Mongoose, Equity, and Education

Learning from nature to create equitable systems

Somewhere in the wild grasslands of Uganda, just before dawn, a group of small, cat-like animals begins to stir. The banded mongoose is not a creature that usually draws attention. However, when researchers observed their birthing patterns, they discovered something profoundly quiet, a concept that challenges our understanding of fairness and how we design systems of intention and care, including those in education.

They noticed that within each group, most pregnant females gave birth on the same night in a shared den. Scientists call this "birth synchrony," but it creates something more meaningful than just cool coincidence and simplified logistics; it creates a "veil of ignorance." The pups, all born at the same time, look, smell, and sound nearly identical. Even their mothers can't tell them apart.

What follows is both remarkable and instinctively natural. Since no mother knows which pup is hers, they begin caring for all of them. Not equally, but equitably. The weaker, underweight pups are allowed more time to suckle. Those who might have been overlooked in a system of strict parental preference, one that aims to equip the strongest pups with the most resources to maximise their survival, are given what they need to grow, catch up, and thrive. Within weeks, the weight disparities vanish. The litter becomes level.

We are, of course, not banded mongooses. With our larger brains, we've evolved to be very different. We do not have a veil of ignorance. Unlike mongooses, who have evolved to calibrate their communities based on need, we rely on classification to navigate our complex social world. But when combined with power, this trait has brought troubling consequences, including discrimination shaped by stereotypes and prejudice.

While in the wild, a group quietly follows an undebated, natural practice of building community through care guided by what each one requires, strong human voices increasingly question the very idea of equity, arguing that it lowers standards or compromises merit.

Why? Because we are not all aligned in our understanding of fairness. Those in positions of advantage often fear losing status or identity. To them, the idea of redistributing resources can feel threatening, unearned, or unfair. We refuse to examine the roots of our discriminatory social structures and instead want to look at fairness from a personal, contemporary lens.

The idea that fairness is not about sameness but rather about meeting everyone's needs is not new. In this context, fairness means recognising that different starting points call for different kinds of support. It speaks directly to the heart of equity. Still, we don't always see it practiced, especially in large systems like education.

Interestingly, this image of fairness in the mongoose world resonates quietly in the work of cognitive neuroscientist Helen Abadzi. She spent years studying how children, especially those facing systemic and structural disadvantages, learn best. Her message is clear: if we want education to work for everyone, we must design for difference, not assume sameness.

Abadzi points out that many children enter school already behind, not because they are less capable, but because they've had fewer chances to develop the cognitive fluency needed for formal learning. Early hurdles, such as slower processing speeds, fewer books at home, or unstable environments, add up. Yet, most schools treat these children just like everyone else, expecting them to keep pace in a system that was never designed with them in mind.

But just like the banded mongooses, Abadzi suggests that the answer isn't favouritism. It lies in calibration. If a child struggles with fluency, they may require more repetition, visual aids, and additional practice time to improve their skills. If attention spans are limited, lessons may need to be shorter, more focused, and less cluttered. These are not grand solutions. They are quiet design shifts, subtle and intentional changes that honour the learner's starting point.

The beauty of the mongoose story lies in its gentleness. It's a biological adaptation that engineers fairness. They simply found it to be the most stable way of nurturing their community. The veil of ignorance left them no choice but to care for all.

Abadzi argues that educational environments must also be deliberately engineered to support learning for all. At the core of this engineering is our approach to fairness. Today, studies show that we humans have a strong biological predisposition toward fairness. We also have the power to reason, particularly when our sense of fairness is guided by care and conscientiousness rather than fear or self-interest.

We don't need to blindfold ourselves. We just need to see clearly and act with compassion and precision.

With a commitment to offering each child what they need to thrive.

Reference:

• Helen Abadzi, 2006. "Efficient Learning for the Poor: Insights from the Frontier of Cognitive Neuroscience," World Bank Publications - Books, The World Bank Group, number 7023, April.

• psychologicalscience.org/news/releases/are-humans-hardwired-for-fairness.html