This partial transcript was computer-generated. While our team has reviewed it, there may be errors.
Mina Kim: Welcome to Forum. I’m Mina Kim. When science journalist Elizabeth Preston had a child of her own, some of the more familiar—even mundane—animal caregiving behaviors—a robin stuffing food into a baby bird’s beak, a bat with a baby clinging to her fur—became both relatable and remarkable.
“When we look at how different creatures take care of their young, the wall between humans and the rest of the animals reveals itself to be flimsy at best,” Preston writes in her new book, The Creature’s Guide to Caring: How Animal Parents Teach Us That Humans Were Born to Care.
Listeners, what remarkable animal caregiving examples have you seen or heard about? Preston contributes to The New York Times, The Boston Globe, The Atlantic, and other publications, and joins me now. Welcome to Forum, Elizabeth.
Elizabeth Preston: Hi. Thank you so much for having me.
Mina Kim: Well, thank you so much for coming on. What was your experience of having a baby like that made you want to understand more about animal care?
Elizabeth Preston: Oh gosh, the experience of having a baby is so overwhelming because it really changes your whole world. What made me feel compelled to write this book was becoming a parent and becoming aware of the whole universe of parenting books and literature out there. There’s so much we can read and consume about parenting, but I wasn’t really seeing anything that considered humans as animals.
We like to think of ourselves as unique, as if we have unique problems in raising our kids. But I wanted to ask: we are animals. And if we look at the rest of the animal kingdom—at their biology, their evolution—can that tell us anything about our own role as parents? How we got here, what we’re doing, and maybe even how we could do it better?
Mina Kim: Yeah. I love this line from your book where you write that birthing another human will leave you with no illusions about whether you’re an animal—your body follows a program that feels light-years away from conscious thought. Was part of this also just how much parenting can throw you for a loop? Were you seeking not just perspective, but maybe answers?
Elizabeth Preston: Definitely. It’s an existential change to have kids. I felt like a different person afterward, almost like I couldn’t even remember what it was like to be a person without kids. Looking at the animal world lets you explore that existential question—what does it mean to be an animal? What kind of animal is a human?
Becoming a parent versus not being a parent, being human versus being animal—these are all connected questions. And looking at them together can be really illuminating.
Mina Kim: A particular example you found relatable was the Egyptian fruit bat. Can you tell us what she does?
Elizabeth Preston: She has an incredibly intense job. She carries her baby constantly, with the pup clinging to her chest—even as it grows to about 40 percent of her body weight. Imagine a large elementary schooler clinging to your neck every time you leave the house. And she has to fly.
She flies out from the cave at night with the baby attached, gripping her with sharp claws and even clamping onto her nipple with its teeth—which I personally found upsetting to learn.
Then, while foraging, she “stashes” the baby on a tree branch outside the cave. She checks back throughout the night to nurse it and keep it warm. As the baby grows, she may use multiple trees, sometimes closer to the cave.
What scientists found is that once the pup becomes independent and starts flying on its own, it navigates first to those same trees. It’s built a mental map of its surroundings by riding along with its mother. Even though it’s upside down, clinging to her chest in the dark, it learns how to survive in the world.
Mina Kim: We’re talking with Elizabeth Preston about animal caregiving. Listeners, do you have a favorite example of animal parenting? Have you observed animals—wild or domesticated—taking care of their young? What did you notice? You can email forum@kqed.org, find us on Discord, BlueSky, Facebook, or Instagram @kqedforum, or call 866-733-6786.
You also found similarities in feelings like exhaustion and sacrifice—like the blue whale mother that fasts for months while her calf gains about 250 pounds a day. But I was especially struck by the story of the purple octopus off the California coast. Can you tell us about her?
Elizabeth Preston: That’s an incredible story. Scientists know some things about octopuses, but deep-sea species are harder to study. We use submersibles, but we still have limited information.
We do know that octopus mothers brood their eggs—either tucking them into crevices or wrapping their arms around them. While protecting the eggs, keeping them oxygenated and safe, they don’t eat. They don’t leave. They slowly waste away.
For most octopuses, the female’s entire lifespan is about a year. She mates, lays eggs, protects them, and dies when they hatch.
In this case, scientists discovered a deep-sea purple octopus clinging to a rock face, guarding her eggs. They assumed the usual timeline. But when they returned, she was still there. And again. And again.
In the end, it took four and a half years before the eggs hatched and she disappeared—presumably dead. Scientists were stunned that she could survive that long without leaving or feeding.
Mina Kim: Four and a half years—that outlasts most octopuses. And we’ve moved away from thinking these stories mean mothers should sacrifice everything, right? You point out we shouldn’t treat this octopus as an ideal.
Elizabeth Preston: Right. She’s just doing what her instincts dictate. And it highlights why we’re not octopuses.
Humans may feel isolated while caring for a baby, but we’re not meant to do it alone. We have family, friends, community. That’s what distinguishes us from species where one parent is entirely responsible.
Mina Kim: And most animals don’t care for their young at all—is that right?
Elizabeth Preston: That’s right. As mammals, we’re biased to think caregiving is the norm. In mammals, the mother has to care for the baby—it’s built in. And in birds, both parents usually share the work.
But across the broader animal kingdom, parenting is actually rare. Most animals lay eggs and move on. What’s remarkable is that parenting has evolved many times independently.
Across reptiles, fish, amphibians—you can find examples of caregiving in all kinds of unexpected forms.
Mina Kim: What are scientists hoping to learn from these caregiving animals?
Elizabeth Preston: Some are studying the brains of caregiving animals to find parallels with mammals. For example, research on poison frogs—where fathers often care for the young—shows interesting patterns.
These frogs live in the rainforest, where tadpoles can’t survive without water. So the father carries them on his back to small pools, essentially giving them a place to live. In some species, the mother also feeds them by laying unfertilized eggs.
Scientists studying their brains have found that caregiving behavior is linked to a region called the MPOA in the hypothalamus. What’s fascinating is that this same brain area is involved in caregiving in mammals.
It suggests that the neural basis for caregiving is incredibly ancient—shared across very distant branches of the animal kingdom.
Mina Kim: Wow. We’re talking with Elizabeth Preston about The Creature’s Guide to Caring: How Animal Parents Teach Us That Humans Were Born to Care. More after the break. I’m Mina Kim. Stay with us.