Clearly we're genetically wired for fear -- babies and animals with zero self awareness display remarkably similar behaviors when placed in threatening situations. In the pre-ligual, a fear response is easily confused with the standard negative-affect behavior (crying, struggling), but some distinguishing characteristics are notable. The eyes and pupils initially widen (researchers theorize that this is the body's attempt to take in as much information about the threat as possible before responding) and an adrenaline surge prompts the range of behaviors often referred to as the "fight or flight" response.

With the development of consciousness and communication skills, the child must be socialized into appropriate responses to fear. Mere instinctual behavior will not serve them well into adulthood; screaming and banging one's fists against a conference room table before fleeing into the hallway is not necessarily the ticket to upper management.

Consider the difficulty of the socialization task. Your child must be taught to moderate and harness the immense physical process that takes place when the mind believes it is threatened. S/he must also be encouraged to distinguish between events that are genuinely dangerous and those that pose no threat, and respond appropriately. So: a noisy marching band comes down the street, let by what appear to be enormous animal mascots... and the child is told is to face its fears and learn to enjoy the experience. But a stranger offers them a ride home and they must recognize the danger and run like hell. Moreover, the parent must teach the child not only what to fear, but how to fear it.

If it's tough on the parents, it's yet more difficult for the child, who must learn these seemingly conflicting messages and then act on them on faith, with little experience to suggest they won't backfire. With limited cognitive capabilities, s/he must learn to mitigate a range of physiological responses that have their origins in a time when danger generally meant physical attack.

It's really rather incredible that we have a sense of psychological danger -- the sensation of feeling the inexplicable substance of one's self is at risk. For example, what possible evolutionary benefit comes from the notion of privacy -- not the physical kind which can be tied to the sanctity of one's belongings, but the emotional type, the shielding of one's own emotions and thoughts from others? How could the imminent exposure of one's feelings and ideas be frightening?

Western horror films are rich with themes of super-beings and intrusive governmental systems that can read the minds of us normal humans. These references point to a cultural, if not biological, fascination with the sanctity of the mind and spirit. Some people I know (family, a few friends) are aware of this site, and for reasons I cannot fully explain this troubles me sometimes. It is oddly easier to expose yourself to strangers than to those standing next to you. What is it about being understood that makes it so desirable and so terrifying?