Nature's parenting awards

Dr Debapriya Mukherjee *

One early morning in my village, Moutorh, in Purulia district, I was searching for ripe mangoes in my garden. As I walked beneath the mango trees, a small bird caught my attention. It flew tirelessly between a nearby bush and its nest, each journey rewarded with a tiny insect clasped in its beak. The hungry chicks stretched their necks, their mouths wide open, and the parent patiently fed each one before disappearing once again into the morning light.

A little later, outside the garden, another scene unfolded. A stray village dog lay quietly with her litter of puppies. She had sensed my footsteps long before I noticed her.

She neither barked nor attacked. Instead, she gently drew the puppies closer to her body and watched me with calm but unmistakable vigilance until I had passed. Protecting her young mattered more than resting after a long night in search of food.

There was no applause, no audience and no expectation of reward—only an unwavering commitment to the next generation. Watching these ordinary village scenes reminded me of countless examples of parental care I had witnessed during my travels through forests, rivers, lakes and mountains in India and abroad.

Later, as I explored the scientific literature, I found that biologists define parental care simply as any behaviour that increases the survival and future success of offspring at a cost to the parent. Nature has been refining this strategy for millions of years.

That thought inspired a playful question. If Mother Nature organised her own annual award ceremony, who would receive the trophies?

The first standing ovation would surely go to the Emperor Penguin Father. While many of us complain about waiting in a queue for twenty minutes, he balances a single egg on his feet through the Antarctic winter for nearly two months without food, shielding it from freezing temperatures.

The Father of the Year Award would belong to the seahorse. In one of nature's most remarkable role reversals, the male carries hundreds of developing babies in a brood pouch until they are ready to enter the world.

The Best Team Parenting Award would undoubtedly go to elephant families. Mothers, grandmothers, aunts and older sisters work together to protect, guide and nurture calves, creating one of the most effective childcare systems found in nature.

The Community Parenting Award would be presented to wolves. Far from the villains of folklore, wolf packs raise their pups collectively, sharing food, protection and the skills needed for survival.

The Smallest Parent, Biggest Heart Award might go to the humble burying beetle. Despite its tiny size, it prepares food, guards its larvae and feeds them until they can survive on their own.

Finally, the Most Selfless Mother Award would surely belong to the octopus. She spends months guarding and cleaning her eggs, often refusing to eat until the young hatch, sacrificing her own life in the process.

The list could easily continue. Crocodiles gently carry their hatchlings in their powerful jaws. Poison dart frogs transport tadpoles one by one to safe pools. Clownfish fathers tirelessly fan their eggs to keep them supplied with oxygen. Nature is full of stories that combine tenderness with determination.

Of course, the purpose of this imaginary award ceremony is not to compare animals with humans or to suggest that animals make "better" parents. Human parenting is uniquely enriched by love, ethics, education, culture and conscious choice. Parents across the world make extraordinary sacrifices for their children while balancing work, financial responsibilities and the many pressures of modern life.

Yet nature offers a gentle reminder. Successful parenting has never depended on expensive gadgets, fashionable advice or the latest technology. It has always rested on patience, protection, guidance and, above all, time.

Today, our greatest challenge is not a lack of love but a shortage of attention. Smartphones compete with conversations, work deadlines reduce family time, and digital distractions often replace shared moments that children remember for life.

A penguin has no smartphone, an elephant has no office schedule and a wolf has no social media account. Yet each invests precious time in its young. Humans possess intelligence, science and technology unmatched in the natural world. Our challenge is to ensure that these achievements strengthen family life rather than quietly replace it.

Scientific research reinforces this perspective. A study published in Nature Communications analysing more than 1,300 amphibian species showed that parental care has evolved independently many times, ranging from simple egg guarding to prolonged care after birth.

Across the animal kingdom, one lesson remains remarkably consistent: investing in offspring improves their chances of survival.

As I left my garden that morning, the bird was still feeding its chicks, and the village dog was still watching over her puppies. Neither had attended a parenting workshop or read a book on child psychology. Yet both were following an instinct shaped by millions of years of evolution—the instinct to feed, protect and prepare the next generation.

Perhaps that is why the quiet teachers of the natural world continue to inspire us. They remind us that while the forms of parenting may differ, its enduring foundations remain the same: care, sacrifice, responsibility and hope for the future.