Everything in Topics 2.1 and 2.2 assumed something enormous and unexplained: that people arrive already fitted to their society. That they know how to be a patient, a student, a daughter. That they want roughly what their position expects them to want (1.1.3).

Nobody is born like that. Topic 2.3 asks how it happens.

And the first question is the oldest one about human beings — how much of what you are was already in you, and how much was put there?

The idea, in plain words

The cases, and what they can and cannot support

Kingsley Davis published two accounts in the 1940s that appear in almost every textbook. Anna, discovered at about six, tied in an attic, unable to speak or walk, who made limited progress before dying at ten. Isabelle, discovered at about six and a half, who had been isolated with a mother who could not speak, and who — with intensive systematic training — reached apparently normal speech and schooling within two years.

The contrast is instructive and it is also a very small sample with poor records, no controls, and confounded conditions. Davis himself was more careful than his summarisers.

The "wolf children" of Midnapore deserve particular mention for Indian readers, because they are widely repeated as fact. In 1926 a missionary, J. A. L. Singh, reported having recovered two girls, Amala and Kamala, from a wolf den in Bengal, and described them as behaving in wolf-like ways. The account was published, translated and cited for decades.

It has been substantially discredited. The French surgeon Serge Aroles, working from records, and other investigators have found the diary evidence inconsistent, the photographs staged, contemporaneous witnesses contradicting the account, and the children's condition better explained by severe congenital disability and neglect. Similar analyses have dismantled most historical feral-child claims.

The lesson for you as a student is exactly 1.4.6's: a story being famous, moving and endlessly repeated is not evidence. Ask what the records actually show and who checked.

Better evidence: the Romanian orphanage studies

There is a body of research that does what the feral cases cannot, and it should be your reference point instead.

After 1989, large numbers of children who had spent their early lives in severely under-stimulating Romanian institutions were adopted into families in Britain and elsewhere. Researchers — most notably the English and Romanian Adoptees (ERA) study led by Michael Rutter and colleagues, and the later Bucharest Early Intervention Project — followed them for decades.

Why this is better evidence: the numbers are substantial, there are comparison groups (children adopted domestically, and children who left the institutions at different ages), the follow-up is long, and the deprivation, while severe, was not accompanied by the individual torture that confounds the feral cases.

The broad findings, stated carefully:

Recovery is substantial and real. Many children showed dramatic catch-up in physical growth and cognitive functioning after adoption into ordinary families. Early deprivation is not a sentence.

Duration matters, and there appears to be a threshold. Children who left institutional care before roughly the first six months showed outcomes broadly comparable to non-deprived adoptees. Those who experienced more than about six months of severe deprivation showed a raised likelihood of persistent difficulties into adulthood — in attention, social relating and mental health — even after many years in good families.

And the effects are probabilistic, not universal. A raised likelihood is not a determination; a substantial proportion of the longer-deprived group did well.

That is a much more defensible evidence base than any anecdote, and it supports a sociologically important conclusion: early social environment has large, measurable, partly persistent effects — and human beings are considerably more repairable than the dramatic cases suggest.

Go deeper

The framing itself is wrong

"Nature versus nurture" implies two separable contributions that can be added. Almost nothing in human development works that way.

Gene–environment interaction. The effect of a genetic variant frequently depends on the environment, and vice versa. A predisposition may express itself under stress and not otherwise. So the question "how much is genetic?" has no context-free answer — it is like asking whether the area of a rectangle is due to its length or its width.

Gene–environment correlation. Environments are not randomly assigned. Parents supply both genes and upbringing; children with particular dispositions elicit particular responses and select particular niches. This makes the two extremely hard to disentangle even in principle, and it is why twin and adoption designs are cleverer than they look and still limited.

Developmental plasticity. The nervous system develops in response to input. There is no stage at which a finished biological human meets an environment; the environment is part of the construction.

And epigenetics — changes in gene expression influenced by environment — is often cited here, sometimes with more confidence than the evidence supports. The honest position: it is a real and active field, the evidence for stable transgenerational inheritance in humans is contested, and it should be used as a reason to reject simple genetic determinism, not as a slogan.

What sociology actually claims

Given all that, sociology's position is narrower and better supported than the popular "blank slate" caricature.

Human beings are obligately social. Not merely benefited by society — dependent on it for normal development. Language, self-awareness, moral reasoning and the capacity to take another's perspective do not appear without social input at the ordinary ages. This is the one thing the deprivation literature does support, and the Romanian evidence supports it with better method.

The capacity is biological; the content is social. Every typical human can acquire a language. Which language, and therefore which categories, distinctions and courtesies (2.1.5), is entirely social. The same holds for kinship, disgust, honour, gender and the self.

And the variation sociologists study is largely social variation. Nobody in sociology denies that individuals differ biologically. The claim is that differences between groups and across time — in literacy, mortality, occupation, aspiration, family form — move far too fast and vary far too much with arrangements to be explained by biology. Literacy in a population can go from ten to ninety per cent in two generations. Genes do not do that.

Why the argument is politically charged

You should know why this debate is not merely technical, because you will encounter it heated.

Claims that group differences in outcomes are biologically fixed have been used, repeatedly and across societies, to justify existing hierarchies: colonial rule, caste, slavery, the exclusion of women from education, immigration restriction, and sterilisation programmes. Each such claim has been asserted with confidence and has failed under examination — which is a strong prior, and also, note carefully, not by itself an argument (1.4.6 again: the badness of a claim's history is not evidence about its truth).

The correct posture is neither dismissal nor credulity. It is to hold biological claims about social outcomes to the same standard as any other: what exactly is the mechanism, what is the evidence, what would refute it, and — the question this lesson exists to teach — is the statistic being used to mean what it actually means?

And note that sociology has its own failure mode here, which 1.5.3 named: denying biology entirely, which is unnecessary and makes the discipline easier to dismiss. A sociology that engages the evidence seriously is far better placed to show why claims of innate group difference fail.

Why it matters

It establishes the necessity of socialisation — the premise the whole of Part 2 has been resting on, now argued rather than assumed. Human beings do not arrive finished. Something has to happen, and Topic 2.3 is about what.

It teaches you to read a statistic before believing it. Heritability is the case study, and the skill transfers to everything in Part 7: know what the number actually measures before you let it change your mind.

It gives you the right posture towards biology. Not denial, not deference — the same standards you would apply to any claim, plus a specific alertness to the heritability confusions that make weak claims look strong.

And it should leave you with a fact worth carrying: a human being deprived of society for eleven years could still learn thousands of words. Repair is real, it is partial, and it is more possible than the dramatic stories suggest.