Give a chimp and a four-year-old the same puzzle box. An adult demonstrates: tap the lid with a stick, slide the bolt, open. The tapping does nothing, and with a clear box you can see it does nothing.
The chimp drops the useless step and goes straight for the bolt. Every time.
The child taps the lid anyway. Even alone in the room.
It is called overimitation, and it turns up in children from Germany to the Kalahari. They copy the pointless step because they trust that we know something they can't see yet — and that trust is the reason human knowledge stacks across generations instead of starting over each time.
The efficient animal in that room is the chimp. The one who will inherit a civilisation is the child.
They are watching how we treat people, handle anger, keep our word. We don't have to teach it. We only have to live it in front of them.