A Wolf named ‘Safety’

Risk and the Cotton Wool Kids

I’m alone, about seven years old.

I’m about to enter one of the most thrilling playgrounds I know, and I’m certain you knew it too. 

The local building site!

There are diggers, buckets and machines.

It’s weekend and no-one is working.

The wooden frames of the insides of the new houses, look invitingly like the barley sugar-coloured beams we have in PE.

There are sturdy breeze blocks to step on to, drops to navigate…..

The vehicles are parked up - chain wearing giants sleeping in sand and gravel.

It smells of sawdust, fresh earth and best of all….danger!

I explore - ensuring there are no adults in sight - before embracing this grown-up world of slop and brick as my very own, as I’ve done time and time before.

I’m balancing, jumping, judging distance and height. 

My heart is leaping, tummy tightening. I’m a pirate walking the plank or maybe a tightrope walker at the circus!

My limbs contort and my eyes flicker with possibility.

It starts to rain. 

I slip, stumble and fall into what I imagine is cement.  It’s a similar texture to mud.

Suddenly, my feet are squelching then sinking. I can’t pull my welly out! There’s no-one around so I make a decision there and then, to wriggle my feet free of the boots and leave them behind. I hoist myself on to scaffolding, and hobble home, wet socks sliding off my toes as fairy tale gnome hats. 

I arrive home, full of dirt, grazes, and “what if…”

It had felt dangerous.

It had felt wonderful. 

It was an 80’s childhood that would never happen today.

I could relay to you several stories like this.

About derelict houses, graveyards and dens.

About parks with teeth of broken glass, long metal tongue slides and witches’ hat roundabouts.

About running away from strangers in the woods, discovering ‘treasure’, coming face to face with crazed dogs.

About playing without adults and making decisions alone or with similar aged friends.

It wasn’t a safe space.

And that’s precisely why it worked.

Because the world isn’t.

Risk is being systematically airbrushed from our lives and it all started with childhood.

Several societal changes set the groundwork.

Before the Second World War, childrens’ play had remained relatively unchanged for decades in its composition.

We’re all familiar with the photographs of kids playing in alleys with stilts made from tin cans, hopscotch grids scrawled with stones, skipping ropes.

This unstructured recreation, together with what I’ll refer to as ‘pack em off for the day’ play as documented in ‘Famous Five’ books, had been popular for of a number of reasons:

Greater trust in people

Communities were close knit and as such, people cared and invested in each other’s wellbeing.

Less traffic

A child was less likely to be hit by a car because there were none (or in the early days, fewer).

A more modest media

Without a television in most homes, families were largely unaffected by fear mongering.

Busy adults

Regardless of whether both parents worked, children were not there to be entertained. Household chores in a world before supermarkets and white goods, took up a great deal of time. What’s more, there were no soft play centres and few playgrounds. This meant that kids had little choice other than to ‘get on with it’ and make their own fun.

As social mobility grew after the Second World War, communities began to fracture as those with aspirations moved away from their roots. Naturally, this impacted on perceived danger, because not only were there more strangers in town, but also more traffic.

As this was happening, modern conveniences such as washing machines meant there was suddenly more time available for children. Time to hover over them a little more.

The decades that followed, brought a dramatic rise in families in which both parents worked, leading to legislative changes and guidelines around childcare. Adhoc arrangements among friends and neighbours were discarded in favour of formal and often more sterile provisions offered by private nurseries and registered childminders.

Such environments eroded opportunities for free play, creating instead, heavily formatted educational experiences that served adult interests such as ‘being school ready’.

As these changes took effect, the lawsuit culture of the US also began to seed itself, resulting in the tightening of ‘health and safety’.

The impact?

We stopped trusting kids to get on with play. We introduced and celebrated a new ‘helicopter’ culture.

Playgrounds were stripped of equipment that had laid there for years. Rubber matting was placed under swings. Gates and fences were added. Signs were erected. CCTV installed.

Physical risk began to be eradicated.

Alongside this, came the rise of ‘stranger danger’ - thanks to the over publicising of child murders. A generation of parents now felt uncomfortable allowing their children the same freedoms their own childhoods had been afforded. Child murders of course, had always occurred, but now cases were sensationalised and on TV in our living room every night.

The message was clear.

Allowing your child to indulge in free play, outside with minimal supervision was irresponsible and to be avoided.

Private enterprise was quick to offer a solution to the problem of the bored child, whilst appeasing parental appetite for safety.

Game consoles took over from playing outside as *the thing kids did* after school.

Adventure playgrounds, high ropes experiences and forest schools sprang up like mushrooms. Sanitised and often exclusive versions of the original.

But both our bodies and souls knew the difference.

They were - and remain - ‘rola colas’ to our ‘real thing’.

Much is made of ‘safe spaces’, but these are bevelled edged bites of air, devoid of the opposition children need to rear up against.

We seek to imitate what we know is missing but ‘planning for risk’ is at odds with risk.

Natural consequences cannot be accurately replicated because they arise from real situations and spontaneity.

The first generation of these ‘cotton wool kids’ now have children of their own and the tentacles of the nanny state delve ever deeper.

It’s no longer just about keeping us safe from possible dangers, but also nudging how we think. “What should I do if…” is now a frequent feature of news shows.

A culture of ‘for your own good’ gnaws ever deeper into our everyday lives. To the point we are not presented with free choice, but menus - if it ain’t on there, you ain’t having it.

But hey, kids, go ‘build a better nothing burger’.

We do not build courage and resilience with protection, but rather immersion.

Self sufficient adults happen when children are given opportunity and space to exercise their own judgement.

The reason we resist this is because we know there will be casualties.

Just as some birds fall out of nests, some children will meet the big bad wolf and sadly, not return home.

But I’d remind you of the trade off.

There is another wolf.

A greedier wolf that preys on self-confidence, capability and curiosity.

A wolf named ‘Safety’.

And he is a more dangerous wolf.

He calls himself ‘Safety’ but he fills his belly on your fear and worries for your children.

His appetite is immense.

A wolf that wanders without harassment looking like a kindly grandma.

It’s hard to take issue with ‘A wolf named Safety’, isn’t it?

After all, who doesn’t want ‘Safety’ in their neighbourhood?

He says all the right things.

‘Safety’ - who rubber mats the playground so your child’s fall is cushioned……..or stops them learning the best way to land?

‘Safety’ - who saves your child from misinformation on the internet…….or exposure to alternative views?

‘Safety’ - who stops your child from meeting sinister strangers…….or builds paranoia about EVERY stranger?

‘Safety’ - who has a ‘just in case’ preventative jab for illnesses…….they’ll probably never get.

There will always be danger.

There will always be wolves.

But creating our own wolves and allowing them to prey on the dreams and freedoms of our children ‘for their own good’, is surely the greatest risk society ever took.