Letters from Maine

This has been an unfortunate, but not an atypical year, for the children in Maine whose lives have intersected with the state’s Department of Health and Human Services. In 2021, 25 children died of abuse and neglect or in homes with prior involvement with the child protective system. Four cases not included in that number are currently listed as homicides. At a recent legislative hearing the grandmother of one of those victims told her story to the lawmaker.

Her grandson was removed from his mother’s custody at 3 months of age after a 2-year-old sibling overdosed on methadone. Father and grandmother became his caregivers but when the father was arrested the child was returned to the mother’s custody by a judge despite the pleas of the child’s court-appointed guardian. The child eventually returned to the care of his paternal aunt and father, but when the father was arrested again the then 3-year-old was returned to his mother. Within months he was dead with multiple fractures, including to his spine and with internal and intracranial bleeding (Overton P. Maine’s child welfare system failed a 3-year old who died, grandmother tells lawmakers. 2022 Feb 11. Portland Press Herald).

The grandmother questioned the legislators why a vulnerable child would be returned to the care of a woman with such an extensive history of involvement with the Department of Health and Human Services. While there may have been errors of judgment on the part of department staff, in large part the answer lies in the system’s emphasis on reunification. Like apple pie, motherhood, and more recently fatherhood, have been viewed as something deserving of our unquestioning efforts to preserve.

This is not a recent trend. Some of the most frustrating cases over my 40 years of practice involved the failure of the courts and in some cases social workers to place a child’s welfare in the proper perspective as court schedules and custody decisions were made. Too often the reunification of “the family” seemed to trump the needs of the child. Fortunately, I’m unaware of any of my patients who died as the result of these untimely and poorly made decisions. However, many of my patients lived in unsettled conditions never sure what the next week would bring while the system focused on giving an adult whose life was a mess one more chance to demonstrate his or her ability to parent.

Of course, there are occasions in which child protective workers have been too hasty in pulling a child from his or her parents. But, in my experience those cases pale next to the number of times in which children were exposed to home environments that threatened their psychological health and development. Yes, there are bad foster homes. Many foster homes might do a better job if they were working in a system that put a higher value on the emotional needs and safety of the children in making its custody decisions.

We have a governor here in Maine who has worked hard to do the right thing during the pandemic and has made child health a focus. However, her recent proposed appropriations bill appears to continue the focus on reunification by funneling money into programs such as family reunion training and coaching as well as a parent mentorship program. Certainly, one can’t argue that these kind of programs might be helpful to some families. On the other hand, we can’t let these programs create the impression that an intact family is our primary goal. Not every family is repairable, at least on a time schedule compatible with the emotional and health needs of the children.

I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that many of you have experienced a similar frustration when decisions based on an unrealistic goal of family reunification have put your patients at risk.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

This has been an unfortunate, but not an atypical year, for the children in Maine whose lives have intersected with the state’s Department of Health and Human Services. In 2021, 25 children died of abuse and neglect or in homes with prior involvement with the child protective system. Four cases not included in that number are currently listed as homicides. At a recent legislative hearing the grandmother of one of those victims told her story to the lawmaker.

Her grandson was removed from his mother’s custody at 3 months of age after a 2-year-old sibling overdosed on methadone. Father and grandmother became his caregivers but when the father was arrested the child was returned to the mother’s custody by a judge despite the pleas of the child’s court-appointed guardian. The child eventually returned to the care of his paternal aunt and father, but when the father was arrested again the then 3-year-old was returned to his mother. Within months he was dead with multiple fractures, including to his spine and with internal and intracranial bleeding (Overton P. Maine’s child welfare system failed a 3-year old who died, grandmother tells lawmakers. 2022 Feb 11. Portland Press Herald).

The grandmother questioned the legislators why a vulnerable child would be returned to the care of a woman with such an extensive history of involvement with the Department of Health and Human Services. While there may have been errors of judgment on the part of department staff, in large part the answer lies in the system’s emphasis on reunification. Like apple pie, motherhood, and more recently fatherhood, have been viewed as something deserving of our unquestioning efforts to preserve.

This is not a recent trend. Some of the most frustrating cases over my 40 years of practice involved the failure of the courts and in some cases social workers to place a child’s welfare in the proper perspective as court schedules and custody decisions were made. Too often the reunification of “the family” seemed to trump the needs of the child. Fortunately, I’m unaware of any of my patients who died as the result of these untimely and poorly made decisions. However, many of my patients lived in unsettled conditions never sure what the next week would bring while the system focused on giving an adult whose life was a mess one more chance to demonstrate his or her ability to parent.

Of course, there are occasions in which child protective workers have been too hasty in pulling a child from his or her parents. But, in my experience those cases pale next to the number of times in which children were exposed to home environments that threatened their psychological health and development. Yes, there are bad foster homes. Many foster homes might do a better job if they were working in a system that put a higher value on the emotional needs and safety of the children in making its custody decisions.

We have a governor here in Maine who has worked hard to do the right thing during the pandemic and has made child health a focus. However, her recent proposed appropriations bill appears to continue the focus on reunification by funneling money into programs such as family reunion training and coaching as well as a parent mentorship program. Certainly, one can’t argue that these kind of programs might be helpful to some families. On the other hand, we can’t let these programs create the impression that an intact family is our primary goal. Not every family is repairable, at least on a time schedule compatible with the emotional and health needs of the children.

I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that many of you have experienced a similar frustration when decisions based on an unrealistic goal of family reunification have put your patients at risk.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

This has been an unfortunate, but not an atypical year, for the children in Maine whose lives have intersected with the state’s Department of Health and Human Services. In 2021, 25 children died of abuse and neglect or in homes with prior involvement with the child protective system. Four cases not included in that number are currently listed as homicides. At a recent legislative hearing the grandmother of one of those victims told her story to the lawmaker.

Her grandson was removed from his mother’s custody at 3 months of age after a 2-year-old sibling overdosed on methadone. Father and grandmother became his caregivers but when the father was arrested the child was returned to the mother’s custody by a judge despite the pleas of the child’s court-appointed guardian. The child eventually returned to the care of his paternal aunt and father, but when the father was arrested again the then 3-year-old was returned to his mother. Within months he was dead with multiple fractures, including to his spine and with internal and intracranial bleeding (Overton P. Maine’s child welfare system failed a 3-year old who died, grandmother tells lawmakers. 2022 Feb 11. Portland Press Herald).

The grandmother questioned the legislators why a vulnerable child would be returned to the care of a woman with such an extensive history of involvement with the Department of Health and Human Services. While there may have been errors of judgment on the part of department staff, in large part the answer lies in the system’s emphasis on reunification. Like apple pie, motherhood, and more recently fatherhood, have been viewed as something deserving of our unquestioning efforts to preserve.

This is not a recent trend. Some of the most frustrating cases over my 40 years of practice involved the failure of the courts and in some cases social workers to place a child’s welfare in the proper perspective as court schedules and custody decisions were made. Too often the reunification of “the family” seemed to trump the needs of the child. Fortunately, I’m unaware of any of my patients who died as the result of these untimely and poorly made decisions. However, many of my patients lived in unsettled conditions never sure what the next week would bring while the system focused on giving an adult whose life was a mess one more chance to demonstrate his or her ability to parent.

Of course, there are occasions in which child protective workers have been too hasty in pulling a child from his or her parents. But, in my experience those cases pale next to the number of times in which children were exposed to home environments that threatened their psychological health and development. Yes, there are bad foster homes. Many foster homes might do a better job if they were working in a system that put a higher value on the emotional needs and safety of the children in making its custody decisions.

We have a governor here in Maine who has worked hard to do the right thing during the pandemic and has made child health a focus. However, her recent proposed appropriations bill appears to continue the focus on reunification by funneling money into programs such as family reunion training and coaching as well as a parent mentorship program. Certainly, one can’t argue that these kind of programs might be helpful to some families. On the other hand, we can’t let these programs create the impression that an intact family is our primary goal. Not every family is repairable, at least on a time schedule compatible with the emotional and health needs of the children.

I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that many of you have experienced a similar frustration when decisions based on an unrealistic goal of family reunification have put your patients at risk.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

My wife and I had been married for 3 or 4 years when I became aware that a small cluster of my new in-laws had taken to referring to me as “Dr. I-don’t-know.” It wasn’t hard to figure out how I had earned this potentially derogatory moniker. As the only physician in the family it was not unusual for me to be peppered with medical questions. Most were unanswerable, at least by me. For example, “Will, how does aspirin work?” – which in the 1970s wasn’t something covered in medical school. Other questions were asked in a context that made it clear my answer was going to be so far removed from the preformed opinion of the questioner that Thanksgiving dinner didn’t feel like an appropriate occasion for my answer. “I don’t think I really know,” seemed to make the most sense.

In those early growing years of my outpatient general practice my in-laws weren’t the only people who must have thought of me as “Dr. I-don’t-know.” My training took place in well-thought-of teaching hospitals and during my senior residency and military tour I did enough moonlighting that by the time I entered private practice I had logged a lot of hours in the trenches. But, there were still a ton of things I didn’t know.

You probably remember how those first few years on the outside of the ivory towers felt with no one handy to ask. Even if there was someone a phone call away you didn’t want to appear as incompetent as you were by telling the patient or family that you needed to call the department head at your training program.

So, what did you do? You called. But you developed some clever language that could buy you time while you called your old mentor or hit the books. There was no Internet. Generally, that script would start with some version of “I don’t know, but ...”

As time passed and you gained more experience there were fewer questions and situations in which you needed to admit you were a few clues short of the answer. However, still, many times a day, you honestly didn’t know the answer. Hopefully, over time, you had perfected your delivery so that revealing your ignorance wasn’t driving patients away.

The art of saying “I don’t know” boils down to what you say after the “but” and how you say it. As long as you have offered a plan to find the answer and demonstrate that you are concerned about the patient, your ignorance will be tolerated and maybe even be appreciated.

“I don’t know the answer to that question, but let’s see if we can find a solution” could cover it. If finding that solution is going to require more time than the office visit allows – which it usually doesn’t – the promise of a timely response and a commitment to keep that promise is an absolute requirement. Repeated failure to keep promises is one of the quickest ways to sour a patient-doctor relationship and a potential practice killer.

I think my in-laws no longer refer to me as Dr. I-don’t-know. At least they have refrained from asking me any medical questions. But, my reputation as a physician unafraid to admit his ignorance continues here in town. Occasionally I encounter a parent of a former patient who fondly recalls my willingness to say “I don’t know.” If we had a family crest I would like it to include the motto “Ignoramus Sed Pertinet” (We don’t know but we care).
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

The headline on this article was updated on 2/28/22.

My wife and I had been married for 3 or 4 years when I became aware that a small cluster of my new in-laws had taken to referring to me as “Dr. I-don’t-know.” It wasn’t hard to figure out how I had earned this potentially derogatory moniker. As the only physician in the family it was not unusual for me to be peppered with medical questions. Most were unanswerable, at least by me. For example, “Will, how does aspirin work?” – which in the 1970s wasn’t something covered in medical school. Other questions were asked in a context that made it clear my answer was going to be so far removed from the preformed opinion of the questioner that Thanksgiving dinner didn’t feel like an appropriate occasion for my answer. “I don’t think I really know,” seemed to make the most sense.

In those early growing years of my outpatient general practice my in-laws weren’t the only people who must have thought of me as “Dr. I-don’t-know.” My training took place in well-thought-of teaching hospitals and during my senior residency and military tour I did enough moonlighting that by the time I entered private practice I had logged a lot of hours in the trenches. But, there were still a ton of things I didn’t know.

You probably remember how those first few years on the outside of the ivory towers felt with no one handy to ask. Even if there was someone a phone call away you didn’t want to appear as incompetent as you were by telling the patient or family that you needed to call the department head at your training program.

So, what did you do? You called. But you developed some clever language that could buy you time while you called your old mentor or hit the books. There was no Internet. Generally, that script would start with some version of “I don’t know, but ...”

As time passed and you gained more experience there were fewer questions and situations in which you needed to admit you were a few clues short of the answer. However, still, many times a day, you honestly didn’t know the answer. Hopefully, over time, you had perfected your delivery so that revealing your ignorance wasn’t driving patients away.

The art of saying “I don’t know” boils down to what you say after the “but” and how you say it. As long as you have offered a plan to find the answer and demonstrate that you are concerned about the patient, your ignorance will be tolerated and maybe even be appreciated.

“I don’t know the answer to that question, but let’s see if we can find a solution” could cover it. If finding that solution is going to require more time than the office visit allows – which it usually doesn’t – the promise of a timely response and a commitment to keep that promise is an absolute requirement. Repeated failure to keep promises is one of the quickest ways to sour a patient-doctor relationship and a potential practice killer.

I think my in-laws no longer refer to me as Dr. I-don’t-know. At least they have refrained from asking me any medical questions. But, my reputation as a physician unafraid to admit his ignorance continues here in town. Occasionally I encounter a parent of a former patient who fondly recalls my willingness to say “I don’t know.” If we had a family crest I would like it to include the motto “Ignoramus Sed Pertinet” (We don’t know but we care).
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

The headline on this article was updated on 2/28/22.

My wife and I had been married for 3 or 4 years when I became aware that a small cluster of my new in-laws had taken to referring to me as “Dr. I-don’t-know.” It wasn’t hard to figure out how I had earned this potentially derogatory moniker. As the only physician in the family it was not unusual for me to be peppered with medical questions. Most were unanswerable, at least by me. For example, “Will, how does aspirin work?” – which in the 1970s wasn’t something covered in medical school. Other questions were asked in a context that made it clear my answer was going to be so far removed from the preformed opinion of the questioner that Thanksgiving dinner didn’t feel like an appropriate occasion for my answer. “I don’t think I really know,” seemed to make the most sense.

In those early growing years of my outpatient general practice my in-laws weren’t the only people who must have thought of me as “Dr. I-don’t-know.” My training took place in well-thought-of teaching hospitals and during my senior residency and military tour I did enough moonlighting that by the time I entered private practice I had logged a lot of hours in the trenches. But, there were still a ton of things I didn’t know.

You probably remember how those first few years on the outside of the ivory towers felt with no one handy to ask. Even if there was someone a phone call away you didn’t want to appear as incompetent as you were by telling the patient or family that you needed to call the department head at your training program.

So, what did you do? You called. But you developed some clever language that could buy you time while you called your old mentor or hit the books. There was no Internet. Generally, that script would start with some version of “I don’t know, but ...”

As time passed and you gained more experience there were fewer questions and situations in which you needed to admit you were a few clues short of the answer. However, still, many times a day, you honestly didn’t know the answer. Hopefully, over time, you had perfected your delivery so that revealing your ignorance wasn’t driving patients away.

The art of saying “I don’t know” boils down to what you say after the “but” and how you say it. As long as you have offered a plan to find the answer and demonstrate that you are concerned about the patient, your ignorance will be tolerated and maybe even be appreciated.

“I don’t know the answer to that question, but let’s see if we can find a solution” could cover it. If finding that solution is going to require more time than the office visit allows – which it usually doesn’t – the promise of a timely response and a commitment to keep that promise is an absolute requirement. Repeated failure to keep promises is one of the quickest ways to sour a patient-doctor relationship and a potential practice killer.

I think my in-laws no longer refer to me as Dr. I-don’t-know. At least they have refrained from asking me any medical questions. But, my reputation as a physician unafraid to admit his ignorance continues here in town. Occasionally I encounter a parent of a former patient who fondly recalls my willingness to say “I don’t know.” If we had a family crest I would like it to include the motto “Ignoramus Sed Pertinet” (We don’t know but we care).
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

The headline on this article was updated on 2/28/22.

You have a 16-year-old patient who has been doing poorly in school. He has withdrawn from his social group and quit the sports in which he excelled. He admits to using marijuana “maybe once or twice a week.” But you and his parents suspect that it is much more often and contributing to the change in his behavior and school performance.

They would prefer he not use marijuana at all but could maybe be comfortable with some arrangement in which their son could demonstrate that his usage was indeed limited to once or twice on the weekends. They ask for your help with crafting a contract that might include “some urine or blood test” that would allow them to be sure their son was adhering to the contract.

You explain to them that there are hazards associated with setting up contracts such as the one they are proposing. One revolving around the issue of trust. Another being that he may be addicted to the point that a compromise that includes scaling back his usage is unlikely to succeed. And, finally, you tell them that because of marijuana’s pharmacokinetics, their son’s urine tests will always be positive and not reflective of the how much he is using or whether he is intoxicated.

Scenarios similar to this are increasingly common for those of us living in states that have legalized recreational cannabis use. The absence of a laboratory test that can determine when a person is impaired by marijuana has made life difficult for law enforcement officers accustomed to relying on breath and blood tests for alcohol to confirm their suspicion that a driver is under the influence.

In addition, because marijuana is still detectable days after it is used, many well-paying jobs go unfilled when potential applicants are hesitant to submit to a required drug test. The quirky pharmacokinetics of cannabis are well-known to the recreational users and they see no reason to risk failing a urine test regardless of how good the job may be.

This lack of a reliable indicator of cannabis intoxication has not gone unnoticed, and in a recent study published in the journal Neuropharmacology, researchers at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston report some hopeful results using fNIRS brain scanning. The investigators observed an increase in the level of oxygenated hemoglobin concentration (HbO), which is a type of neural activity signature, in the prefrontal cortex region of the volunteers who reported being impaired.

While a brain scan may sound like an unwieldy tool to use on roadside sobriety stops, the researchers report that portable scanners – some using skull cap sensors – could be easily adapted for use by law enforcement in the field. This technology also could be used by employers on the job site to test truck drivers and heavy machine operators at the beginning of each shift, thereby allaying the fears of responsible cannabis users.

This technology might be helpful to you in advising the parents of the 16-year-old you suspect of heavy usage. It would certainly help in confirming the suspicion that he is using more often than he claims. However, the contract the parents propose still may not work. If this young man demonstrates on multiple attempts that his word can’t be trusted, technology isn’t going to be the answer.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

You have a 16-year-old patient who has been doing poorly in school. He has withdrawn from his social group and quit the sports in which he excelled. He admits to using marijuana “maybe once or twice a week.” But you and his parents suspect that it is much more often and contributing to the change in his behavior and school performance.

They would prefer he not use marijuana at all but could maybe be comfortable with some arrangement in which their son could demonstrate that his usage was indeed limited to once or twice on the weekends. They ask for your help with crafting a contract that might include “some urine or blood test” that would allow them to be sure their son was adhering to the contract.

You explain to them that there are hazards associated with setting up contracts such as the one they are proposing. One revolving around the issue of trust. Another being that he may be addicted to the point that a compromise that includes scaling back his usage is unlikely to succeed. And, finally, you tell them that because of marijuana’s pharmacokinetics, their son’s urine tests will always be positive and not reflective of the how much he is using or whether he is intoxicated.

Scenarios similar to this are increasingly common for those of us living in states that have legalized recreational cannabis use. The absence of a laboratory test that can determine when a person is impaired by marijuana has made life difficult for law enforcement officers accustomed to relying on breath and blood tests for alcohol to confirm their suspicion that a driver is under the influence.

In addition, because marijuana is still detectable days after it is used, many well-paying jobs go unfilled when potential applicants are hesitant to submit to a required drug test. The quirky pharmacokinetics of cannabis are well-known to the recreational users and they see no reason to risk failing a urine test regardless of how good the job may be.

This lack of a reliable indicator of cannabis intoxication has not gone unnoticed, and in a recent study published in the journal Neuropharmacology, researchers at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston report some hopeful results using fNIRS brain scanning. The investigators observed an increase in the level of oxygenated hemoglobin concentration (HbO), which is a type of neural activity signature, in the prefrontal cortex region of the volunteers who reported being impaired.

While a brain scan may sound like an unwieldy tool to use on roadside sobriety stops, the researchers report that portable scanners – some using skull cap sensors – could be easily adapted for use by law enforcement in the field. This technology also could be used by employers on the job site to test truck drivers and heavy machine operators at the beginning of each shift, thereby allaying the fears of responsible cannabis users.

This technology might be helpful to you in advising the parents of the 16-year-old you suspect of heavy usage. It would certainly help in confirming the suspicion that he is using more often than he claims. However, the contract the parents propose still may not work. If this young man demonstrates on multiple attempts that his word can’t be trusted, technology isn’t going to be the answer.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

You have a 16-year-old patient who has been doing poorly in school. He has withdrawn from his social group and quit the sports in which he excelled. He admits to using marijuana “maybe once or twice a week.” But you and his parents suspect that it is much more often and contributing to the change in his behavior and school performance.

They would prefer he not use marijuana at all but could maybe be comfortable with some arrangement in which their son could demonstrate that his usage was indeed limited to once or twice on the weekends. They ask for your help with crafting a contract that might include “some urine or blood test” that would allow them to be sure their son was adhering to the contract.

You explain to them that there are hazards associated with setting up contracts such as the one they are proposing. One revolving around the issue of trust. Another being that he may be addicted to the point that a compromise that includes scaling back his usage is unlikely to succeed. And, finally, you tell them that because of marijuana’s pharmacokinetics, their son’s urine tests will always be positive and not reflective of the how much he is using or whether he is intoxicated.

Scenarios similar to this are increasingly common for those of us living in states that have legalized recreational cannabis use. The absence of a laboratory test that can determine when a person is impaired by marijuana has made life difficult for law enforcement officers accustomed to relying on breath and blood tests for alcohol to confirm their suspicion that a driver is under the influence.

In addition, because marijuana is still detectable days after it is used, many well-paying jobs go unfilled when potential applicants are hesitant to submit to a required drug test. The quirky pharmacokinetics of cannabis are well-known to the recreational users and they see no reason to risk failing a urine test regardless of how good the job may be.

This lack of a reliable indicator of cannabis intoxication has not gone unnoticed, and in a recent study published in the journal Neuropharmacology, researchers at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston report some hopeful results using fNIRS brain scanning. The investigators observed an increase in the level of oxygenated hemoglobin concentration (HbO), which is a type of neural activity signature, in the prefrontal cortex region of the volunteers who reported being impaired.

While a brain scan may sound like an unwieldy tool to use on roadside sobriety stops, the researchers report that portable scanners – some using skull cap sensors – could be easily adapted for use by law enforcement in the field. This technology also could be used by employers on the job site to test truck drivers and heavy machine operators at the beginning of each shift, thereby allaying the fears of responsible cannabis users.

This technology might be helpful to you in advising the parents of the 16-year-old you suspect of heavy usage. It would certainly help in confirming the suspicion that he is using more often than he claims. However, the contract the parents propose still may not work. If this young man demonstrates on multiple attempts that his word can’t be trusted, technology isn’t going to be the answer.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

“Turns out smarter kids are made, not born.” The headline of the article leapt off the computer screen. Although I realize that it has limits when it comes to dissuading vaccine refusers, I believe that education is a critical element in the success of individuals and the societies they inhabit. However, I must admit to a bias based on my observations that, in general, cognitive skill is inherited. This is an opinion I suspect I share with most folks. You can understand why the article I discovered describing a recent study by several Harvard-based researchers caught my attention.

The study involved 33 mothers and their 1-year-old children. The researchers found that infants whose mothers were stressed and had a “fixed mindset” had lower brain activity than the infants of stressed mothers who held a “growth mindset.” You may be on top of the education literature but I had to do some heavy Googling to learn what was up with growth and fixed mindsets. Was this just a new riff on the whole mindfulness thing?

I quickly learned that in 2006 Carol Dweck, PhD, a psychologist now at Stanford, published a book titled “Mindset” (New York: Penguin Random House) in which she described individuals with a “fixed mindset” who believe that their personality or intelligence will not change over time. On the other hand, individuals with a “growth mindset” view their intelligence and personality as malleable. Her observations have spread across the education and self-help literature like a wildfire that has somehow been roaring along under my radar. I guess I have noticed a subtle change in emphasis when I hear some parents and educators praising a child’s effort in situations in which I might have expected them to say, “You’re so smart.” But, in general I have been clueless.

My initial impression was that this mindset stuff was just coining new buzz words to differentiate optimists from pessimists. But, here I am again revealing a fixed mindset bias. I probably should have said that someone demonstrating a growth mindset approach is “exercising optimism” instead of implying that they were simply born with a sunny disposition.

The growth mindset revolution has not been without skeptics and critics, which is not surprising because educators have a history of jumping on bandwagons before all the wheels have been completely tightened. However, the mindset approach does have some merit, especially for individuals in the center of the bell-shaped curve. We all know of individuals who have failed to meet or have exceeded what would seem to be rational expectations. It is likely that the degree to which a growth mindset approach was applied may be the explanation.

Which brings me to the question of whether we as pediatricians should be more careful of how we choose our words when talking to patients and parents. If the results of the study that alerted me to the growth mindset are reproducible, maybe we should be spending more time with new parents (all of whom are stressed by definition), helping them discover ways in which they can improve the situation they find themselves in by praising them for their efforts at parenting.

Should we be modeling growth mindset language by using it when we interact with our patients? For example, not just complimenting a child on the acquisition of a skill but adding that we were even more impressed by the effort required to acquire it. When we hear a parent clearly expressing a fixed mindset in describing their child should we correct them on the spot or make an appointment to discuss how adopting a growth mindset might help their child meet or exceed his or her potential?

Most smart children may be born that way, but there are always opportunities for improvement, and our patients and their parents need to believe that.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

“Turns out smarter kids are made, not born.” The headline of the article leapt off the computer screen. Although I realize that it has limits when it comes to dissuading vaccine refusers, I believe that education is a critical element in the success of individuals and the societies they inhabit. However, I must admit to a bias based on my observations that, in general, cognitive skill is inherited. This is an opinion I suspect I share with most folks. You can understand why the article I discovered describing a recent study by several Harvard-based researchers caught my attention.

The study involved 33 mothers and their 1-year-old children. The researchers found that infants whose mothers were stressed and had a “fixed mindset” had lower brain activity than the infants of stressed mothers who held a “growth mindset.” You may be on top of the education literature but I had to do some heavy Googling to learn what was up with growth and fixed mindsets. Was this just a new riff on the whole mindfulness thing?

I quickly learned that in 2006 Carol Dweck, PhD, a psychologist now at Stanford, published a book titled “Mindset” (New York: Penguin Random House) in which she described individuals with a “fixed mindset” who believe that their personality or intelligence will not change over time. On the other hand, individuals with a “growth mindset” view their intelligence and personality as malleable. Her observations have spread across the education and self-help literature like a wildfire that has somehow been roaring along under my radar. I guess I have noticed a subtle change in emphasis when I hear some parents and educators praising a child’s effort in situations in which I might have expected them to say, “You’re so smart.” But, in general I have been clueless.

My initial impression was that this mindset stuff was just coining new buzz words to differentiate optimists from pessimists. But, here I am again revealing a fixed mindset bias. I probably should have said that someone demonstrating a growth mindset approach is “exercising optimism” instead of implying that they were simply born with a sunny disposition.

The growth mindset revolution has not been without skeptics and critics, which is not surprising because educators have a history of jumping on bandwagons before all the wheels have been completely tightened. However, the mindset approach does have some merit, especially for individuals in the center of the bell-shaped curve. We all know of individuals who have failed to meet or have exceeded what would seem to be rational expectations. It is likely that the degree to which a growth mindset approach was applied may be the explanation.

Which brings me to the question of whether we as pediatricians should be more careful of how we choose our words when talking to patients and parents. If the results of the study that alerted me to the growth mindset are reproducible, maybe we should be spending more time with new parents (all of whom are stressed by definition), helping them discover ways in which they can improve the situation they find themselves in by praising them for their efforts at parenting.

Should we be modeling growth mindset language by using it when we interact with our patients? For example, not just complimenting a child on the acquisition of a skill but adding that we were even more impressed by the effort required to acquire it. When we hear a parent clearly expressing a fixed mindset in describing their child should we correct them on the spot or make an appointment to discuss how adopting a growth mindset might help their child meet or exceed his or her potential?

Most smart children may be born that way, but there are always opportunities for improvement, and our patients and their parents need to believe that.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

“Turns out smarter kids are made, not born.” The headline of the article leapt off the computer screen. Although I realize that it has limits when it comes to dissuading vaccine refusers, I believe that education is a critical element in the success of individuals and the societies they inhabit. However, I must admit to a bias based on my observations that, in general, cognitive skill is inherited. This is an opinion I suspect I share with most folks. You can understand why the article I discovered describing a recent study by several Harvard-based researchers caught my attention.

The study involved 33 mothers and their 1-year-old children. The researchers found that infants whose mothers were stressed and had a “fixed mindset” had lower brain activity than the infants of stressed mothers who held a “growth mindset.” You may be on top of the education literature but I had to do some heavy Googling to learn what was up with growth and fixed mindsets. Was this just a new riff on the whole mindfulness thing?

I quickly learned that in 2006 Carol Dweck, PhD, a psychologist now at Stanford, published a book titled “Mindset” (New York: Penguin Random House) in which she described individuals with a “fixed mindset” who believe that their personality or intelligence will not change over time. On the other hand, individuals with a “growth mindset” view their intelligence and personality as malleable. Her observations have spread across the education and self-help literature like a wildfire that has somehow been roaring along under my radar. I guess I have noticed a subtle change in emphasis when I hear some parents and educators praising a child’s effort in situations in which I might have expected them to say, “You’re so smart.” But, in general I have been clueless.

My initial impression was that this mindset stuff was just coining new buzz words to differentiate optimists from pessimists. But, here I am again revealing a fixed mindset bias. I probably should have said that someone demonstrating a growth mindset approach is “exercising optimism” instead of implying that they were simply born with a sunny disposition.

The growth mindset revolution has not been without skeptics and critics, which is not surprising because educators have a history of jumping on bandwagons before all the wheels have been completely tightened. However, the mindset approach does have some merit, especially for individuals in the center of the bell-shaped curve. We all know of individuals who have failed to meet or have exceeded what would seem to be rational expectations. It is likely that the degree to which a growth mindset approach was applied may be the explanation.

Which brings me to the question of whether we as pediatricians should be more careful of how we choose our words when talking to patients and parents. If the results of the study that alerted me to the growth mindset are reproducible, maybe we should be spending more time with new parents (all of whom are stressed by definition), helping them discover ways in which they can improve the situation they find themselves in by praising them for their efforts at parenting.

Should we be modeling growth mindset language by using it when we interact with our patients? For example, not just complimenting a child on the acquisition of a skill but adding that we were even more impressed by the effort required to acquire it. When we hear a parent clearly expressing a fixed mindset in describing their child should we correct them on the spot or make an appointment to discuss how adopting a growth mindset might help their child meet or exceed his or her potential?

Most smart children may be born that way, but there are always opportunities for improvement, and our patients and their parents need to believe that.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

For more than a decade, studies on the dubious value of education in the face of vaccine refusal and hesitancy have been accumulating. But, too often, the research has been ignored by folks who believe that they can teach the “misinformed” into dropping their resistance. Among some circles education ranks right up there with apple pie and motherhood as one of the pillars of Americana. Those wedded to the education mantra may acknowledge that teaching and preaching hasn’t worked well in the past. But, they may claim it’s because we haven’t done enough of it or hit the right buttons. The notion that if we can just share the facts with the uninformed everything will be fine is a myth that obviously is going to die slowly.

In a recent op-ed piece in the New York Times two physicians at Harvard Medical School reported on their study of about three-quarters of a million children who were eligible to receive HPV vaccines (2021 Dec 21. “Facts alone aren’t going to win over the unvaccinated. This might,” Anupam B. Jena and Christopher M. Worsham). The researchers found that children whose mothers had been diagnosed with cervical cancer were no more likely to be immunized than those children whose mothers had not had the disease. Who could be better informed about risks and hazards of contracting HPV than women with cervical cancer? If the facts won’t motivate, where does that leave us?

Those of you born before 1960 may remember or at least have heard about a television show called “Truth or Consequences.” It was a silly farce of a game show which has no bearing on our nation’s crisis of widespread vaccine refusal. However, buried in its title is the answer. If the truth isn’t convincing the resistors, then the obvious choice is consequences.

I hope that you have discovered that same strategy when counseling parents of misbehaving children. Talk is cheap and often ineffective. Explaining the error of his ways to a child who probably already knows what he is doing wrong is a waste of everyone’s time and unpleasant for those within earshot. At some point, sooner better than later, it’s time to say there is going to be a consequence for this misbehavior – going home from the playground, spending a few minutes in time-out, removing a privilege, etc. If consequences are chosen well and instituted with a minimum of idle threats, they work.

And, we are beginning to see it work in the face of pandemic shot refusal. Here in Maine the governor mandated that all health care workers be vaccinated. There was plenty of gnashing of teeth and threats of mass job walk offs. And, there were a few hospital workers who quit, but in the end it worked.

The trick is choosing consequences that have some teeth and make sense. Clearly, some folks who have read about the consequences of not getting vaccinated and may have even lost family members to the disease don’t see those losses as significant consequences for whatever reason. The threat of losing a job is likely to get their attention.

Threats must be carried out even though they may be disruptive in the short term. The good thing about well-crafted mandates is that they can be a win-win for everyone. The vaccine resisters don’t need to admit they were wrong. “Those shots are B.S., but the governor made me do it.” The problem is finding leaders who understand that education has its limits and who have the courage to create and administer the consequences.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

For more than a decade, studies on the dubious value of education in the face of vaccine refusal and hesitancy have been accumulating. But, too often, the research has been ignored by folks who believe that they can teach the “misinformed” into dropping their resistance. Among some circles education ranks right up there with apple pie and motherhood as one of the pillars of Americana. Those wedded to the education mantra may acknowledge that teaching and preaching hasn’t worked well in the past. But, they may claim it’s because we haven’t done enough of it or hit the right buttons. The notion that if we can just share the facts with the uninformed everything will be fine is a myth that obviously is going to die slowly.

In a recent op-ed piece in the New York Times two physicians at Harvard Medical School reported on their study of about three-quarters of a million children who were eligible to receive HPV vaccines (2021 Dec 21. “Facts alone aren’t going to win over the unvaccinated. This might,” Anupam B. Jena and Christopher M. Worsham). The researchers found that children whose mothers had been diagnosed with cervical cancer were no more likely to be immunized than those children whose mothers had not had the disease. Who could be better informed about risks and hazards of contracting HPV than women with cervical cancer? If the facts won’t motivate, where does that leave us?

Those of you born before 1960 may remember or at least have heard about a television show called “Truth or Consequences.” It was a silly farce of a game show which has no bearing on our nation’s crisis of widespread vaccine refusal. However, buried in its title is the answer. If the truth isn’t convincing the resistors, then the obvious choice is consequences.

I hope that you have discovered that same strategy when counseling parents of misbehaving children. Talk is cheap and often ineffective. Explaining the error of his ways to a child who probably already knows what he is doing wrong is a waste of everyone’s time and unpleasant for those within earshot. At some point, sooner better than later, it’s time to say there is going to be a consequence for this misbehavior – going home from the playground, spending a few minutes in time-out, removing a privilege, etc. If consequences are chosen well and instituted with a minimum of idle threats, they work.

And, we are beginning to see it work in the face of pandemic shot refusal. Here in Maine the governor mandated that all health care workers be vaccinated. There was plenty of gnashing of teeth and threats of mass job walk offs. And, there were a few hospital workers who quit, but in the end it worked.

The trick is choosing consequences that have some teeth and make sense. Clearly, some folks who have read about the consequences of not getting vaccinated and may have even lost family members to the disease don’t see those losses as significant consequences for whatever reason. The threat of losing a job is likely to get their attention.

Threats must be carried out even though they may be disruptive in the short term. The good thing about well-crafted mandates is that they can be a win-win for everyone. The vaccine resisters don’t need to admit they were wrong. “Those shots are B.S., but the governor made me do it.” The problem is finding leaders who understand that education has its limits and who have the courage to create and administer the consequences.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

For more than a decade, studies on the dubious value of education in the face of vaccine refusal and hesitancy have been accumulating. But, too often, the research has been ignored by folks who believe that they can teach the “misinformed” into dropping their resistance. Among some circles education ranks right up there with apple pie and motherhood as one of the pillars of Americana. Those wedded to the education mantra may acknowledge that teaching and preaching hasn’t worked well in the past. But, they may claim it’s because we haven’t done enough of it or hit the right buttons. The notion that if we can just share the facts with the uninformed everything will be fine is a myth that obviously is going to die slowly.

In a recent op-ed piece in the New York Times two physicians at Harvard Medical School reported on their study of about three-quarters of a million children who were eligible to receive HPV vaccines (2021 Dec 21. “Facts alone aren’t going to win over the unvaccinated. This might,” Anupam B. Jena and Christopher M. Worsham). The researchers found that children whose mothers had been diagnosed with cervical cancer were no more likely to be immunized than those children whose mothers had not had the disease. Who could be better informed about risks and hazards of contracting HPV than women with cervical cancer? If the facts won’t motivate, where does that leave us?

Those of you born before 1960 may remember or at least have heard about a television show called “Truth or Consequences.” It was a silly farce of a game show which has no bearing on our nation’s crisis of widespread vaccine refusal. However, buried in its title is the answer. If the truth isn’t convincing the resistors, then the obvious choice is consequences.

I hope that you have discovered that same strategy when counseling parents of misbehaving children. Talk is cheap and often ineffective. Explaining the error of his ways to a child who probably already knows what he is doing wrong is a waste of everyone’s time and unpleasant for those within earshot. At some point, sooner better than later, it’s time to say there is going to be a consequence for this misbehavior – going home from the playground, spending a few minutes in time-out, removing a privilege, etc. If consequences are chosen well and instituted with a minimum of idle threats, they work.

And, we are beginning to see it work in the face of pandemic shot refusal. Here in Maine the governor mandated that all health care workers be vaccinated. There was plenty of gnashing of teeth and threats of mass job walk offs. And, there were a few hospital workers who quit, but in the end it worked.

The trick is choosing consequences that have some teeth and make sense. Clearly, some folks who have read about the consequences of not getting vaccinated and may have even lost family members to the disease don’t see those losses as significant consequences for whatever reason. The threat of losing a job is likely to get their attention.

Threats must be carried out even though they may be disruptive in the short term. The good thing about well-crafted mandates is that they can be a win-win for everyone. The vaccine resisters don’t need to admit they were wrong. “Those shots are B.S., but the governor made me do it.” The problem is finding leaders who understand that education has its limits and who have the courage to create and administer the consequences.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

Unless your social circle is packed with medical professionals, I suspect you are the go-to gal/guy when there is a question about the pandemic. Seated around the fire pit trying to stay warm and socially distanced, inevitably the discussion will turn to COVID. Someone will report something they have read about vaccine side effects or the appropriate timing of isolation or quarantine and then turn to me assuming that I have inside information and ask: “But Will you know all about that. Tell us what have you heard.”

By now, well into our second year of the pandemic, my friends and neighbors should have come to expect my usual answer. “I don’t really know any more about this than you have read on the Internet or seen on television.” I am flattered that folks keep asking for my observations. I guess old habits die slowly. Although I usually introduce myself as an ex-pediatrician, the “doctor” descriptor still seems to command some respect, whether it is deserved or not.

It is not just my waning ability to speak authoritatively about the pandemic that has put expertise at death’s door. Although my formal medical education is more than a half-century old, like most physicians I have tried to stay abreast of what’s happening in health care. Keeping up to date with the new developments in pathophysiology and pharmacology does take some work, but the pandemic has shone a spotlight on how quickly these changes can occur.

With the pandemic, a sense of urgency has thrust onto the world stage opinions that in the past might have been quietly held theories based on preliminary studies. However, even the most careful scientists who might otherwise have been content to patiently wait for peer review are sharing their findings prematurely with international news sources and on social media. Not surprisingly, this rush to share has generated confusion and concern and in many cases resulted in retractions or corrections. Even more importantly, it has made us all skeptical about who these “experts” are, making often disproven pronouncements.

While my friends still persist in politely asking my opinion based on the same reports we are all reading on the Internet, I sense the nation as a whole has become wary of claimed expertise. I haven’t done a Google search but I wouldn’t be surprised if “expert” gets far fewer hits than the term “so-called expert.”

Even before we were engulfed by the pandemic, there has been an unfortunate phenomenon in which health care providers and other scientists are parlaying their degrees to promote products with little if any proven efficacy. Of course, this country has a long history of snake oil salesmen making their rounds. However, the electronic media and the Internet have increased the power to persuade so that we are awash in so-called experts. Many good scientists, in an attempt to be helpful, have succumbed to the sin of impatience. And there are a few who had never earned the moniker “expert.”

I hope that expertise returns to the landscape when the pandemic abates. But, I fear it may be a while.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

Unless your social circle is packed with medical professionals, I suspect you are the go-to gal/guy when there is a question about the pandemic. Seated around the fire pit trying to stay warm and socially distanced, inevitably the discussion will turn to COVID. Someone will report something they have read about vaccine side effects or the appropriate timing of isolation or quarantine and then turn to me assuming that I have inside information and ask: “But Will you know all about that. Tell us what have you heard.”

By now, well into our second year of the pandemic, my friends and neighbors should have come to expect my usual answer. “I don’t really know any more about this than you have read on the Internet or seen on television.” I am flattered that folks keep asking for my observations. I guess old habits die slowly. Although I usually introduce myself as an ex-pediatrician, the “doctor” descriptor still seems to command some respect, whether it is deserved or not.

It is not just my waning ability to speak authoritatively about the pandemic that has put expertise at death’s door. Although my formal medical education is more than a half-century old, like most physicians I have tried to stay abreast of what’s happening in health care. Keeping up to date with the new developments in pathophysiology and pharmacology does take some work, but the pandemic has shone a spotlight on how quickly these changes can occur.

With the pandemic, a sense of urgency has thrust onto the world stage opinions that in the past might have been quietly held theories based on preliminary studies. However, even the most careful scientists who might otherwise have been content to patiently wait for peer review are sharing their findings prematurely with international news sources and on social media. Not surprisingly, this rush to share has generated confusion and concern and in many cases resulted in retractions or corrections. Even more importantly, it has made us all skeptical about who these “experts” are, making often disproven pronouncements.

While my friends still persist in politely asking my opinion based on the same reports we are all reading on the Internet, I sense the nation as a whole has become wary of claimed expertise. I haven’t done a Google search but I wouldn’t be surprised if “expert” gets far fewer hits than the term “so-called expert.”

Even before we were engulfed by the pandemic, there has been an unfortunate phenomenon in which health care providers and other scientists are parlaying their degrees to promote products with little if any proven efficacy. Of course, this country has a long history of snake oil salesmen making their rounds. However, the electronic media and the Internet have increased the power to persuade so that we are awash in so-called experts. Many good scientists, in an attempt to be helpful, have succumbed to the sin of impatience. And there are a few who had never earned the moniker “expert.”

I hope that expertise returns to the landscape when the pandemic abates. But, I fear it may be a while.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

Unless your social circle is packed with medical professionals, I suspect you are the go-to gal/guy when there is a question about the pandemic. Seated around the fire pit trying to stay warm and socially distanced, inevitably the discussion will turn to COVID. Someone will report something they have read about vaccine side effects or the appropriate timing of isolation or quarantine and then turn to me assuming that I have inside information and ask: “But Will you know all about that. Tell us what have you heard.”

By now, well into our second year of the pandemic, my friends and neighbors should have come to expect my usual answer. “I don’t really know any more about this than you have read on the Internet or seen on television.” I am flattered that folks keep asking for my observations. I guess old habits die slowly. Although I usually introduce myself as an ex-pediatrician, the “doctor” descriptor still seems to command some respect, whether it is deserved or not.

It is not just my waning ability to speak authoritatively about the pandemic that has put expertise at death’s door. Although my formal medical education is more than a half-century old, like most physicians I have tried to stay abreast of what’s happening in health care. Keeping up to date with the new developments in pathophysiology and pharmacology does take some work, but the pandemic has shone a spotlight on how quickly these changes can occur.

With the pandemic, a sense of urgency has thrust onto the world stage opinions that in the past might have been quietly held theories based on preliminary studies. However, even the most careful scientists who might otherwise have been content to patiently wait for peer review are sharing their findings prematurely with international news sources and on social media. Not surprisingly, this rush to share has generated confusion and concern and in many cases resulted in retractions or corrections. Even more importantly, it has made us all skeptical about who these “experts” are, making often disproven pronouncements.

While my friends still persist in politely asking my opinion based on the same reports we are all reading on the Internet, I sense the nation as a whole has become wary of claimed expertise. I haven’t done a Google search but I wouldn’t be surprised if “expert” gets far fewer hits than the term “so-called expert.”

Even before we were engulfed by the pandemic, there has been an unfortunate phenomenon in which health care providers and other scientists are parlaying their degrees to promote products with little if any proven efficacy. Of course, this country has a long history of snake oil salesmen making their rounds. However, the electronic media and the Internet have increased the power to persuade so that we are awash in so-called experts. Many good scientists, in an attempt to be helpful, have succumbed to the sin of impatience. And there are a few who had never earned the moniker “expert.”

I hope that expertise returns to the landscape when the pandemic abates. But, I fear it may be a while.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

In the November 2021 issue of Pediatric News are two stories that on the surface present viewpoints that couldn’t be more divergent. On page 1 under the headline “Gender dysphoria” you will read about a position statement by the Royal Australian and New Zealand College of Psychiatrists (RANZCP) in which they strongly recommend a mental health evaluation for any child or adolescent with gender dysphoria “before any firm decisions are made on whether to prescribe hormonal treatments to transition, or perform surgeries.”

On page 6 is another story titled “Gender-affirming care ‘can save lives’ new research shows” that reports on a research study in which transgender and binary young people who received a year of gender-affirming care experienced less depression and fewer suicidal thoughts. Dr. David J. Inwards-Breland, chief of adolescent and young adult medicine at Rady Children’s Hospital in San Diego and one of the authors of the study is quoted as saying “The younger we can provide gender-affirming care, the less likely [our patients are] to have depression and then negative outcomes.” One can’t avoid the impression that he is in favor of moving ahead without delay in prescribing gender-affirming care.

Where does the new recommendation by the RANZCP fit in with this sense of urgency? Does requiring a mental health evaluation constitute a delay in the institution of gender-affirming care that could increase the risk of negative mental health outcomes for gender dysphoric patients?

In one of the final paragraphs in the Pediatric News article one learns that Dr. Inwards-Breland would agree with the folks of RANZCP. He acknowledges that his study relied on screening and not diagnostic testing and says that “future studies should look at a mental health evaluation and diagnosis by a mental health provider.”

When we drill into the details there are two issues that demand clarification. First, what kind of time course are we talking about for a mental health evaluation? Are we talking weeks, or months, hopefully not years? This of course depends on the availability of mental health services for the specific patient and the depth of the evaluation required. How long a delay is acceptable?

Second, will the evaluation be performed by a provider free of bias? Can it be performed without creating the impression that the patient needs to see a mental health provider because there is something wrong with being trans and we can fix it? One would hope these evaluations would be performed in the spirit of wanting to learn more about the patient with the goal of making the process go more smoothly.

Listening to neighborhood discussions around the fire pit I find that the RANZCP plea for a broader and deeper look at each gender-dysphoric child strikes a chord with the general population. More and more people are realizing that gender-dysphoria happens and that for too long it was closeted with unfortunate consequences. However, there is a feeling, in fact one in which I share, that the rapid rise in its prevalence contains an element of social contagion. And, some irreversible decisions are being made without sufficient consideration. This may or not be a valid concern but it seems to me a thorough and sensitively done mental health evaluation might minimize the collateral damage from some gender-affirming care and at least help those patients for whom it is prescribed transition more smoothly.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

In the November 2021 issue of Pediatric News are two stories that on the surface present viewpoints that couldn’t be more divergent. On page 1 under the headline “Gender dysphoria” you will read about a position statement by the Royal Australian and New Zealand College of Psychiatrists (RANZCP) in which they strongly recommend a mental health evaluation for any child or adolescent with gender dysphoria “before any firm decisions are made on whether to prescribe hormonal treatments to transition, or perform surgeries.”

On page 6 is another story titled “Gender-affirming care ‘can save lives’ new research shows” that reports on a research study in which transgender and binary young people who received a year of gender-affirming care experienced less depression and fewer suicidal thoughts. Dr. David J. Inwards-Breland, chief of adolescent and young adult medicine at Rady Children’s Hospital in San Diego and one of the authors of the study is quoted as saying “The younger we can provide gender-affirming care, the less likely [our patients are] to have depression and then negative outcomes.” One can’t avoid the impression that he is in favor of moving ahead without delay in prescribing gender-affirming care.

Where does the new recommendation by the RANZCP fit in with this sense of urgency? Does requiring a mental health evaluation constitute a delay in the institution of gender-affirming care that could increase the risk of negative mental health outcomes for gender dysphoric patients?

In one of the final paragraphs in the Pediatric News article one learns that Dr. Inwards-Breland would agree with the folks of RANZCP. He acknowledges that his study relied on screening and not diagnostic testing and says that “future studies should look at a mental health evaluation and diagnosis by a mental health provider.”

When we drill into the details there are two issues that demand clarification. First, what kind of time course are we talking about for a mental health evaluation? Are we talking weeks, or months, hopefully not years? This of course depends on the availability of mental health services for the specific patient and the depth of the evaluation required. How long a delay is acceptable?

Second, will the evaluation be performed by a provider free of bias? Can it be performed without creating the impression that the patient needs to see a mental health provider because there is something wrong with being trans and we can fix it? One would hope these evaluations would be performed in the spirit of wanting to learn more about the patient with the goal of making the process go more smoothly.

Listening to neighborhood discussions around the fire pit I find that the RANZCP plea for a broader and deeper look at each gender-dysphoric child strikes a chord with the general population. More and more people are realizing that gender-dysphoria happens and that for too long it was closeted with unfortunate consequences. However, there is a feeling, in fact one in which I share, that the rapid rise in its prevalence contains an element of social contagion. And, some irreversible decisions are being made without sufficient consideration. This may or not be a valid concern but it seems to me a thorough and sensitively done mental health evaluation might minimize the collateral damage from some gender-affirming care and at least help those patients for whom it is prescribed transition more smoothly.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

In the November 2021 issue of Pediatric News are two stories that on the surface present viewpoints that couldn’t be more divergent. On page 1 under the headline “Gender dysphoria” you will read about a position statement by the Royal Australian and New Zealand College of Psychiatrists (RANZCP) in which they strongly recommend a mental health evaluation for any child or adolescent with gender dysphoria “before any firm decisions are made on whether to prescribe hormonal treatments to transition, or perform surgeries.”

On page 6 is another story titled “Gender-affirming care ‘can save lives’ new research shows” that reports on a research study in which transgender and binary young people who received a year of gender-affirming care experienced less depression and fewer suicidal thoughts. Dr. David J. Inwards-Breland, chief of adolescent and young adult medicine at Rady Children’s Hospital in San Diego and one of the authors of the study is quoted as saying “The younger we can provide gender-affirming care, the less likely [our patients are] to have depression and then negative outcomes.” One can’t avoid the impression that he is in favor of moving ahead without delay in prescribing gender-affirming care.

Where does the new recommendation by the RANZCP fit in with this sense of urgency? Does requiring a mental health evaluation constitute a delay in the institution of gender-affirming care that could increase the risk of negative mental health outcomes for gender dysphoric patients?

In one of the final paragraphs in the Pediatric News article one learns that Dr. Inwards-Breland would agree with the folks of RANZCP. He acknowledges that his study relied on screening and not diagnostic testing and says that “future studies should look at a mental health evaluation and diagnosis by a mental health provider.”

When we drill into the details there are two issues that demand clarification. First, what kind of time course are we talking about for a mental health evaluation? Are we talking weeks, or months, hopefully not years? This of course depends on the availability of mental health services for the specific patient and the depth of the evaluation required. How long a delay is acceptable?

Second, will the evaluation be performed by a provider free of bias? Can it be performed without creating the impression that the patient needs to see a mental health provider because there is something wrong with being trans and we can fix it? One would hope these evaluations would be performed in the spirit of wanting to learn more about the patient with the goal of making the process go more smoothly.

Listening to neighborhood discussions around the fire pit I find that the RANZCP plea for a broader and deeper look at each gender-dysphoric child strikes a chord with the general population. More and more people are realizing that gender-dysphoria happens and that for too long it was closeted with unfortunate consequences. However, there is a feeling, in fact one in which I share, that the rapid rise in its prevalence contains an element of social contagion. And, some irreversible decisions are being made without sufficient consideration. This may or not be a valid concern but it seems to me a thorough and sensitively done mental health evaluation might minimize the collateral damage from some gender-affirming care and at least help those patients for whom it is prescribed transition more smoothly.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

How much did you get per tooth from the Tooth Fairy? How much do your children or grandchildren receive each time they lose a baby tooth? In my family the Tooth Fairy seems to be more than keeping with inflation. Has she ever been caught in the act of swapping cash for enamel in your home? Has she every slipped up one night but managed to resurrect her credibility the following night by doubling the reward? And, by the way, what does the Tooth Fairy do with all those teeth, and who’s funding her nocturnal switcheroos?

A recent study from the Center for Genomic Medicine at the Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston may provide an answer to at least one of those questions. It turns out some researchers have been collecting baby teeth in hopes of assessing prenatal and perinatal stress in infants.

Not surprisingly, teeth are like trees, preserving a history of the environment in their growth rings. The Boston researchers hypothesized that the thickness of one particular growth line referred to as the neonatal line (NNL) might reflect prenatal and immediate postnatal environmental stress. Using data and naturally shed teeth collected in an English longitudinal study, the authors discovered that the teeth of children whose mothers had a long history of severe depression or other psychiatric problems and children of mothers who at 32 weeks’ gestation experienced anxiety and/or depression were more likely to have thicker NNLs. On the other hand, the teeth of children whose mothers had received “significant social support” in the immediate postnatal period exhibited thinner NNLs.

Based on anecdotal observations, I think most of us already suspected that the children whose mothers had significant psychiatric illness began life with a challenge, but it is nice to know that we may now have a tool to document one small bit of evidence of the structural damage that occurred during this period of stress. Of course, the prior owners of these baby teeth won’t benefit from the findings in this study; however, the evidence that social support during the critical perinatal period can ameliorate the damage might stimulate more robust prenatal programs for mother and infants at risk in the future.

It will be interesting to see if this investigative tool becomes more widely used to determine the degree to which a variety of potential perinatal stressors are manifesting themselves in structural change in newborns. For example, collecting baby teeth from neonatal ICU graduates may answer some questions about how certain environmental conditions such as sound, vibration, bright light, and temperature may result in long-term damage to the infants. Most of us suspect that skin-to-skin contact with mother and kangaroo care are beneficial. A study that includes a survey of NNLs might go a long way toward supporting our suspicions.

I can even imagine that a deep retrospective study of NNLs in baby teeth collected over the last 100 years might demonstrate the effect of phenomena such as wars, natural disasters, forced migration, and pandemics, to name a few.

It may be time to put out a nationwide call to all Tooth Fairies both active and retired to dig deep in their top bureau drawers. Those little bits of long-forgotten enamel may hold the answers to a plethora of unanswered questions about those critical months surrounding the birth of a child.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

How much did you get per tooth from the Tooth Fairy? How much do your children or grandchildren receive each time they lose a baby tooth? In my family the Tooth Fairy seems to be more than keeping with inflation. Has she ever been caught in the act of swapping cash for enamel in your home? Has she every slipped up one night but managed to resurrect her credibility the following night by doubling the reward? And, by the way, what does the Tooth Fairy do with all those teeth, and who’s funding her nocturnal switcheroos?

A recent study from the Center for Genomic Medicine at the Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston may provide an answer to at least one of those questions. It turns out some researchers have been collecting baby teeth in hopes of assessing prenatal and perinatal stress in infants.

Not surprisingly, teeth are like trees, preserving a history of the environment in their growth rings. The Boston researchers hypothesized that the thickness of one particular growth line referred to as the neonatal line (NNL) might reflect prenatal and immediate postnatal environmental stress. Using data and naturally shed teeth collected in an English longitudinal study, the authors discovered that the teeth of children whose mothers had a long history of severe depression or other psychiatric problems and children of mothers who at 32 weeks’ gestation experienced anxiety and/or depression were more likely to have thicker NNLs. On the other hand, the teeth of children whose mothers had received “significant social support” in the immediate postnatal period exhibited thinner NNLs.

Based on anecdotal observations, I think most of us already suspected that the children whose mothers had significant psychiatric illness began life with a challenge, but it is nice to know that we may now have a tool to document one small bit of evidence of the structural damage that occurred during this period of stress. Of course, the prior owners of these baby teeth won’t benefit from the findings in this study; however, the evidence that social support during the critical perinatal period can ameliorate the damage might stimulate more robust prenatal programs for mother and infants at risk in the future.

It will be interesting to see if this investigative tool becomes more widely used to determine the degree to which a variety of potential perinatal stressors are manifesting themselves in structural change in newborns. For example, collecting baby teeth from neonatal ICU graduates may answer some questions about how certain environmental conditions such as sound, vibration, bright light, and temperature may result in long-term damage to the infants. Most of us suspect that skin-to-skin contact with mother and kangaroo care are beneficial. A study that includes a survey of NNLs might go a long way toward supporting our suspicions.

I can even imagine that a deep retrospective study of NNLs in baby teeth collected over the last 100 years might demonstrate the effect of phenomena such as wars, natural disasters, forced migration, and pandemics, to name a few.

It may be time to put out a nationwide call to all Tooth Fairies both active and retired to dig deep in their top bureau drawers. Those little bits of long-forgotten enamel may hold the answers to a plethora of unanswered questions about those critical months surrounding the birth of a child.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

How much did you get per tooth from the Tooth Fairy? How much do your children or grandchildren receive each time they lose a baby tooth? In my family the Tooth Fairy seems to be more than keeping with inflation. Has she ever been caught in the act of swapping cash for enamel in your home? Has she every slipped up one night but managed to resurrect her credibility the following night by doubling the reward? And, by the way, what does the Tooth Fairy do with all those teeth, and who’s funding her nocturnal switcheroos?

A recent study from the Center for Genomic Medicine at the Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston may provide an answer to at least one of those questions. It turns out some researchers have been collecting baby teeth in hopes of assessing prenatal and perinatal stress in infants.

Not surprisingly, teeth are like trees, preserving a history of the environment in their growth rings. The Boston researchers hypothesized that the thickness of one particular growth line referred to as the neonatal line (NNL) might reflect prenatal and immediate postnatal environmental stress. Using data and naturally shed teeth collected in an English longitudinal study, the authors discovered that the teeth of children whose mothers had a long history of severe depression or other psychiatric problems and children of mothers who at 32 weeks’ gestation experienced anxiety and/or depression were more likely to have thicker NNLs. On the other hand, the teeth of children whose mothers had received “significant social support” in the immediate postnatal period exhibited thinner NNLs.

Based on anecdotal observations, I think most of us already suspected that the children whose mothers had significant psychiatric illness began life with a challenge, but it is nice to know that we may now have a tool to document one small bit of evidence of the structural damage that occurred during this period of stress. Of course, the prior owners of these baby teeth won’t benefit from the findings in this study; however, the evidence that social support during the critical perinatal period can ameliorate the damage might stimulate more robust prenatal programs for mother and infants at risk in the future.

It will be interesting to see if this investigative tool becomes more widely used to determine the degree to which a variety of potential perinatal stressors are manifesting themselves in structural change in newborns. For example, collecting baby teeth from neonatal ICU graduates may answer some questions about how certain environmental conditions such as sound, vibration, bright light, and temperature may result in long-term damage to the infants. Most of us suspect that skin-to-skin contact with mother and kangaroo care are beneficial. A study that includes a survey of NNLs might go a long way toward supporting our suspicions.

I can even imagine that a deep retrospective study of NNLs in baby teeth collected over the last 100 years might demonstrate the effect of phenomena such as wars, natural disasters, forced migration, and pandemics, to name a few.

It may be time to put out a nationwide call to all Tooth Fairies both active and retired to dig deep in their top bureau drawers. Those little bits of long-forgotten enamel may hold the answers to a plethora of unanswered questions about those critical months surrounding the birth of a child.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

My 50th medical school reunion has come and gone. This milestone offered me another opportunity to look back over the last 5 decades of pediatrics that I have watched pass under the bridge. Triggered by the discovery of two recently published studies, this particular view back over my shoulder induced a wave of sadness, anger, and frustration that I have had trouble shaking.

The first study demonstrated a strong positive effect of exercise on academic achievement, the other found that children who were more physically active have weathered the pandemic with fewer mental health problems.

These studies are just two pieces of a growing body of evidence that our sedentary lifestyles are shortening our lives and launching our children into adulthood burdened with a raft of health risks they could possibly have avoided by being more physically active. Encountering these two papers just as the alumni office was inviting me to engage in an orgy of retrospection and introspection made me consider how little I and others in my profession have done to substantially address this scourge on our young people.

Yes, I have tried to encourage my patients to be less sedentary and more active. Yes, I have tried to set a very visible example by bicycling and walking around town. Yes, I have coached youth sports teams. All of my children and grandchildren are leading active lives and appear to be reaping the benefits. But in the grander scheme of things I feel that neither I nor the American Academy of Pediatrics has made a difference.

In March of 2020 the AAP published a clinical report that lists the numerous positive associations between activity and health that includes a comprehensive collection of suggestions for providers on how we might assess the problem of inactivity and then play a role in addressing it with our patients and our communities. Unfortunately, the message’s importance was lost in the glut of pandemic news.

While the AAP’s report should have been published many decades ago, I doubt the delay lessened its impact significantly because the report is primarily a compendium of recommendations that in the long run will be seen as just another example of us believers preaching to the choir.

Making lifestyle changes on the order of magnitude necessary to convert an increasingly sedentary population into one that unconsciously becomes physically active requires more than recommendations. It is only natural that folks have trouble saying “No.”

No to the entertainment of electronic devices. No to the comforts of all-weather enclosed transportation. No to hours on the couch. Overcoming the inertia built into our society is going to require more than encouragement, recommendations, and professional sports–sponsored presidential initiatives.

Mandate has become a politically charged dirty word. But our current experience with the COVID-19 vaccines should help us realize that there is a significant segment of the population that doesn’t like being told what to do even if the outcome is in their best interest. Education and rewards have fallen short, but the evidence is mounting that mandates can work.

There was a time when physical activity was built into every child’s school day. For a variety of bad reasons, vigorous physical education classes and once- or twice-daily outdoor recesses have disappeared from the educational landscape. It is time to return to them in a robust form. Unfortunately, because activity isn’t happening at home it will take a government mandate.

There will be pushback. Even from some educators whose observations should have shown them the critical role of physical activity in health and academic success. We must move the distraction of the phenomenon once known simply as hyperactivity to the back burner and tackle the real epidemic of hypoactivity that is destroying our children.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

My 50th medical school reunion has come and gone. This milestone offered me another opportunity to look back over the last 5 decades of pediatrics that I have watched pass under the bridge. Triggered by the discovery of two recently published studies, this particular view back over my shoulder induced a wave of sadness, anger, and frustration that I have had trouble shaking.

The first study demonstrated a strong positive effect of exercise on academic achievement, the other found that children who were more physically active have weathered the pandemic with fewer mental health problems.

These studies are just two pieces of a growing body of evidence that our sedentary lifestyles are shortening our lives and launching our children into adulthood burdened with a raft of health risks they could possibly have avoided by being more physically active. Encountering these two papers just as the alumni office was inviting me to engage in an orgy of retrospection and introspection made me consider how little I and others in my profession have done to substantially address this scourge on our young people.

Yes, I have tried to encourage my patients to be less sedentary and more active. Yes, I have tried to set a very visible example by bicycling and walking around town. Yes, I have coached youth sports teams. All of my children and grandchildren are leading active lives and appear to be reaping the benefits. But in the grander scheme of things I feel that neither I nor the American Academy of Pediatrics has made a difference.

In March of 2020 the AAP published a clinical report that lists the numerous positive associations between activity and health that includes a comprehensive collection of suggestions for providers on how we might assess the problem of inactivity and then play a role in addressing it with our patients and our communities. Unfortunately, the message’s importance was lost in the glut of pandemic news.

While the AAP’s report should have been published many decades ago, I doubt the delay lessened its impact significantly because the report is primarily a compendium of recommendations that in the long run will be seen as just another example of us believers preaching to the choir.

Making lifestyle changes on the order of magnitude necessary to convert an increasingly sedentary population into one that unconsciously becomes physically active requires more than recommendations. It is only natural that folks have trouble saying “No.”

No to the entertainment of electronic devices. No to the comforts of all-weather enclosed transportation. No to hours on the couch. Overcoming the inertia built into our society is going to require more than encouragement, recommendations, and professional sports–sponsored presidential initiatives.

Mandate has become a politically charged dirty word. But our current experience with the COVID-19 vaccines should help us realize that there is a significant segment of the population that doesn’t like being told what to do even if the outcome is in their best interest. Education and rewards have fallen short, but the evidence is mounting that mandates can work.

There was a time when physical activity was built into every child’s school day. For a variety of bad reasons, vigorous physical education classes and once- or twice-daily outdoor recesses have disappeared from the educational landscape. It is time to return to them in a robust form. Unfortunately, because activity isn’t happening at home it will take a government mandate.

There will be pushback. Even from some educators whose observations should have shown them the critical role of physical activity in health and academic success. We must move the distraction of the phenomenon once known simply as hyperactivity to the back burner and tackle the real epidemic of hypoactivity that is destroying our children.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

My 50th medical school reunion has come and gone. This milestone offered me another opportunity to look back over the last 5 decades of pediatrics that I have watched pass under the bridge. Triggered by the discovery of two recently published studies, this particular view back over my shoulder induced a wave of sadness, anger, and frustration that I have had trouble shaking.

The first study demonstrated a strong positive effect of exercise on academic achievement, the other found that children who were more physically active have weathered the pandemic with fewer mental health problems.

These studies are just two pieces of a growing body of evidence that our sedentary lifestyles are shortening our lives and launching our children into adulthood burdened with a raft of health risks they could possibly have avoided by being more physically active. Encountering these two papers just as the alumni office was inviting me to engage in an orgy of retrospection and introspection made me consider how little I and others in my profession have done to substantially address this scourge on our young people.

Yes, I have tried to encourage my patients to be less sedentary and more active. Yes, I have tried to set a very visible example by bicycling and walking around town. Yes, I have coached youth sports teams. All of my children and grandchildren are leading active lives and appear to be reaping the benefits. But in the grander scheme of things I feel that neither I nor the American Academy of Pediatrics has made a difference.

In March of 2020 the AAP published a clinical report that lists the numerous positive associations between activity and health that includes a comprehensive collection of suggestions for providers on how we might assess the problem of inactivity and then play a role in addressing it with our patients and our communities. Unfortunately, the message’s importance was lost in the glut of pandemic news.

While the AAP’s report should have been published many decades ago, I doubt the delay lessened its impact significantly because the report is primarily a compendium of recommendations that in the long run will be seen as just another example of us believers preaching to the choir.

Making lifestyle changes on the order of magnitude necessary to convert an increasingly sedentary population into one that unconsciously becomes physically active requires more than recommendations. It is only natural that folks have trouble saying “No.”

No to the entertainment of electronic devices. No to the comforts of all-weather enclosed transportation. No to hours on the couch. Overcoming the inertia built into our society is going to require more than encouragement, recommendations, and professional sports–sponsored presidential initiatives.

Mandate has become a politically charged dirty word. But our current experience with the COVID-19 vaccines should help us realize that there is a significant segment of the population that doesn’t like being told what to do even if the outcome is in their best interest. Education and rewards have fallen short, but the evidence is mounting that mandates can work.

There was a time when physical activity was built into every child’s school day. For a variety of bad reasons, vigorous physical education classes and once- or twice-daily outdoor recesses have disappeared from the educational landscape. It is time to return to them in a robust form. Unfortunately, because activity isn’t happening at home it will take a government mandate.

There will be pushback. Even from some educators whose observations should have shown them the critical role of physical activity in health and academic success. We must move the distraction of the phenomenon once known simply as hyperactivity to the back burner and tackle the real epidemic of hypoactivity that is destroying our children.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

The first patient of the afternoon is a 4-month-old in for his health maintenance visit. You’ve known his 20-year-old mother since she was a toddler. This infant has a 2-year-old sister. Also in the exam room is a young man you don’t recognize whom the mother introduces as Jason, her new boyfriend. He never makes eye contact and despite your best efforts you can’t get him to engage.

At the child’s next visit you are relieved to see the 6-month-old is alive and well and learn that your former patient and her two children have moved back in with her parents and Jason is no longer in the picture.

You don’t have to have been doing pediatrics very long to have learned that a “family” that includes an infant and a young adult male who is probably not the father is an environment in which the infant’s health and well-being is at significant risk. It is a situation in which child abuse even to the point of infanticide should be waving a red flag in your face.

Infanticide occurs in many animal species including our own. As abhorrent we may find the act, it occurs often enough to be, if not normal, at least not unexpected in certain circumstances. Theories abound as to what advantage the act of infanticide might convey to the success of a species. However, little if anything is known about any possible mechanisms that would allow it to occur.

Recently, a professor of molecular and cellular biology at Harvard University discovered a specific set of neurons in the mouse brain that controls aggressive behavior toward infants (Biological triggers for infant abuse, by Juan Siliezar, The Harvard Gazette, Sept 27, 2021). This same set of neurons also appears to trigger avoidance and neglect behaviors as well.

Research in other animal species has found that these antiparental behaviors occur in both virgins and sexually mature males who are strangers to the group. Interestingly, the behaviors switch off once individuals have their own offspring or have had the opportunity to familiarize themselves with infants. Not surprisingly, other studies have found that in some species environmental stress such as food shortage or threats of predation have triggered females to attack or ignore their offspring.

I think it is safe to assume a similar collection of neurons controlling aggressive behavior also exists in humans. One can imagine some well-read defense attorney dredging up this study and claiming that because his client had not yet fathered a child of his own that it was his nervous system’s normal response that made him toss his girlfriend’s baby against the wall.

The lead author of the study intends to study this collection of neurons in more depth to discover more about the process. It is conceivable that with more information her initial findings may help in the development of treatment and specific prevention strategies. Until that happens, we must rely on our intuition and keep our antennae tuned and alert for high-risk scenarios like the one I described at the opening of this letter.

We are left with leaning heavily on our community social work networks to keep close tabs on these high-risk families, offering both financial and emotional support. Parenting classes may be helpful, but some of this research leads me to suspect that immersing these young parents-to-be in hands-on child care situations might provide the best protection we can offer.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

The first patient of the afternoon is a 4-month-old in for his health maintenance visit. You’ve known his 20-year-old mother since she was a toddler. This infant has a 2-year-old sister. Also in the exam room is a young man you don’t recognize whom the mother introduces as Jason, her new boyfriend. He never makes eye contact and despite your best efforts you can’t get him to engage.

At the child’s next visit you are relieved to see the 6-month-old is alive and well and learn that your former patient and her two children have moved back in with her parents and Jason is no longer in the picture.

You don’t have to have been doing pediatrics very long to have learned that a “family” that includes an infant and a young adult male who is probably not the father is an environment in which the infant’s health and well-being is at significant risk. It is a situation in which child abuse even to the point of infanticide should be waving a red flag in your face.

Infanticide occurs in many animal species including our own. As abhorrent we may find the act, it occurs often enough to be, if not normal, at least not unexpected in certain circumstances. Theories abound as to what advantage the act of infanticide might convey to the success of a species. However, little if anything is known about any possible mechanisms that would allow it to occur.

Recently, a professor of molecular and cellular biology at Harvard University discovered a specific set of neurons in the mouse brain that controls aggressive behavior toward infants (Biological triggers for infant abuse, by Juan Siliezar, The Harvard Gazette, Sept 27, 2021). This same set of neurons also appears to trigger avoidance and neglect behaviors as well.

Research in other animal species has found that these antiparental behaviors occur in both virgins and sexually mature males who are strangers to the group. Interestingly, the behaviors switch off once individuals have their own offspring or have had the opportunity to familiarize themselves with infants. Not surprisingly, other studies have found that in some species environmental stress such as food shortage or threats of predation have triggered females to attack or ignore their offspring.

I think it is safe to assume a similar collection of neurons controlling aggressive behavior also exists in humans. One can imagine some well-read defense attorney dredging up this study and claiming that because his client had not yet fathered a child of his own that it was his nervous system’s normal response that made him toss his girlfriend’s baby against the wall.

The lead author of the study intends to study this collection of neurons in more depth to discover more about the process. It is conceivable that with more information her initial findings may help in the development of treatment and specific prevention strategies. Until that happens, we must rely on our intuition and keep our antennae tuned and alert for high-risk scenarios like the one I described at the opening of this letter.

We are left with leaning heavily on our community social work networks to keep close tabs on these high-risk families, offering both financial and emotional support. Parenting classes may be helpful, but some of this research leads me to suspect that immersing these young parents-to-be in hands-on child care situations might provide the best protection we can offer.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

The first patient of the afternoon is a 4-month-old in for his health maintenance visit. You’ve known his 20-year-old mother since she was a toddler. This infant has a 2-year-old sister. Also in the exam room is a young man you don’t recognize whom the mother introduces as Jason, her new boyfriend. He never makes eye contact and despite your best efforts you can’t get him to engage.

At the child’s next visit you are relieved to see the 6-month-old is alive and well and learn that your former patient and her two children have moved back in with her parents and Jason is no longer in the picture.

You don’t have to have been doing pediatrics very long to have learned that a “family” that includes an infant and a young adult male who is probably not the father is an environment in which the infant’s health and well-being is at significant risk. It is a situation in which child abuse even to the point of infanticide should be waving a red flag in your face.

Infanticide occurs in many animal species including our own. As abhorrent we may find the act, it occurs often enough to be, if not normal, at least not unexpected in certain circumstances. Theories abound as to what advantage the act of infanticide might convey to the success of a species. However, little if anything is known about any possible mechanisms that would allow it to occur.

Recently, a professor of molecular and cellular biology at Harvard University discovered a specific set of neurons in the mouse brain that controls aggressive behavior toward infants (Biological triggers for infant abuse, by Juan Siliezar, The Harvard Gazette, Sept 27, 2021). This same set of neurons also appears to trigger avoidance and neglect behaviors as well.

Research in other animal species has found that these antiparental behaviors occur in both virgins and sexually mature males who are strangers to the group. Interestingly, the behaviors switch off once individuals have their own offspring or have had the opportunity to familiarize themselves with infants. Not surprisingly, other studies have found that in some species environmental stress such as food shortage or threats of predation have triggered females to attack or ignore their offspring.

I think it is safe to assume a similar collection of neurons controlling aggressive behavior also exists in humans. One can imagine some well-read defense attorney dredging up this study and claiming that because his client had not yet fathered a child of his own that it was his nervous system’s normal response that made him toss his girlfriend’s baby against the wall.

The lead author of the study intends to study this collection of neurons in more depth to discover more about the process. It is conceivable that with more information her initial findings may help in the development of treatment and specific prevention strategies. Until that happens, we must rely on our intuition and keep our antennae tuned and alert for high-risk scenarios like the one I described at the opening of this letter.

We are left with leaning heavily on our community social work networks to keep close tabs on these high-risk families, offering both financial and emotional support. Parenting classes may be helpful, but some of this research leads me to suspect that immersing these young parents-to-be in hands-on child care situations might provide the best protection we can offer.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.