Why Is
Giving Birth So Hard?
New theories are challenging a
long-standing notion that the difficulty of childbirth is simply an
evolutionary trade-off.
A newborn is examined at a
maternity ward in England.Suzanne Plunkett / Reuters
·
DEC 4, 2017
·
HEALTH
·
Share
·
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·
…
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Harvey Karp, the best-selling
author of The Happiest Baby on the Block, has some advice on his website for frazzled new
parents: “Remember—your baby’s brain was so big that you had to ‘evict’ her
after nine months, even though she was still smushy, mushy, and very immature.”
It’s not an idea unique to Karp.
Scientists have long struggled to explain the myriad challenges attending human
childbirth compared to other primates, from the relative helplessness of human
infants, to the very “tight fit,” as some researchers have put it,
between the female human pelvis and the typical size of a child that must pass
through it.
MORE FROM OUR PARTNERS
The mystery was the catalyst for
what became known as “the obstetrical dilemma,” a long-debated though widely
accepted hypothesis suggesting that the upright gait of Homo sapienswas
accompanied by a narrowing of the pelvis—an evolutionary trade-off that
resulted in increased risks to pregnant mothers as they struggled to push
large-brained babies through ever-slimmer birth canals. Among other things, the
dilemma has been used to suggest that the wider, birth-giving hips of women
have hindered them locomotively and athletically—and perhaps even
evolutionarily—compared to men.
That has always struck some
scientists as too pat an explanation, though it is only in the last decade or
so that the theory, which still has many subscribers, has received substantive
pushback. Today, challenges abound for the idiosyncrasies of human
gestation and birth—including new notions that look beyond evolution to more
proximate and modern factors like poor diet and obesity.
Of course, rigorous debate over the
relative strengths and weaknesses of theories in this cul-de-sac of
physiological science will surely continue. But for all the back-and-forth, one
thing seems quite clear: The days of simply describing the human birth
process—and women themselves—as evolutionarily compromised seem to be coming to
an end.
For some researchers, that change
in thinking is long overdue.
* *
*
Sherwood Washburn, the physical
anthropologist who coined the phrase“obstetrical dilemma,” first
published his theory in the September 1960 issue of Scientific American.
He argued that, “in man, adaptation to bipedal locomotion decreased the size of
the bony birth canal at the same time that the exigencies of tool use selected
for larger brains. This obstetrical dilemma was solved by the delivery of the
fetus at a much earlier stage of development.”
Early delivery, he concluded,
foisted far greater responsibility on the “slow-moving mother,” who was now
forced to hold her “helpless, immature infant,” while the men went out hunting.
The assumption that “women are
compromised bipedally in order to give birth,” is widely accepted, says
anthropologist Holly Dunsworth of the University of Rhode Island. But Dunsworth
sees flaws in this premise. Women already have a range of dimensions in their
birth canal, she thought, and they are all walking just fine. Indeed, research on human skeletons by
anthropologist Helen Kurki of the University of Victoria in Canada has shown
that the size and shape of the human birth canal varies very widely, even more
so than the size and shape of their arms.
So in 2007, Dunsworth went looking
for evidence to support the obstetrical dilemma as it has traditionally been
understood.
“When I couldn’t, I thought I was
crazy,” she says. Intrigued, she enlisted Anna Warrener, a professor of biology
and biomechanics, then at Harvard University, to test the notion that wider
pelvises in women decrease the efficiency of locomotion. After measuring
the chain reaction of forces moving through the body—from
the foot to the leg to the hip—Warrener and her colleagues found that wider
hips do not increase the cost of locomotion. Indeed, both women and men are equally efficient at walking and
running, and in hunter-gatherer societies, women walk, on
average, 5.5 miles per day, often while carrying and
feeding infants as well.
“The obstetric dilemma, in its
definition, has housed this idea that women aren’t as good as men in some
things because they have to give birth,” adds Cara Wall-Scheffler, an evolutionary
anthropologist who studies human locomotion at Seattle Pacific University. “I
have a number of papers that show that women are great
walkers, and in some particular tasks women are better—they don’t use as much
energy, they don’t build as much heat, they can carry heavier loads with less
of an energetic burden.”
Dunsworth has an alternative theory
as to why human pregnancy ends when it does: It’s called EGG,
for “energetics of gestation and fetal growth,” and it applies not just to
humans but to other mammals too. While a mother’s metabolic rate doubles during
pregnancy, the fetus’s energy needs to increase exponentially toward the end of
pregnancy. “As the fetus gets bigger and bigger and costlier and costlier to
grow inside of the uterus,” Dunsworth explains, the mother’s metabolic rate
reaches a limit. But the baby has to continue growing, “so the only way to do
that is to get born.”
She is currently testing EGG on
pregnant marmosets, measuring their energy use and metabolic rate during
pregnancy over time, “to see if they give birth when they reach their maximum
sustainable metabolic rate, as we do.”
Still others seek to explain why human
brain volume has tripled over the past 2.5 million years, from the time of the
Australopithecines. In a 2016 paper,
brain and cognitive-science researchers Steven Piantadosi and Celeste Kidd of
the University of Rochester argue that helpless, larger-brained but early-born
babies select for parents with advanced intelligence who must interpret their
wordless signals; these larger-brained parents produce babies with
ever-increasing brain size, a self-reinforcing process leading to “runaway
selection for premature infants and big brains.”
Dunsworth readily acknowledges that
childbirth can be difficult, and that the human birth canal is indeed a tight
fit for the fetus, even though humans are born with the smallest relative brain
of all primates (only 30 percent of our adult brain size, compared to chimps,
whose brains at birth are 40 percent of adult size). Globally, an average of
216 women die for every 100,000 live births, according to data from UNICEF. But the disparity
between high- and low-income countries is gigantic: The lifetime risk of
maternal death in rich countries is one in 3,300, compared to one in 41 in poor
countries.
As such, blaming reproductive
complications on evolution, writes Pamela K. Stone of the Culture, Brain, and
Development Program at Hampshire College in Amherst, Massachusetts, “conceals
the larger health disparities and risks that women face globally.”
Childbirth is difficult for many
reasons, she writes—among them the 19th-century switch from birthing in the
upright position, which allows the pelvic girdle to expand in response to
contractions, to the supine position (still common among women in the West)
which often requires the use of forceps.
* *
*
Enter Jonathan Wells, a professor
of anthropology and pediatric nutrition at the Great Ormond Street Institute of
Child Health at University College London, who argues for a competing
hypothesis on the obstetrical dilemma. For starters, Wells argues, long-term
ecological trends have likely played a role in changes in both pelvic
dimensions and offspring brain size. One such trend was the rise of agriculture
about 11,500 years ago in the Levant, which led to a shift from
a high-protein diet common among foragers to one replete with cereals. A
high-carb diet is associated with both increased birth weight and shorter
stature in the mother, and short
stature is linked to smaller and flatter pelvises.
By that reasoning, the emergence of
agricultural diets could have impacted “maternal mass and brain size, and may
therefore have exacerbated the obstetric dilemma,” he says.
More recently, Wells has pointed to
trends in both malnutrition and obesity as culprits in what he describes as a
“new” obstetrical dilemma. According to Wells, this “dual burden” is contributing to a rising toll
of obstructed labor, gestational diabetes, and larger-than-average newborns.
Wells describes his theory in the April 2017 issue of The
Anatomical Record.
Between 1980 and 2013, the
percentage of overweight and obese women globally rose from 29.8 percent to 38 percent. At
the same time, one in three people are malnourished in one form or
another. “There is rapidly accumulating evidence,” Wells says, “that
the dual burden of malnutrition can occur within the same individuals: those
who experienced poor nutrition and became stunted in early life, but who have
also been exposed to obesogenic pressures from childhood onward and who have
therefore gained excess weight subsequently.”
As Wells notes, obstructed labor,
where delivery of the baby causes harm to the mother, child, or both, accounts
for 12 percent of maternal mortality worldwide. It also increases substantially
the risk of serious long-term maternal injuries, such as obstetric fistula. Dunsworth’s EGG theory
can’t explain this frequency, he says.
But the combination of obesity and
malnutrition can: Malnutrition and infectious disease in childhood is linked to
short stature, which is associated with smaller pelvises in adulthood. Obesity,
which is rising fastest in populations most prone to childbirth complications,
increases the risk of delivering a “macrosomic” baby, whose birth weight
exceeds the 90th percentile in any given population. “Overweight women in most
populations are more likely to develop gestational diabetes if they are also
short,” Wells adds. The combination of gestational diabetes and maternal
obesity doubles the risk of macrosomic babies. So in theory, Wells says, a
short overweight woman has two different risk factors for obstructed labor:
smaller pelvic dimensions, and a higher probability of producing a large
newborn.
This scenario is further aggravated
by the persistence of child marriage, in which teens give birth before pelvic
growth is completed, and gender inequality. A recent study of 31 countries in sub-Saharan
Africa conducted by Alissa Koski, a postdoctoral scholar at the University of
California, Los Angeles, Fielding School of Public Health, found that more than
one-third of girls in more than half of the countries studied married before
the age of 18. In another study of 96 countries, Wells and his colleagues found
“strong associations” between societal gender inequality and the prevalence of
low birth weight, stunting, wasting, and child mortality. “On this basis,” he
says, “societies with high levels of gender inequality are more likely to
produce adult women of smaller body size,” which will impact the dimensions of
the pelvis.
At the other extreme, he notes,
obesity is increasing in prevalence faster in women than in men. Given these
rapid increases in obesity, overweight women are more likely to experience
difficulties in delivering babies if they were also stunted in childhood, Wells
predicts—although so far, he doesn’t have the data to prove it. It is clear,
however, that cesarean delivery has become one of the most common surgical
procedures worldwide, increasing to “unprecedented levels” between 1990 and 2014
and ranging from 6 to 27 percent of all births in the least- to most-developed
regions, respectively.
Dunsworth sees this as something of
a self-fulfilling prophecy. “I worry that this idea [of the obstetrical
dilemma] is justifying status-quo high rates of C-sections and other childbirth
interventions,” Dunsworth says. “People say, ‘It’s just evolution—there’s
nothing we can do, and here’s how technology helps, and that’s fabulous.’ But I
know we’re overdoing it. Everybody knows that.”
While Dunsworth says she admires
Wells’s research, she adds that she wishes he would come out a little more
strongly against the evolutionary obstetrical dilemma.
For his part, Wells describes the
work of Dunsworth and her colleagues as being of “major importance.” But “that
doesn’t mean that Washburn had no important message,” he adds. “We have to
acknowledge that the process of birth is surprisingly complex in humans,
compared to other apes.”
“It is very clear from maternal
mortality statistics that the contemporary burden of the obstetric dilemma is
highly unequally distributed amongst women,” Wells says. “This suggests that if
we had a better understanding of its biological basis, we could improve our
efforts to reduce the burden of maternal and child mortality.”
Why Is
Giving Birth So Hard?
New theories are challenging a
long-standing notion that the difficulty of childbirth is simply an
evolutionary trade-off.
A newborn is examined at a
maternity ward in England.Suzanne Plunkett / Reuters
·
DEC 4, 2017
·
HEALTH
·
Share
·
Tweet
·
…
o LinkedIn
o Email
o Print
TEXT SIZE
Like The Atlantic? Subscribe
to The Atlantic Daily, our
free weekday email newsletter.
Harvey Karp, the best-selling
author of The Happiest Baby on the Block, has some advice on his website for frazzled new
parents: “Remember—your baby’s brain was so big that you had to ‘evict’ her
after nine months, even though she was still smushy, mushy, and very immature.”
It’s not an idea unique to Karp.
Scientists have long struggled to explain the myriad challenges attending human
childbirth compared to other primates, from the relative helplessness of human
infants, to the very “tight fit,” as some researchers have put it,
between the female human pelvis and the typical size of a child that must pass
through it.
MORE FROM OUR PARTNERS
The mystery was the catalyst for
what became known as “the obstetrical dilemma,” a long-debated though widely
accepted hypothesis suggesting that the upright gait of Homo sapienswas
accompanied by a narrowing of the pelvis—an evolutionary trade-off that
resulted in increased risks to pregnant mothers as they struggled to push
large-brained babies through ever-slimmer birth canals. Among other things, the
dilemma has been used to suggest that the wider, birth-giving hips of women
have hindered them locomotively and athletically—and perhaps even
evolutionarily—compared to men.
That has always struck some
scientists as too pat an explanation, though it is only in the last decade or
so that the theory, which still has many subscribers, has received substantive
pushback. Today, challenges abound for the idiosyncrasies of human
gestation and birth—including new notions that look beyond evolution to more
proximate and modern factors like poor diet and obesity.
Of course, rigorous debate over the
relative strengths and weaknesses of theories in this cul-de-sac of
physiological science will surely continue. But for all the back-and-forth, one
thing seems quite clear: The days of simply describing the human birth
process—and women themselves—as evolutionarily compromised seem to be coming to
an end.
For some researchers, that change
in thinking is long overdue.
* *
*
Sherwood Washburn, the physical
anthropologist who coined the phrase“obstetrical dilemma,” first
published his theory in the September 1960 issue of Scientific American.
He argued that, “in man, adaptation to bipedal locomotion decreased the size of
the bony birth canal at the same time that the exigencies of tool use selected
for larger brains. This obstetrical dilemma was solved by the delivery of the
fetus at a much earlier stage of development.”
Early delivery, he concluded,
foisted far greater responsibility on the “slow-moving mother,” who was now
forced to hold her “helpless, immature infant,” while the men went out hunting.
The assumption that “women are
compromised bipedally in order to give birth,” is widely accepted, says
anthropologist Holly Dunsworth of the University of Rhode Island. But Dunsworth
sees flaws in this premise. Women already have a range of dimensions in their
birth canal, she thought, and they are all walking just fine. Indeed, research on human skeletons by
anthropologist Helen Kurki of the University of Victoria in Canada has shown
that the size and shape of the human birth canal varies very widely, even more
so than the size and shape of their arms.
So in 2007, Dunsworth went looking
for evidence to support the obstetrical dilemma as it has traditionally been
understood.
“When I couldn’t, I thought I was
crazy,” she says. Intrigued, she enlisted Anna Warrener, a professor of biology
and biomechanics, then at Harvard University, to test the notion that wider
pelvises in women decrease the efficiency of locomotion. After measuring
the chain reaction of forces moving through the body—from
the foot to the leg to the hip—Warrener and her colleagues found that wider
hips do not increase the cost of locomotion. Indeed, both women and men are equally efficient at walking and
running, and in hunter-gatherer societies, women walk, on
average, 5.5 miles per day, often while carrying and
feeding infants as well.
“The obstetric dilemma, in its
definition, has housed this idea that women aren’t as good as men in some
things because they have to give birth,” adds Cara Wall-Scheffler, an evolutionary
anthropologist who studies human locomotion at Seattle Pacific University. “I
have a number of papers that show that women are great
walkers, and in some particular tasks women are better—they don’t use as much
energy, they don’t build as much heat, they can carry heavier loads with less
of an energetic burden.”
Dunsworth has an alternative theory
as to why human pregnancy ends when it does: It’s called EGG,
for “energetics of gestation and fetal growth,” and it applies not just to
humans but to other mammals too. While a mother’s metabolic rate doubles during
pregnancy, the fetus’s energy needs to increase exponentially toward the end of
pregnancy. “As the fetus gets bigger and bigger and costlier and costlier to
grow inside of the uterus,” Dunsworth explains, the mother’s metabolic rate
reaches a limit. But the baby has to continue growing, “so the only way to do
that is to get born.”
She is currently testing EGG on
pregnant marmosets, measuring their energy use and metabolic rate during
pregnancy over time, “to see if they give birth when they reach their maximum
sustainable metabolic rate, as we do.”
Still others seek to explain why human
brain volume has tripled over the past 2.5 million years, from the time of the
Australopithecines. In a 2016 paper,
brain and cognitive-science researchers Steven Piantadosi and Celeste Kidd of
the University of Rochester argue that helpless, larger-brained but early-born
babies select for parents with advanced intelligence who must interpret their
wordless signals; these larger-brained parents produce babies with
ever-increasing brain size, a self-reinforcing process leading to “runaway
selection for premature infants and big brains.”
Dunsworth readily acknowledges that
childbirth can be difficult, and that the human birth canal is indeed a tight
fit for the fetus, even though humans are born with the smallest relative brain
of all primates (only 30 percent of our adult brain size, compared to chimps,
whose brains at birth are 40 percent of adult size). Globally, an average of
216 women die for every 100,000 live births, according to data from UNICEF. But the disparity
between high- and low-income countries is gigantic: The lifetime risk of
maternal death in rich countries is one in 3,300, compared to one in 41 in poor
countries.
As such, blaming reproductive
complications on evolution, writes Pamela K. Stone of the Culture, Brain, and
Development Program at Hampshire College in Amherst, Massachusetts, “conceals
the larger health disparities and risks that women face globally.”
Childbirth is difficult for many
reasons, she writes—among them the 19th-century switch from birthing in the
upright position, which allows the pelvic girdle to expand in response to
contractions, to the supine position (still common among women in the West)
which often requires the use of forceps.
* *
*
Enter Jonathan Wells, a professor
of anthropology and pediatric nutrition at the Great Ormond Street Institute of
Child Health at University College London, who argues for a competing
hypothesis on the obstetrical dilemma. For starters, Wells argues, long-term
ecological trends have likely played a role in changes in both pelvic
dimensions and offspring brain size. One such trend was the rise of agriculture
about 11,500 years ago in the Levant, which led to a shift from
a high-protein diet common among foragers to one replete with cereals. A
high-carb diet is associated with both increased birth weight and shorter
stature in the mother, and short
stature is linked to smaller and flatter pelvises.
By that reasoning, the emergence of
agricultural diets could have impacted “maternal mass and brain size, and may
therefore have exacerbated the obstetric dilemma,” he says.
More recently, Wells has pointed to
trends in both malnutrition and obesity as culprits in what he describes as a
“new” obstetrical dilemma. According to Wells, this “dual burden” is contributing to a rising toll
of obstructed labor, gestational diabetes, and larger-than-average newborns.
Wells describes his theory in the April 2017 issue of The
Anatomical Record.
Between 1980 and 2013, the
percentage of overweight and obese women globally rose from 29.8 percent to 38 percent. At
the same time, one in three people are malnourished in one form or
another. “There is rapidly accumulating evidence,” Wells says, “that
the dual burden of malnutrition can occur within the same individuals: those
who experienced poor nutrition and became stunted in early life, but who have
also been exposed to obesogenic pressures from childhood onward and who have
therefore gained excess weight subsequently.”
As Wells notes, obstructed labor,
where delivery of the baby causes harm to the mother, child, or both, accounts
for 12 percent of maternal mortality worldwide. It also increases substantially
the risk of serious long-term maternal injuries, such as obstetric fistula. Dunsworth’s EGG theory
can’t explain this frequency, he says.
But the combination of obesity and
malnutrition can: Malnutrition and infectious disease in childhood is linked to
short stature, which is associated with smaller pelvises in adulthood. Obesity,
which is rising fastest in populations most prone to childbirth complications,
increases the risk of delivering a “macrosomic” baby, whose birth weight
exceeds the 90th percentile in any given population. “Overweight women in most
populations are more likely to develop gestational diabetes if they are also
short,” Wells adds. The combination of gestational diabetes and maternal
obesity doubles the risk of macrosomic babies. So in theory, Wells says, a
short overweight woman has two different risk factors for obstructed labor:
smaller pelvic dimensions, and a higher probability of producing a large
newborn.
This scenario is further aggravated
by the persistence of child marriage, in which teens give birth before pelvic
growth is completed, and gender inequality. A recent study of 31 countries in sub-Saharan
Africa conducted by Alissa Koski, a postdoctoral scholar at the University of
California, Los Angeles, Fielding School of Public Health, found that more than
one-third of girls in more than half of the countries studied married before
the age of 18. In another study of 96 countries, Wells and his colleagues found
“strong associations” between societal gender inequality and the prevalence of
low birth weight, stunting, wasting, and child mortality. “On this basis,” he
says, “societies with high levels of gender inequality are more likely to
produce adult women of smaller body size,” which will impact the dimensions of
the pelvis.
At the other extreme, he notes,
obesity is increasing in prevalence faster in women than in men. Given these
rapid increases in obesity, overweight women are more likely to experience
difficulties in delivering babies if they were also stunted in childhood, Wells
predicts—although so far, he doesn’t have the data to prove it. It is clear,
however, that cesarean delivery has become one of the most common surgical
procedures worldwide, increasing to “unprecedented levels” between 1990 and 2014
and ranging from 6 to 27 percent of all births in the least- to most-developed
regions, respectively.
Dunsworth sees this as something of
a self-fulfilling prophecy. “I worry that this idea [of the obstetrical
dilemma] is justifying status-quo high rates of C-sections and other childbirth
interventions,” Dunsworth says. “People say, ‘It’s just evolution—there’s
nothing we can do, and here’s how technology helps, and that’s fabulous.’ But I
know we’re overdoing it. Everybody knows that.”
While Dunsworth says she admires
Wells’s research, she adds that she wishes he would come out a little more
strongly against the evolutionary obstetrical dilemma.
For his part, Wells describes the
work of Dunsworth and her colleagues as being of “major importance.” But “that
doesn’t mean that Washburn had no important message,” he adds. “We have to
acknowledge that the process of birth is surprisingly complex in humans,
compared to other apes.”
“It is very clear from maternal
mortality statistics that the contemporary burden of the obstetric dilemma is
highly unequally distributed amongst women,” Wells says. “This suggests that if
we had a better understanding of its biological basis, we could improve our
efforts to reduce the burden of maternal and child mortality.”