A viral monkey, his plushie, and a 70-year-old experiment: what Punch tells us about attachment theory

In the endless scroll of short-form video, it takes something special to make millions of people pause. Recently, that something was a small monkey named Punch and his well-loved plush toy. In clip after clip, Punch clutches the stuffed animal as he naps, eats, and surveys the world. If it’s taken away, he searches for it anxiously. When it’s returned, he relaxes almost instantly.

Viewers call it adorable. Psychologists call it familiar.

Because long before Punch went viral, a controversial experiment in the 1950s changed how we understand love, comfort, and connection.

Harry Harlow and the science of comfort

In the mid-20th century, American psychologist Harry Harlow set out to answer a deceptively simple question: Why do infants bond with their mothers?

At the time, a dominant theory suggested that attachment was primarily about food. Babies bonded with caregivers because caregivers provided nourishment. Love, in this view, was a secondary byproduct of feeding.

Harlow wasn’t convinced.

Working with infant rhesus monkeys, he designed an experiment that would become one of the most famous—and ethically troubling—in psychology. Baby monkeys were separated from their biological mothers and given two artificial “surrogate mothers” instead:

One made of bare wire that held a milk bottle.

One covered in soft cloth but offered no food.

If attachment were purely about nourishment, the babies should have preferred the wire mother. She provided milk. Survival.

But that’s not what happened.

The infant monkeys overwhelmingly clung to the cloth mother. They would run to her when frightened, press themselves into her softness, and use her as a secure base from which to explore. They only approached the wire mother briefly to feed, then returned immediately to the comforting cloth.

Harlow called this need “contact comfort.” The findings suggested that warmth, softness, and emotional security were not luxuries. They were fundamental.

Enter Punch: a modern mirror

Punch’s plushie functions much like Harlow’s cloth surrogate.

When Punch grips his stuffed toy, he isn’t being dramatic or “spoiled.” He’s regulating himself. The plushie appears to serve as a transitional object—a term later popularized by psychoanalyst Donald Winnicott.

Winnicott described transitional objects as items (blankets, stuffed animals, soft toys) that help infants navigate the space between dependence and independence. They provide continuity and comfort when a caregiver isn’t physically present.

For human children, it might be a threadbare teddy bear. For Punch, it’s his plush companion.

The behavior resonates with us because we recognize it. Many adults still remember a childhood object that felt irreplaceable. Some even keep it tucked away decades later.

Attachment doesn’t disappear when we grow up. It evolves.

The birth of attachment theory

Harlow’s work didn’t exist in isolation. Around the same time, British psychiatrist John Bowlby was developing what would become attachment theory.

Bowlby proposed that humans are biologically wired to seek closeness to caregivers as a survival mechanism. A secure attachment—formed when caregivers are responsive and reliable—gives a child confidence to explore the world. Insecure attachments can emerge when caregiving is inconsistent, neglectful, or frightening.

Later, psychologist Mary Ainsworth expanded on Bowlby’s work with the “Strange Situation” experiment, observing how infants reacted when caregivers left and returned. She identified patterns we now know as secure, anxious, avoidant, and (later added) disorganized attachment styles.

If Punch panics when separated from his plushie and calms when reunited, the pattern mirrors the same regulatory system observed in human infants. The object becomes a stand-in for safety.

What Harlow demonstrated in monkeys gave biological weight to Bowlby’s theory in humans: attachment is not just about food. It’s about felt security.

The ethical shadow

It’s impossible to discuss Harlow’s experiments without acknowledging their cost. The infant monkeys experienced profound distress, and many developed severe behavioral issues. Modern ethical standards would not permit such procedures.

Yet the findings reshaped child-rearing norms.

Before Harlow and Bowlby, some parenting advice encouraged emotional distance. Too much holding was thought to spoil a child. Affection was to be rationed.

Today, we understand that touch, responsiveness, and emotional attunement are not indulgences. They are developmental necessities.

Punch’s plushie, viewed through this lens, becomes less of a cute accessory and more of a visible expression of a deep biological system.

Why we can’t look away

Why did Punch go viral?

Because his attachment is legible. When he clutches his toy, we see vulnerability. When he relaxes into it, we see relief. His tiny fingers gripping fabric trigger something ancient in us.

Humans are exquisitely attuned to attachment signals. Crying, clinging, reunion—these behaviors evolved to keep caregivers close. They pull at our nervous systems because they are designed to.

There’s also something poignant about watching attachment in another species. It reminds us that the need for comfort isn’t uniquely human. It’s mammalian. Possibly even more widespread.

Softness matters.

Attachment beyond infancy

Attachment theory doesn’t stop at childhood.

Research suggests that early attachment patterns can influence adult relationships. Securely attached individuals often find it easier to trust and depend on others. Anxiously attached individuals may fear abandonment. Avoidantly attached individuals may value independence to the point of emotional distance.

And transitional objects don’t always disappear.

Consider the adult who sleeps better in a partner’s hoodie. The traveler who brings a familiar pillow on long trips. The person who keeps a sentimental object in a drawer during stressful times.

These are echoes of the cloth mother.

Punch’s plushie is a reminder that comfort objects aren’t childish. They’re regulatory tools.

The paradox of independence

There’s a persistent cultural myth that strength means needing no one. But attachment theory suggests the opposite.

Secure attachment fosters independence.

When a child knows comfort is available, they explore more boldly. When a monkey feels safe, it ventures further from the surrogate. When an adult trusts their relationships, they take greater risks in the world.

Security doesn’t trap us. It frees us.

Punch gripping his plushie isn’t a sign of weakness. It may be what allows him to feel steady enough to engage with his surroundings.

What Punch teaches us

A viral monkey clutching a stuffed toy seems trivial at first glance. But beneath the cuteness lies a 70-year arc of psychological discovery.

Harlow’s cloth mother showed that contact comfort shapes attachment. Bowlby and Ainsworth mapped how those early bonds influence lifelong patterns. Winnicott illuminated the quiet power of transitional objects.

Punch, unknowingly, demonstrates all of it in real time.

He tells us that attachment is embodied. That softness regulates fear. That security is foundational.

And perhaps most importantly, he reminds us that the need to hold—and be held—is not a flaw in our design.

It is the design.