11

He’s eleven. He can’t go to the doctor without me yet. He can’t have his own library card or get a piercing in his ear without me yet. He can’t get a job or handle his own appointments or money yet.  Science shows us that his reasoning, his rational mind, his ability to consider future consequences of his actions and decisions is fourteen years off being fully developed.

Next year he’ll turn twelve. He’ll move to a new school where his year group will be bigger (by far) than every school he’s ever attended. He’ll head into some of the toughest years of his life where hormones and what others think will drive his beliefs and choices. Where he’ll push the boundaries of his independence in order to grab hold of it. Where he’ll learn about the world by trial and error and making wrong turns. Where accidents and mental illness will statistically be among the biggest threats to his life.  

Apparently now he could also potentially be deemed a ‘mature minor’ by someone who barely knows him and asked to make medical decisions for himself. Well, one particular medical decision.

This world is getting so curious.

Curiouser and curiouser.

So I guess we have six months to cover the ‘informed’ part of this consent for him. To inform him of things that an eleven-year-old child shouldn’t have to wrap his head around. To inform him that he can say no, not now, I cannot and should not be asked to make this decision here and now on my own. What I know about this particular eleven-year-old is that a piece of paper full of words, put in front of him in an unusual and complex situation like this isn’t going to inform him enough to suddenly develop his capacity to weigh up his risks and benefits or consider the long term impacts of his decision, whichever way he would choose. I’m sure though, if the opportunity was sprung on him he would love the feeling of responsibility, he would look around at his new mates and jump in or follow them into making the call anyway. I don’t think I’m the only one who knows this about him and other kids his age.

How many of us said yes to the glowing cigarette at this age faced with a version of “Sure you can say no but you won’t be able to sit with us or come to our parties”. We know very well that our kids aren’t developmentally able to do this and yet we are getting ready to ask them to.

I’m worried that our need to be ‘on the right team’ in this thing is clouding our ability to see some of the very wrong things changing and unfolding within it. A twelve-year-old can conform, comply and obey but a twelve-year-old cannot give informed consent and I am increasingly wary of anyone who would have us believe that they can, just for this, just this once.