Family Matters: Secrecy and Disclosure in the History of Adoption (review)

Family Matters examines the complicated history of adoption in the United States, with a focus on the issue of secrecy. Contrary to popular assumptions, adoption has not been shrouded in secrecy for centuries. In fact, prior to World War II, adoption was guided by the principle of confidentiality rather than secrecy. Adoption records were open to all members of the adoption triad—adult adoptees, biological parents, and adoptive parents. But they were not available to the general public. After World War II, however, confidentiality was replaced by secrecy; not even those involved in the adoption had access to the records.

The reasons for this shift were complex, according to Carp. The increase in the numbers of children born out of wedlock, the heightened stigma of illegitimacy in the era of the baby boom when the nuclear family was highly valorized, and the dramatic demographic shift in children available for adoption—from older children to young infants—all contributed to the trend toward secrecy. In post-World War II America, the rush into marriage and parenthood as markers of maturity, respectability, and patriotism increased pressures on unwed mothers to relinquish their babies, and on childless couples to adopt. The overall intention was to create the illusion that children were born within wedlock to their biological parents. In the effort to hide the fact of adoption, the move toward secrecy sharpened the long-standing assumption that biological families were inherently superior to those formed by adoption.

Carp traces the power of this belief in the superiority of biological ties through the changing policies and the politics of adoption rights throughout the twentieth century. He points out the ironic fact that this prevailing belief prompted not only the move toward secrecy but also the move toward openness. Arguing that individuals prevented from knowing their biological parents would be psychologically damaged, advocates of adoptees’ rights to access to records continue to valorize biological connections. Although Carp is critical of the unwarranted stigma of adoption and provides a wealth of data to show that adoptive families are as healthy as any others, he advocates moderation in terms of the movement for open access to records. For a variety of social, cultural, and personal reasons, secrecy may still be in the best interests of certain parties in the adoption triad, and it should be up to those individuals whether they wish to have their identities disclosed.

Carp’s study represents interdisciplinary history at its best. Although Carp’s interest in the process of change in adoption practices, and the reasons for the rise and fall in the practice of secrecy, makes the frame of the book distinctly historical, his sources and methods are broadly interdisciplinary. Few historians attempt the sort of field work that he pursued for this study. He took a leave of absence from his academic position at Pacific Lutheran University and, with the help of a fellowship, volunteered to work part-time at the Children’s Home Society of Washington. That effort at ethnographic research gave him access to thousands of adoption case records, and enabled him to gain an understanding of the adoption process from inside an agency that had been in the business of placing children for nearly a century. This research, combined with Carp’s thorough critical analysis of the literature from social workers, psychologists, journalists, and participants in the adoptive process, yielded a richly textured history that brings the story up to the present-day Adoption Rights Movement.

The book is written in clear, accessible prose. Carp tells an important, compelling story of tremendous interest to historians as well as anyone else who has participated in the adoption process. It will also appeal to general readers who will be moved and enlightened by his powerful analysis of how Americans think about families.