents as impatiently chasing quick success. Some of it is fair, some not. Impatient chasing of quick success is a common failing of parents worldwide today, an unhealthy state of mind forced out of all humanity by the rapidly changing and turbulent social environment. Epidemiological data published by the WHO show that the incidence of depression is rising at a startling rate; WHO experts predict that by 2030 depression will overtake malignancies and cardiovascular and cerebrovascular diseases to become the world's leading burden of disease.

It is not only children who are depressed; adults are too. Many cannot adapt to this rapidly changing era. In our time, knowledge and technology are updated at a stifling pace. Every wave of new technology displaces a cohort of the old middle class into the ranks of the unemployed. This is unprecedented in human history: in the hunting age, the agricultural age, and even the industrial age, people could count on a stable job they could do until old age.

Now it is different. E-commerce has put brick-and-mortar shops out of business; new programming technologies have left older programmers obsolete; after globalization, a new infectious disease can circle the globe in 72 hours and become a pandemic affecting everyone's livelihood; even doctors, once thought to grow more valuable with age, are being made "redundant" by new medical technologies. Gene-editing technology will have a profound impact on the life sciences; a doctor who does not learn lifelong will soon fall behind.

Many people are baffled by today's high depression rates. Technological progress is actually improving human life, so why are people less happy after life has improved? The baby-boomer generation after World War II was more optimistic than our current generation, yet they grew up in hardship and scarcity—why are they happier than we are?

There are many explanations. My own view is that the rapid development we are living through has outstripped humanity's psychological capacity, causing so many mental disorders. As one species of living being, humans instinctively have a stress-response capacity, but when the speed of environmental change exceeds the speed of that response, mental health is broken.

Our next generation will inevitably live in a society that develops even faster than ours, so as parents we must cultivate children's ability to adapt. Adaptability is something I have always emphasized. We know the four characteristics of living things are growth, reproduction, irritability (stress response), and metabolism; of these, irritability is most closely tied to social factors. It is the adaptable who survive; without a good stress response, people struggle to survive in a fast-changing society.

How does one improve adaptability? First, one needs good psychological balance—that is, not being anxious, not being impatient, and being positive and optimistic, as I said at the outset. At the same time, one needs strong learning ability, always ready to learn new skills, improve oneself, and keep up with change. The two are indispensable. Good psychological balance without learning ability only lets someone retreat to the mountains and enjoy himself; good learning ability without psychological balance easily drives someone to extremes. Many top talents in various industries have taken their own lives; they were not lacking in learning ability, but their psychological balance was so poor that, under high pressure, chasing new technology, they were crushed and ultimately turned to suicide.

Last night, both my younger sisters happened to discuss child-rearing with me. One is my sister-in-law; she is very anxious about my niece's upbringing and desperately wants to do something but does not know how. She wanted my opinion, hoping her daughter would one day be as academically excellent as my son.

I told her that in educating her nephew (my son) I follow three principles.

The first is to let him play well. As a child, my son loved skating, the scooter, the yo-yo, the Rubik's cube, even harmless little pranks, and I never stopped him. When he played with yo-yos, he spent his pocket money on a pile of them, testing the feel of each and learning tricks no one else could do; I let him be. Many parents see play as a waste of time; I see play as learning. Play and study are both ways children develop their skills, and play suits children's nature better.

Teaching through entertainment is a foolish approach, because it cannot succeed; that artificial "fun" is not real joy but what parents and teachers imagine as fun. The smart approach is to teach through joy: if a child genuinely loves playing with something, he will master it on his own, and in mastering it he learns many skills that improve his abilities—skills useless for exams, to be sure, but enormously useful over a lifetime. A child who can work a yo-yo exceptionally well will, once he reaches the age when he loves learning, also do exceptionally well in school. Even if his grades are not exceptional, a child who played well will handle life and work with ease.

A happy childhood is an inexhaustible spiritual reservoir for a lifetime. Personally, I felt my own childhood was happy, because my parents had neither the time nor the energy to manage me and took a hands-off but not permissive attitude. They let me run wild, but did not let me bully others or lie. So now my life is simply the adult version of my childhood.

The second principle is to let the child make his own decisions, as early as possible. I often tell my son that parents and teachers are not always right; on any matter he must have his own judgment. If he believes he is right, he should stand his ground. But one thing he must remember: he is responsible for his own choices. If he suffers losses or is fooled, he must not complain or shift blame to others.

So my child has always looked hard to discipline. If his mother and I force some idea on him, he strongly resents it and refuses to obey. But if we talk with him as equals, as friends, and listen to his views, he is willing to talk; sometimes he even likes to lie side by side with me and talk through the night. On major matters I am responsible only for talking, not for deciding for him; the final decision remains his. I do not care whether the conversation influences him or whether he listens to me. Because I trust that he will gather information from many sources; what I provide is only one of several inputs, and weighing these inputs to make his own judgment is the right way.

He already has the independent thinking that most adults lack. Many people talk about independent thinking, but what they mean is a concept they cannot even explain, let alone operationalize. A child's independent thinking must be nurtured from childhood by an enlightened parent.

The third principle is patience. Plant roots have four zones: root cap, meristematic zone, elongation zone, and maturation zone. Root hairs grow mainly in the maturation zone; the water and inorganic salts plants need are absorbed through the root hairs from the outside (soil, or hydroponic nutrient solution). When a plant's whole root system is not yet developed, it cannot grow quickly. Over-fertilizing at this stage backfires, causing "root burn." So when raising plants or crops, one must patiently wait until the roots are established before watering and fertilizing heavily.

A child's growth follows the same law. Generally, the brain does not fully mature until late adolescence, so late adolescence is the best period for self-development. We see many children who are average in primary and middle school but surge ahead in high school, especially after grade 11. This is explained in the book We Are Our Brains by the Dutch brain scientist Dick Swaab, who found through extensive research that it is in late adolescence that intellectual factors determine academic performance.

Most children are born with the potential to "strike without warning, and astonish all." It is because parents do not understand this law, rush for quick results, and do too many counterproductive things. Many parents work hard to raise their children's grades, only to breed hatred of study or even of life, ending in tragedy.

We can wait patiently, with a good attitude, for our children to grow on their own. Even-tempered parents are the best psychologists for their children. If a child shows anxiety or depression beyond the normal limits of adolescent reaction, the parents should reflect on whether their own behavior is appropriate.

Last night, on a video call with my sister and nephew, I also gave my nephew a talk—encouraging him to study hard and discussing with him how to choose a major for the gaokao. My nephew is a month older than my son; the cousins were both raised by my parents, and for a while he lived with my maternal grandparents, growing up beside me. My nephew's grades are excellent; my walls are covered with his certificates. Since I will be taking the gaokao in the same year as the two cousins, he was interested in what I had to say.

My nephew said he has no mature ideas and does not know what major to choose in a year and a half. In this respect, Hubei's education lags far behind Beijing: Beijing children get career-planning courses from junior high, with dedicated teachers guiding them; Hubei does not. My son has a very clear goal: he intends to spend his life in mathematical research and teaching. My nephew is at sea, unsure how to choose his direction in life.

I told him that when choosing a major, he need not consider whether the major is hot, or whether it makes money. What matters most is whether he truly loves it. If you love something, you will do it well and stick with it for life. Like me, his uncle, who loves medicine: even if reality has smashed my head again and again, I brush it off like passing cloud and keep going, undeterred. Only with such inner strength can one excel at anything. In a country of over a billion people, being among the best in any profession means you will not go hungry. And only by choosing a direction you love will you have the lifelong passion and drive to learn; with that passion and drive, no matter how society turmoils and changes, you can adapt.

If, following others' advice, you choose a major you do not love, you waste your life and may face a lifelong disaster, because no one can passionately pursue a major they dislike for a lifetime; after a few years they will be sick of it. So I hope my nephew, when the time comes, will not be swayed by outside opinion but will listen to his inner voice. If anyone opposes it then, I, as his uncle, will back him up and help him overcome all objections.

The year I retake the gaokao happens to be the same year my son, my nephew, and two students studying medicine with me all take it. So I will be sitting the exam alongside the four most important younger people in my life, but my purpose differs from theirs; relatively, I carry far less pressure. I need not fight my way into a prestigious university, but they are in their prime and should compete with their peers and perform at their best. Yet all of us, living in this world, share the same human nature, so our purpose in self-development is the same: ultimately, the happiness of our lives depends on whether our growth is built on human nature.

I look forward to everyone growing up happily—not just my own children. I also look forward to every parent having a sound mind and broad knowledge, able to resist vulgar fashion, and accompanying their children with genuine warmth and care rather than with the anxiety and impatience picked up from society.