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Does the adopted or fostered child’s identity require contact with birth parents? Abstract It is often assumed that acquaintance with birth parents is important for the identity of the child in a permanent placement (adoption or fostering). But how can there be confidence in the idea that such contact contributes to the construction of identity when there appears to be no explicit agreement about what identity is? I propose a definition of personal identity that avoids the mistakes in the definitions of identity offered by several specialists in the field of adoption and fostering. This definition shows that mere acquaintance with birth parents, indeed mere acquaintance with anyone, could not qualify as an ingredient of personal identity. Further understanding of the different kinds of belonging to a parent and the significance of family resemblances supports the conclusion that the current focus on identity for adopted or fostered children obscures the important questions about who matters and who should be cared about. Keywords: adoption, birth parents, contact, fostering, identity

Does the adopted or fostered child's identity require contact with birth parents?

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Does the adopted or fostered child’s identity require contact with birth parents?

Abstract

It is often assumed that acquaintance with birth parents is important for the identity

of the child in a permanent placement (adoption or fostering). But how can there be

confidence in the idea that such contact contributes to the construction of identity when

there appears to be no explicit agreement about what identity is? I propose a definition

of personal identity that avoids the mistakes in the definitions of identity offered by

several specialists in the field of adoption and fostering. This definition shows that mere

acquaintance with birth parents, indeed mere acquaintance with anyone, could not qualify

as an ingredient of personal identity. Further understanding of the different kinds of

belonging to a parent and the significance of family resemblances supports the

conclusion that the current focus on identity for adopted or fostered children obscures the

important questions about who matters and who should be cared about.

Keywords: adoption, birth parents, contact, fostering, identity

One of the most compelling reasons for initiating or maintaining contact between

a child in a permanent placement and the birth parents is that contact is important for the

child’s identity. That contact helps the child form a full identity which is vital for healthy

psychological development can be the clinching argument that persuades decision-makers

to arrange contact wherever safely possible and even when there are concerns about the

child’s reactions to contact.

It is an urgent question whether contact with birth parents benefits or harms a

child in a permanent placement (adoption or fostering), and we are naturally concerned

about the value of contact with parents who are responsible for abuse and neglect. If we

believe that acquaintance with birth parents serves the child’s identity, then we ought to

make sure that we know what we are talking about. Reaching a sound agreement on

contact for the sake of the child’s identity needs a shared understanding of identity, which

entails that there is a clear understanding of what identity is. But do we have the clarity

of understanding that would make a shared understanding of identity possible? If there is

no clear understanding of what identity is, then the prevalent conviction of decision-

makers that staying acquainted with birth parents maintains the child’s identity is

problematic.

I intend to show that the idea that a complete or coherent identity depends on

being acquainted with birth parents, which in fact discriminates against many adopted and

permanently fostered children, is wrong. First, I consider the contrasting views on how

contact promotes identity before examining the concept of identity itself. I argue for a

twofold definition of identity and conclude that contact with birth parents cannot establish

or enhance identity. What then emerges from considering the different kinds of

belonging there are to a parent and the significance of family resemblances is that the

importance given to identity for children in permanent placements is misleading and

tends to mask the fundamental questions about who matters and who should be cared

about.

Alternative views

If contact with birth parents contributes to the formation of identity, how should

we understand the link? There are two logical alternatives: contact makes either an

essential or a non-essential contribution to identity. Contact with birth parents is

therefore, broadly, either constitutive of identity, necessary for a fully-realised identity

because the biological tie with birth parents is an ineliminable part of the person’s

identity; or contact is not necessarily formative of identity, because the biological tie itself

is not a critical factor, but may be a helpful addition to identity formation. According to

the Constitutive View (CV), contact contributes to identity by fulfilling a basic

component, which, if disregarded, will leave the person in later life lacking what he

should have in order to achieve a well-developed identity. According to the Additive

View (AV), because contact is dispensable, the absence of contact does not diminish

identity, but rather its presence may produce positive effects on a growing identity.

It is one thing to define alternative views, it is another to identify professionals in

the field of adoption and fostering who endorse either CV or AV if they are not aware

that being committed to the idea that contact contributes to identity means being

committed to one or the other. However, when asked to reflect on contact and identity,

some professionals reveal unmistakably that they believe CV is correct. Harris &

Lindsey found a number of professionals who thought that “physical contact with birth

relatives ensured a sense of completeness of the self, which without ongoing contact

would be absent and could not be compensated for through further identity development

in a new relationship” and that “loss of connection with [the family of origin] was equal

to a loss of identity”.1 There are also some writers on contact whose remarks seem to

strongly suggest CV. Adams says: “Children will have a developing identity that

comprises aspects from their birth family as well as their new permanent family . . .

Ongoing contact arrangements allow an opportunity for the child to explore their history

and move towards a coherent narrative of the self”.2 He concludes that many children

who have not had the benefit of well-judged contact plans ‘feel they have missed out on a

shared history, a sense of identity and relationships [which] can leave them feeling

“incomplete”, sometimes into old age’.3 Bond says: “Young adopted children with no

memory of their birth relatives will need slow and careful preparation for contact.

Contact needs to be seen as part of an ongoing process which enables the child to develop

a sense of their identity”.4 Macaskill recommends that if all involved in contact receive

independent advice and support then contact can help children to “understand the trauma

they have suffered in their birth family . . . begin to make sense of their identity and move

forward into the future with a sense of hope and optimism”.5 Neil & Howe say that “a

permanent placement creates new relationships [but] it cannot entirely eradicate old

ones”, that “Post-placement contact between birth families and adoptive and foster

families is where the interconnectedness of all parties is made real” and that one of the

developmental benefits of contact is “achieving a clear and continuous identity”.6

In contrast, there are writers on contact who seem to support AV, who regard

contact as sometimes useful for identity formation. Harris & Lindsey, disagreeing with

those who hold that identity consists in membership of the family of origin, say that

“identity is not a static, historically based concept . . . it is a dynamic developing process,

formed within the context of ongoing relationships. The quality of these relationships

will be important in determining how children feel about themselves [and] this

contributes to a sense of self-esteem and self-worth. A positive sense of identity can only

be developed in a relationship that supports that identity. Contact will only facilitate this

if the birth parent is able to communicate to the child their capacity to remember, love

and be concerned for that child”.7 Brodzinsky says that openness in adoption includes a

willingness “to acknowledge and support the child’s dual connection to two families, and

perhaps to facilitate contact between these two family systems in one form or another” ;

but he believes that it is the communication between the adoptive parents and the adopted

child about adoption issues that is most important: “as parents begin to share adoption

information [so] children’s curiosity grows, and questions about their origins are raised,

requiring parents to talk about the children’s connection to their biological family. For

healthy adjustment to occur, this interactive, communicative process must remain open,

focus on the child’s evolving needs, and support a positive connection to the birth family

as well as a positive adoption identity”.8 Grotevant et al say: “Children thrive best when

the adults are able to have a civil, reasonable relationship with each other . . . The degree

of collaboration among the adults in the child’s adoption will serve as input to the process

of adoptive identity development, in that it has to do with the child’s primary

relationships and how those individuals think about and portray adoption to the child”.9

Von Korff & Grotevant, in their study of adolescents and young adults adopted as infants,

find that the frequency of adoption-related conversation in the adoptive family mediates

the association between contact and adoptive identity formation, and conclude with

cautious generality that “the effects of contact on identity may be due in part to the

conversations that adoptive parents have with their children about adoption”.10

Defective identity

As CV and AV are logically contrary positions, if either is correct then the other

cannot be. And, as we have seen, some writers who express an opinion on contact and

identity can be understood to support one or the other. But of course it is possible to be

confused and to make contradictory claims unwittingly. Neil & Howe, as evident in

statements quoted above, appear to advocate CV. Yet they also make a claim that is

definitely consistent with AV: “Even when no contact is planned or possible, children

may be able to successfully manage issues of identity and loss by other means, for

example, if they obtain relevant information about their birth family and can

communicate with their new parents freely about their background”.11 I think that what

may explain why they offer this qualification and so seem to be subscribing to opposing

views highlights a serious problem for those who accept CV.

While acknowledging that contact in some cases can be detrimental to the child’s

psychological development if it hinders placement stability and secure attachments 12,

Neil & Howe argue that the best situation for the child’s identity formation is one where

both sets of parents work well together. They present a picture of the harmonious

relations that birth parents and new parents should strive for, which may strike one as

naïve in downplaying the difficult issues, the complexity of feelings and the possibility of

pretence: 13

. . . ideally children need to integrate their two families with as little tension and

conflict as possible . . . The most helpful way to achieve this is for children to

experience their permanent carers and birth family members working together

amicably and collaboratively . . . For children to see and experience their two

families working together for their good, recognising their respect for each other

and their respective points of view, experiencing them getting along sends

children a powerful message: that they, too, can have good and positive feelings

for both sets of parents, both families . . . Their history is recognised; their birth

family is valued. Children who have a good sense of who they are and where they

are in life tend to feel secure, autobiographically complete and psychologically

whole.14

Neil & Howe strongly promote contact because children need to maintain “family

relationships and a coherent identity” by means of an unbroken or restored acquaintance

with birth parents, and they believe that the absence of contact “poses long-term

developmental risks around issues of loss and identity”.15 Furthermore, contact has to be

of the right kind – both sets of parents looking happy together – in order to forestall the

child’s identity having a negative component. When good feelings about the birth parents

are absent, the question arises: “What will a child think about herself?”.16 Their position

amounts to this: when contact does not occur or when it is less than optimal, the child is

left with an impediment in identity formation, an impediment which cannot be removed,

although its effects can be mitigated by open communication with “sensitive and mind-

minded” parents.17

Now the problem that arises for the proponents of CV is not hard to see. The

conviction that contact with birth parents is necessary for a continuous and complete

identity implies that, as the removal from birth parents causes a rupture in identity

formation, the children in permanent placements who have no contact will have

irrevocably incomplete or incoherent identities. To have an incomplete or incoherent

identity is to have a defective identity. And what naturally follows is serious: to have a

defective identity is to be a defective person.18 Who would not be disquieted by the idea

that the absence of contact makes a person defective? Whether or not consciously

intended by Neil & Howe in reaction to a sense of unease, their AV-consistent

qualification that children can “manage issues of identity and loss by other means” seems

to have the consoling function of attempting to avert the troubling consequence of the

idea that a complete and coherent identity requires contact.

How might those who hold CV deal with the problem of defective identity? One

way would be to insist that, unfortunately, that is the way things are, but sound the alarm

and, like Neil & Howe, try to persuade all those involved to make every effort to establish

contact with birth parents wherever possible in order to minimise the number of children

affected by the lack of contact. Another way would be to doubt the validity of CV just

because it implies that any person who has not had continuing acquaintance with birth

parents during his formative years is defective. Is it plausible that a person is rendered

defective just because, for example, his birth parents died when he was an infant? Such

considerations should undermine a commitment to CV, and suggest that AV would be the

acceptable alternative. But changing sides is not a simple matter because CV and AV are

based on incompatible ideas of identity and identity formation. That is, in order to reject

CV we need to establish that acquaintance with birth parents is not necessary for identity,

and in order to accept AV we need to show how contact can add something of particular

value to identity formation.

Arguments for AV

It is of real importance to find sound reasons to reject CV because it implies a

disparagement of those who grow up without being acquainted with birth parents. The

discussions by the philosophers – and adoptive mothers – Witt19 and Haslanger20 are

instructive. In effect, they argue that CV is mistaken and maintain that contact may still

contribute to personal identity (AV).

Witt challenges the widely held view that “in ideal families the children are

biologically, genetically, related to their parents”, a view that involves not only “the role

and superiority of biology in determining parenthood” but also “the role of biology in

constituting personal identity”.21 She points out that this belief in genetic essentialism,

i.e., “a person’s identity is determined by his or her genetic endowment”, implies that

adopted children without contact with birth parents must suffer a defective identity.22

But, as she argues, genetic essentialism with its concerning implication is wrong because

“to be a person requires self-understanding . . . and self-understanding requires achieving

understanding of oneself in a particular context and set of relations”.23 She explains that

“personal identity, because it requires some degree of self-understanding, is not directly

and simply constituted by any of our properties, whether they are necessary and genetic,

or contingent and social” and that the properties that are “most important to a person’s

self-understanding can vary from person to person”.24 She allows that in order to create a

narrative of the self, the adopted child “may well require knowledge of biological or

genetic origins (as far as these are available)” .25 Moreover: “The issue of family

resemblances raises [a] complex question of personal identity for an adopted child, which

is how to relate to and understand her biological family of origin, some of whose

members she undoubtedly resembles. Curiosity about family resemblances might propel

a child to want contact with her birth family as part of the development of her sense of

self”.26 (More about family resemblances later.)

Witt contends that “to be a person requires self-understanding”27, but then seems

to assume that that is sufficient to make self-understanding a requirement of personal

identity. But does identity include self-understanding? As understanding can be correct

or mistaken, so self-understanding can be correct or mistaken. If personal identity

consists in self-understanding which can be correct or mistaken then it follows that a

person’s identity will thereby be correct or mistaken. But this is odd. While it makes

sense to say that a person can be correct or mistaken about his identity, it doesn’t make

sense to say that his identity itself is correct or mistaken. Thus identity cannot include

self-understanding. And so even if contact were to improve self-understanding, that fact

would have no effect on identity.

Haslanger takes issue with Velleman who strongly advocates CV. Velleman

claims that “knowing one’s relatives and especially one’s parents provides a kind of self-

knowledge that is of irreplaceable value in the life task of identity formation . . . Not

knowing any biological relatives must be like wandering in a world without reflective

surfaces, permanently self-blind”.28 For Haslanger, this “emphasis on biological parents

and siblings is highly exaggerated. We all rely on many sources in our development of

self-understanding, including friends, characters in literature and film, public figures, and

in cases where biological kin are missing, custodial family members”.29 She challenges

the dominant cultural schema of the natural nuclear family that he accepts30, and

concludes that “if we are to avoid harming our children, then rather than enshrining a

schema that most families fail to exemplify and which is used to stigmatize and alienate

families that are (yes!) as good as their biological counterparts, we should instead make

every effort to disrupt the hegemony of the schema”.31

Haslanger does however think that contact can in some cases promote a healthy

identity. In her view, a healthy identity does not require contact or “specific knowledge”

of birth relatives but that because of the dominance of the “natural nuclear family schema,

it is reasonable to provide children with information about or contact with their biological

relations, if and when this becomes an issue in their forming a healthy identity”.32 But

what is a healthy identity? Perhaps a healthy identity is one that is self-enhancing or

socially beneficial and an unhealthy identity is one that is self-damaging or socially

destructive. Or it may also be, as Haslanger suggests, an identity that involves “basic

knowledge of origins . . . that can anchor a meaningful life narrative, and cultural

categories and narratives that are non-oppressive”.33 Haslanger apparently regards the

social stigma of being adopted as possibly contributing to the formation of an unhealthy

identity if it leads to feelings of inferiority, and that contact may diminish the stigma of

being adopted by providing the child with “answers to questions that matter culturally”.34

So, if I understand her correctly, she thinks that a healthy identity at least involves feeling

good about oneself. But this does not seem right. Consider some examples. The mafioso

or the paedophile, despite having an unhealthy, deviant identity, may have high self-

esteem; and the anti-poverty activist or the international aid worker, despite having a

healthy, beneficent identity, may not feel entirely good about himself because his

dedicated work is never enough. And it is hard to see how contact itself could diminish

the felt stigmatic effect of being adopted and not simply confirm or even exacerbate it.

Nevertheless, if contact really does improve a child’s self-esteem then that is a good

thing, but not a possibly good thing, as I will argue, that makes any difference to identity.

In sum, the laudable attempts by Witt and Haslanger to refute the idea that the

child who lacks contact with birth parents has a defective identity are not conclusive

because each makes a claim about identity that is not convincing. Their arguments for

rejecting CV and accepting AV rely on attributing either self-understanding or self-

esteem to personal identity. But their arguments fail because there are reasons to believe

that neither is a feature of identity. If we are to make headway, I believe we have to think

more carefully about the concept of identity itself.

Some definitions of identity

I have been able to find only a few specialists in the field of fostering and

adoption who have attempted to define identity in order to understand what particular

difficulties children in permanent placements are faced with. Let’s consider each

definition:

(a) Personal identity is the result of multiple psychological, social and cultural

influences which combine towards the building of an integrated and unified self.

By personal identity I mean the kind of consciousness we all carry about – “who”

we are and the kind of self-image we have of ourselves. Depending on its quality

and strength, the sense of self gives us a feeling of separateness from others,

distinguishing us from our environment, whilst at the same time enabling us to enter

into daily interactions and relationships with a degree of confidence . . . three areas .

. . which are said to make a big contribution to identity building [are]: (i) a

childhood experience of feeling wanted and loved within a secure environment; (ii)

knowledge about one’s background and personal history; and (iii) the experience of

being perceived by others as a worthwhile person.35

(b) At its most basic, identity is about what we feel about ourselves and how we

think other people see us. How individuals experience and explain themselves and

how they are perceived by the wider society are abstract qualities and therefore

difficult to define. The ultimate aim, though, of the processes described so far [1.

Re-attachment to new parent(s). 2. Integrating in the developing self the knowledge

of being adopted] is that their positive resolution will contribute to the formation of

a strong identity with an increased sense of self worth. [Writers on identity have

suggested that identity is] a self-structure – an internal, self-constructed, dynamic

organisation of drives, abilities, beliefs and individual history . . . [and] ‘a sense of

psychological well-being, a feeling of being at home in one’s body, of knowing

where one is going, an inner assuredness of anticipated recognition from those who

count’ . . . [and some have put forward] the idea of a plural, rather than a single,

identity . . . instead of a single identity, the self is made up of a number of them

such as personal, social, physical, genealogical, racial or ethnic. . . [all of which]

must add up to a coherent whole.36

(c) There are twin aspects to identity. One is how we understand at a cognitive

level who we are (often called self-concept). The other is how we feel about this

self-understanding, which is where the term self-esteem fits in. Though we can

distinguish these two key aspects of identity it is not useful to see them as discrete.

They exist in a dynamic and reflexive relationship, within a social environment.

Self-concept will depend critically on the amount of information that we have about

ourselves, which for those who are adopted will include the amount of information

that is available concerning their original families and background. Where self-

esteem is high, discordant messages can generally be shrugged off or

accommodated. However when messages that conflict significantly with self-

concept persist these are a challenge to self-esteem and may make the achievement

of a satisfying personal identity difficult.37

(d) . . . we have identified three aspects of identity that are particularly

important . . . First, identity refers to self-definition, the set of characteristics by

which one identifies oneself and by which individuals are recognised by others

within a particular social and historical context. Second, it refers to the person’s

subjective sense of coherence of personality or how the various aspects of one’s

identity fit together. Third, identity refers to one’s sense of continuity over time,

linking past, present and future and, across place, linking multiple contexts and

relationships . . . Identity connects personality, subjective awareness, relationships,

and external context. Thus, the essence of identity is self-in-context.38

Reading these definitions together may well produce more confusion than clarity. But do

any of them provide what we need? A definition of personal identity should be neither

vague nor diffuse. It should not leave out anything crucial nor should it include just about

anything that can be said about the person – there has to be a limit to the characteristics of

the person that pertain to personal identity. I think that any difficulty in understanding

definitions (a) – (d) is due to the indefinite scope of “self-image” and “self-concept” as

well as to the attempt to make identity comprehensive: because identity is important the

authors of these definitions seem to feel that it must encompass as much as possible, as if

importance were a matter of size.

Self-esteem is often taken to be a feature of identity, which is indicated in the

some of the definitions above. As I have already argued when discussing Haslanger, this

is a mistake, but there is more to consider. Self-esteem is a mental state that consists in

thinking and feeling good about oneself, feeling either one is a good person or good at

something or simply good at looking good. But specific feelings of confidence,

competence or self-worth can change rapidly and frequently and can vary in intensity. If

someone feels good about himself – confident and optimistic – on Monday but then bad

about himself – discouraged and pessimistic – on Wednesday, it would not make sense to

infer that his identity changed in two days just because his self-esteem did. Moreover,

when we say that someone has either excessively high or excessively low self-esteem, we

imply that such self-esteem is unwarranted by how the person is, or what the person has

done or could do. So, definitions (a), (b) and (c) are flawed because they claim that how

one feels about oneself forms part of identity.

Definition (d) makes a different mistake by confusing personal identity with being

a person. The capacity to find meaning and gain self-understanding is an aspect of being

a person rather than a feature of personal identity. Similarly, it is not identity as such but

indeed the person that is a “self-in-context”, however we construe that notion. It is a

truism that every person has a personality and that personalities vary considerably from

person to person. But identity does not include all of an individual’s characteristics and

personal style. And not everything that identifies an individual is a function of identity.

The police officer’s uniform, the Sikh’s turban, the Muslim’s hijab and the Goth’s black

clothing demonstrate identity, but wearing trainers most days because they are

comfortable footwear does not have to indicate more than that. It would be very strange

to accept that merely liking chocolate or preferring red wine to white was an aspect of a

person’s identity. And it would be ridiculous to infer that the change from being a fan of

British costume dramas on TV to avidly watching Scandinavian crime series was

tantamount to a change in the person’s identity. But it would be hard to doubt that

someone’s increasing concern about global warming that leads to a critical study of the

scientific evidence, to an involving membership of a national environmental protection

organisation and to a sustained participation in the activities of a local volunteer group

amounted to a new identity. So it is certainly the case that some personal characteristics

are a function of my identity such that a change in them is a change that affects my

identity. But it is also the case that some of my preferences and habits are not related to

my identity, for if any of them change my identity remains the same.

These definitions make the general point that identity is more than one thing,

which seems to accord with what we are inclined to think about identity. However, as

definitions they are all unsatisfactory and also unhelpful inasmuch as they do not seem to

provide the means to resolve the outstanding problem presented by the opposition

between CV and AV, which is to determine the place that personal relationships have in

identity and identity formation. We need a clear definition of identity that properly

captures its complexity.

Identity as twofold

I think that a promising starting point for a definition is provided by a simple

observation: a person has an identity both by being a separate individual and by

belonging to a group or groups. So one aspect of personal identity is that which

distinguishes a particular person from all other persons, identifying him as the unique

human being he is; and the other aspect of personal identity is that which defines the life

he leads, involving the social affiliations that shape his attitudes and activities. Thus, as I

want to argue, a person’s identity is twofold, both singular and associative.39

Identity as singular. Determining a person’s identity usually involves taking account of

certain facts that pick out the person uniquely as one among many. And when we talk

about someone’s identity we sometimes just mention the facts that identify an individual

person. A person’s name, date and place of birth, parents’ names, sex, race, nationality,

DNA, marital status are facts that often define that person’s identity for certain purposes.

Knowing these facts certainly forms part of knowing who one is. We expect children to

begin to acquire knowledge of their identity in this sense as soon as they are old enough,

and we normally expect that people can give an account of their lives, of how they got to

where they are now, i.e., where they have lived, who raised them, the significant

relationships they have had (e.g. partners, relatives, friends), the schools they have

attended, the jobs they have had, and so on. Being in possession of the basic facts or

providing supporting evidence is enough to satisfy many demands to establish who one

is, and often giving only one’s name is enough to prove one’s identity. It is the kind of

identity we mean when we say that someone’s identity has been stolen and used for

fraudulent purposes; and it is the primary identity that we say a person can lose

knowledge of when he has a certain form of amnesia. Now there are some facts about a

person, e.g., being male, being able-bodied, that are an intrinsic part of his identity

because they make up the particular human being he is. But there are other identifying

facts about a person, e.g., where he was on a certain day, the number of people in his

social circle, which are extrinsic and therefore not part of his identity. That is why to

have both legs amputated changes one’s identity, but to lose two friends does not.

Identity as associative. Determining a person’s identity also involves making explicit

the interests, principles, values, and ideals according to which he leads his life, and so

naming the social categories to which he belongs .40 Examples of social categories that

constitute identity are: having a sexual orientation, having an ethnic, cultural or national

allegiance, living according to religious tenets or none, being a farmer, tradesman,

political activist, homemaker, scientist, educator, conservationist, athlete, soldier,

businesswoman, artist. According to Williams: “An identity in this sense is something

that a person has individually, but it is something that is essentially shared: it is a group

identity . . . People who think of themselves in such terms think of their affiliation, their

relations to the group, as representing in some sense what they really are, and they might

indeed say what they essentially are”.41 He points out that this shared identity is not

created by my simply deciding to belong to a social category, but the belonging is also to

a degree a function of something I discover about myself, which I feel I essentially am.

As this identity develops, as it is cultivated, so it shapes one’s life: “To form an identity,

the social category has to be rich enough to permeate and affect many of the most

important aspects of life – at the limit, to form the structure of a whole way of life”.42 A

social category then will form part of a person’s identity to the extent that it gives rise to,

affects and explains the person’s thoughts, feelings and activities. And just as the things

one values vary in intensity and importance so the social categories to which one belongs

will vary more or less as defining aspects of one’s identity.43 Nevertheless, not every

group to which a person belongs will form part of his identity, for groups in which he

participates can be temporary, casual or shallow.44

As identity is both singular and associative so a specific question about my

identity will be answered differently depending on the context. Sometimes the question

will be answered satisfactorily either by referring to any of the facts that uniquely identify

me, that pick me out from the crowd, that prove I am who I say I am, or by describing my

interests, values and activities relating to a social category (or the categories) to which I

belong. At other times the question will be answered best by my providing both sorts of

information together as in, for example, a job interview.

Singular identity and associative identity come about in different ways. Whereas

singular identity is there from the start, from birth, associative identity develops only

later, emerging in adolescence and normally formed and settled, but not rigidly, in

adulthood. And as associative identity develops so it includes preferences, values and

interests that will affect one’s attitude to aspects of singular identity. Indeed some social

categories that inform associative identity are continuous with social categories that are

present from the beginning. Although sex, race, nationality and (often) religion are

primary “givens” in identity, 45 the person has to embrace them if they are to form the

relevant defining social categories in associative identity. Of course they may not always

be embraced and they are not all immutable features of identity. A person cannot change

the fact that he was born in a certain country but he could renounce his nationality or

indeed lose it. He cannot change the fact that he was born male but he could by a process

of gender reassignment become a woman. He cannot change the fact that he was raised

in a particular faith but it is possible that he could adopt another or become an atheist. It

seems that the connections between singular identity and associative identity are variable

and complex. And as associative identity develops the primary social categories will be

accepted or altered in one way or another.

Persons and identity

Now that we have the definition of identity as both singular and associative we can

try to clarify how people and relationships bear on identity by considering three aspects.

First, a salient identifying fact about a person is the biological tie with those who

brought him into the world. As there is a general expectation that a person knows who his

birth parents are, anyone who lacks knowledge of his biological roots (in our culture) is

disadvantaged and may be stigmatised.46 But where does the deficiency lie? The person

who does not know the identity of one or both of his birth parents does not know some facts

about his singular identity but, although his knowledge is deficient, his identity cannot be. It

makes no sense to say that a person’s singular identity is either defective or well-formed.

Second, personal relationships can play a large, even indispensable, part in the

development of identity, but it is not the biological tie as such that makes the difference.

Taylor observes that “our identities are formed in dialogue with others, in agreement or

struggle with their recognition of us”.47 That is, it is our associative identities that are

shaped through personal relationships as we come to establish our commitments and values

that are manifested in the social categories by which we lead our lives. Some relationships

may influence the associative identity a person forms and certain relationships will be made

as a result of the associative identity a person forms. A relationship that is close, that has a

commitment of intimacy, or a relationship upon which one is dependent, is of course

undeniably important to the person who has it; but not everything that is important to the

person defines identity. While such relationships are a critical factor in the creation and

perhaps the maintaining of an associative identity, they are not by virtue of that fact a part of

identity itself.

Third, it is notable that persons may figure in associative identity. For example: the

Christian whose life is governed by contemplation of the life of Jesus; the enthusiastic

devotee (e.g., the fan of Elvis or Michael Jackson) who has an imitative fascination with the

public image, the attitudinal style, of a famous person; the civil rights activist who finds

support and constant inspiration in the words and life of prominent leaders (e.g., Martin

Luther King, Nelson Mandela); the music lover or the bookworm, the Wagnerian or the

Dickensian, whose enduring passion for the works of the composer or the novelist compels a

further preoccupation with the personality and life of the artist; the parent whose devotion to

his children amounts to an identification with them, perhaps living vicariously through

them; the dedicated full-time carer of a loved one in need of constant support. There are

many differences among these but what they have in common is that the person who “fills”

one’s life does so as a function of a set of principles, values and aims that form a social

category. It is the social category that has primacy in associative identity.

Belonging

Having considered the ways in which persons and personal relationships are relevant

to identity, we have arrived at the conclusion that a person or personal relationship does not

of itself form identity. And it follows that mere acquaintance with birth parents cannot

contribute to identity. But one might immediately object that this conclusion is not

compatible with the idea that a child, no matter by whom he is reared, still belongs to, and

thereby derives identity from, the birth family. Some advocates of contact take it for

granted that as the child in a permanent placement is a member of two families he should be

acquainted with birth parents as much as is reasonable and safely possible – after all, being a

member of a group normally means participating in the group. Schofield & Beek say that

children, especially those who are “late placed”, have to “think through and accept the

membership of two families” and that contact “holds the potential to assist children in

managing their dual family identities”.48 Bond says: ‘The notion that children need a “clean

break” with their past has been replaced with an awareness that “openness” towards the

concept of children being part of two families is beneficial to children’s welfare,

development and sense of identity’.49 While acknowledging that birth parents have to adjust

to being neither the legal nor the psychological parent to the adopted child, Neil et al

maintain that the adopted child is a member of two families and that “it is healthiest for the

child if both adoptive parents and birth parents can recognise and support the child’s

membership of both families”.50

As the kind of belonging the adopted child has to the birth family is neither legal nor

psychological (i.e. not being reared by them) but only biological, it is pertinent to ask what it

means to support the child’s membership of two families. If it doesn’t mean that the

biological tie itself provides sufficient reason for the promotion of a continuing acquaintance

with birth parents (assuming that contact is safe and reasonable), then perhaps more is

contained in the claim that the child has “dual family identities” than is conveyed by the

external description of belonging as legal, biological, and psychological (being reared by).

What seems to give the claim its particular force is the implied reference to the internal state

of the child, that is, the feelings the child should have about where and to whom he belongs.

And the unspoken reasoning may go something like this: the child has a biological tie to the

birth parents; the birth parents are therefore important to the child as a source of identity;

and so the child must have a sense of belonging to them. But is the sense of belonging

determined by the biological tie? Rather, what we do know is that the sense of belonging

that adopted persons have to the birth family (if they have it at all) varies between

individuals and may well vary in an individual over time. And we cannot ignore the fact

that it is not so very rare for a person to disown biological kin for a time or permanently.

Family resemblance

There are largely unavoidable questions about, and experiences of, family

resemblance. Doesn’t the experience of family resemblance tend to make concrete the

feeling of belonging and identity? Velleman goes so far to contend that family

resemblances are virtually indispensable not only for self-knowledge but also for providing

guidance, positive or negative, for becoming and defining the sort of person one is.51

However, as Haslanger and Witt argue, his position on family resemblances is not

persuasive because it gives too much prominence to inherited commonalities and because

family resemblances need not have a biological basis. Haslanger points out that biological

parents are often only one influential source for development among many and that

“judgments of similarity” are not always reliable: “Myths of commonality run rampant in

families”.52 Witt believes that family resemblances, contrary to the dominant biological

view, do not all have a genetic basis – some are transmitted through the genes but others are

transmitted through family relationships – and that “family resemblances which are heritable

via the gene are just one ingredient in a child’s self-understanding; many important family

resemblances are passed on in other ways”.53

Witt claims that family resemblances pose a problem of identity for the adopted

child, that is, working out “how to relate to and understand” the birth family.54 Relating to

and understanding the birth family may be a problem for the adopted child but I do not agree

that it is a problem of identity. Still, I do think that family resemblances have something to

do with assessment and self-esteem. The significance a family resemblance has for the

person carrying the resemblance greatly depends upon how he views the person he takes

after. That is, the attitude to the resemblance will often reflect the attitude, whether

favourable or unfavourable, to the person resembled. There is a huge difference between

taking after a family member one loves or admires and taking after a family member one

dislikes or despises. For a person to welcome a family resemblance – genetically based or

otherwise – normally implies, to some degree, a positive attitude towards the person he

resembles. Similarly, a family resemblance may be found intolerable because the

resemblance is to a family member one finds acutely disagreeable. And the realisation that

one resembles in some respect a family member one recoils from would likely compel one

to try to alter or minimise the resemblance. A child’s need to find out who he looks like or

resembles in other ways is a function of the need to know what to think and feel about

himself, whether to be pleased with or find merit in some particular characteristics, and

whether those characteristics are pleasing to those he wants to please.

Caring

When considering family resemblance, the crucial thing to keep in mind is that for

all of us what affects the significance of relationships and belonging to a family is the

inescapable problem of assessing what kind of people the family members are, the kind of

relationship one has with them, whether they ought to be cared about and, if they should be

cared about, how much should they be cared about. It is undeniable that my birth parents

are important to me just because I would not exist without them. That is one kind of

importance, and it may be the kind of importance that may matter to me a lot or not at all. It

is natural to assume that the child who has parents who are at least good enough will love

them and, as he loves them, will care about them to the extent that his level of maturity

allows. But should the child who has been adopted or permanently fostered because of

severe maltreatment by birth parents care about them? Perhaps birth parents may be cared

about to some degree just because they brought one into the world but, equally, they may

not be cared about at all – and there may be good reasons why caring about them is minimal

or absent. Whether birth parents are worth caring about is a problem for the child in a

permanent placement whose birth parents are responsible for severe abuse and neglect, a

problem made even more difficult in the face of the pressing cultural expectations about

caring for one’s biological kin.

Caring permeates our lives just as belonging and the feeling of belonging do.

Frankfurt makes the point that the question of what to care about is a “fundamental

preoccupation of human existence”.55 It is plainly the case that personal relationships are

among the things that matter to us most, the things that we most care about. Undoubtedly,

the prospect and the achievement of mutually caring relationships, and of an especially

intimate personal relationship, is a basic preoccupation. The claim that, if possible and safe

etc., the child should have a continuing acquaintance with birth parents and family because

he is a member of two families or has a dual family identity begs essential questions that are

perhaps seldom made explicit: Who matters to me, and how much do they matter?, Who do

I care about?, If I do care about them, should I care about them?, And if so, how much

should I care? Who matters and who to care about are questions at the heart of growing up,

and judging with whom one can have or should have a mutually caring relationship involves

a process of discerning who is worthwhile. These are questions whose answers are always

subject to revision. Ascribing a dual family identity to a child wrongly implies that the

questions need not arise because their answers are settled.

Conclusion

I have argued that the identity of the adopted or permanently fostered child does not

require contact with birth parents because identity neither consists in personal relationships

per se nor is improved by mere personal acquaintance, regardless of a biological link. The

definition of identity as twofold, singular and associative, shows that the alternative views

on how contact contributes to identity, as either essential (CV) or additive (AV), are wrong.

It is therefore also a mistake to posit adoptive identity as a distinct kind of personal identity,

a mistake compounded by some leading researchers who maintain that adoptive identity can

be divided into subgroups or patterns.56 This mistake seems to issue from first using

“adoptive identity” as shorthand for the adopted person’s attitudes to being adopted, to the

birth family and to the adoptive family.

We should not arrange contact for the sake of the child’s identity, although it may of

course serve other purposes, provided we appreciate the risk of secondary harm when

contact is mendacious.57 A single face-to-face meeting or a few may be effective in

satisfying an acute curiosity about birth parents. And in some cases one or more meetings,

properly prepared for and professionally conducted, involving the birth parent’s sincere

acknowledgement of maltreatment, can provide the opportunity for reparative work that aids

the child’s development.58

Contact does not always have to promote a relationship with one birth relative or

another, for limited contact can sometimes be effective in helping to wean a child, carefully

and sensitively, from a relationship, or it can retain a link that may be useful in later years.

But we need to be aware that, the apparent wish to know what the birth parents are really

like may flow from wondering about how one’s life would have turned out if the birth

parents and their circumstances had been different in one way or another. This wondering

points to the consideration that should be relevant in many decisions about contact.

That is, the adopted or permanently fostered child who has been compulsorily

removed from birth parents often needs help to come to terms with the experience of early

trauma, abuse and neglect. Accordingly, if possible, the child or young person should be

closely guided and supported in the difficult and often painful process of exploring the early

history of maltreatment in detail and helped to gain adequate knowledge of the character and

behaviour of birth parents so as to arrive eventually at a reasoned assessment of them as

parents, as persons. Such an assessment will naturally and indispensably inform the task of

determining whether birth parents should be cared about at all, and if they should be cared

about, how much they should be cared about.

The practice of arranging contact with birth parents, birth siblings and other relatives

for the sake of the child’s identity is undermined by the prevalent errors and confusions

about identity. The idea that relationships based on the biological tie must have a particular

significance for the child’s identity is mistaken. The vital concerns of who should be cared

about and who really matters are persistent, open and not fixed by the biological tie itself.

Notes

1. R. Harris & C. Lindsey, ‘How professionals think about contact between children

and their birth parents’, Clinical Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 7, 2 (2002): 147-

161, p. 152.

2. P. Adams, Planning for contact in permanent placements (London: BAAF, 2012),

p. 12.

3. Ibid p. 65.

4. H. Bond, 10 top tips for managing contact (London: BAAF, 2007), p. 34.

5. C. Macaskill, Safe contact?: Children in permanent placement and contact with their

birth relatives. Lyme Regis: Russell House Publishing, 2002, p. 145.

6. E. Neil, E. & D. Howe (eds.), Contact in adoption and permanent foster care:

Research, theory and practice, (London: BAAF, 2004), p. 1 & p. 229.

7. Harris & Lindsay op. cit. p. 153.

8. D. Brodzinsky, ‘Reconceptualizing openness in adoption: Implications for theory,

research, and practice’ in D. Brodzinsky & J. Palacios (eds.), Psychological issues in

adoption: Research and practice, (Westport, Connecticut and London: Praeger,

2005), pp. 149, 152.

9. H. Grotevant, N. Dunbar, J. Kohler & A. Lash Esau, ‘Adoptive identity: How

contexts within and beyond the family shape developmental pathways’ in R. Javier,

A. Baden, F. Biafora & A. Camacho-Gingerich Handbook of adoption: Implications

for researchers, practitioners and families, (Thousand Oaks: Sage, 2007), p. 84.

10. L. Von Korff & H. Grotevant, ‘Contact in adoption and adoptive identity formation:

The mediating role of family conversation’, Journal of Family Psychology, 25, 3

(2011): 393-401, p. 399.

11. Neil & Howe op.cit. p. 242.

12. Ibid p. 224.

13. Cf. A. L. Allen, ‘Open adoption is not for everyone’ in S. Haslanger & C. Witt

(eds.) Adoption matters: Philosophical and feminist essays, (Ithaca and London:

Cornell University Press, 2005), pp. 47-67.

14. Neil & Howe op.cit. pp. 237-8.

15. Ibid pp. 229, 237

16. Ibid p. 252.

17. Ibid p. 239.

18. Cf. C. Witt, ‘Family resemblances: Adoption, personal identity, and genetic

essentialism’ in S. Haslanger, S. & C. Witt (eds.) op. cit. pp. 135-145.

19. Ibid

20. S. Haslanger, ‘Family, ancestry and self: What is the moral significance of

biological ties?’, Adoption & Culture, 2, 1 (2009): 91-122.

21. Witt op. cit. pp. 135, 137.

22. Ibid p. 137.

23. Ibid p. 138.

24. Ibid p. 141.

25. Ibid p. 141.

26. Ibid p. 143.

27. Ibid p. 138.

28. J. D. Velleman, ‘Family history’, Philosophical Papers, 34, 3 (2005): 357-78, pp.

357, 368.

29. Haslanger op. cit. pp. 102-3.

30. Velleman admits to endorsing the view that: “First comes love, then comes

marriage, and then the proverbial baby carriage.” op. cit. p. 370.

31. Haslanger op. cit. p. 115.

32. Ibid pp. 114-5.

33. Ibid p. 101.

34. Ibid p. 113.

35. J.Triseliotis, ‘Identity and security in adoption and long-term fostering’, Early Child

Development and Care, 15 (1984): 149-170, p. 151.

36. J. Triseliotis, ‘Identity-formation and the adopted person revisited’ in A. Treacher,

& I. Katz, The dynamics of adoption, (London: Jessica Kingsley Publishers, 2000),

pp. 82, 89-90.

37. M. Ryburn, ‘Adopted children’s identity and information needs’, Children &

Society, 9, 3 (1995): 41-64, p. 41.

38. H. Grotevant, n. Dunbar, j. Kohler, & a. Lash Esau, ‘Adoptive identity: How

contexts within and beyond the family shape developmental pathways’, in

R.Javier, A. Baden, F. Biafora. & A. Camacho-Gingerich, Handbook of adoption:

Implications for researchers, practitioners and families, (Thousand Oaks: Sage,

2007), p. 79. There is an earlier version in: H. Grotevant, ‘Coming to terms with

adoption: The construction of identity from adolescence into adulthood’, Adoption

Quarterly, 1, 1 (1997): 3-27, p. 5.

39. My aim is to describe our ordinary concept of identity, and to provide a definition

that professionals in the field of adoption and fostering would find convincing and

helpful. For a summary of the varied philosophical attempts to arrive at a

definition that would be immune to all possible objections, see: Eric T. Olson,

‘Personal Identity’, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Spring 2016),

Edward N. Zalta (ed.), URL = <http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2016/entries/identity-personal/>.

40. M. Hogg & D. Abrams, Social identifications: A social psychology of intergroup

relations and group processes, (London: Routledge, 1988)

41. B. Williams, Truth and truthfulness: An essay in genealogy. (New Jersey: Princeton

University Press, 2002), p. 201.

42. Ibid p.202.

43. B. Williams, ‘Identity and identities’, in B. Williams, Philosophy as a humanistic

discipline, A. W. Moore (ed.), (Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press,

2006), p. 63.

44. Pace M. Hogg & D. Abrams op. cit. p. 2.

45. H. Grotevant, ‘Coming to terms with adoption: The construction of identity from

adolescence into adulthood’, Adoption Quarterly, 1, 1: 3-27, 1997.

46. Haslanger op. cit. p. 113.

47. C. Taylor, The ethics of authenticity, (Cambridge: Harvard University Press,

1991), pp. 45-6.

48. G. Schofield & M. Beek, Attachment handbook for foster care and adoption,

(London: BAAF, 2006), p. 394.

49. Bond op. cit. pp. 5-6.

50. Neil op. cit. p. 107. They are in agreement with Brodzinsky op. cit.

51. Velleman op. cit. pp. 377-78.

52. Haslanger op. cit. p. 103.

53. Witt op. cit. p. 143.

54. Ibid.

55. H. G. Frankfurt, The importance of what we care about: Philosophical essays,

(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988), p. 80.

56. Grotevant et al op. cit. Also: E. Neil, M. Beek, & E. Ward, Contact after adoption:

A follow up in late adolescence, http://www.nuffieldfoundation.org/contact-after-

adoption-longitudinal-follow-late-adolescence, 2013.

57. L. Loxterkamp, ‘Contact and truth: The unfolding predicament in adoption and

fostering’, Clinical Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 14, 3: 423-35, 2009.

58. L. Sydney, E. Price & Adoptionplus, Facilitating meaningful contact in adoption

and fostering: A trauma-informed approach to planning, assessing and good

practice, (London and Philadelphia: Jessica Kingsley Publishers, 2014)