By faithadminRecently, I read The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt, and it got me reflecting on how much childhood has changed—and about the rise in anxiety among young people today. Haidt describes a shift from a “play-based childhood” to what he calls a “phone-based childhood.” As both an educator and a parent, I see the effects of this shift all around me. It makes me wonder: are our kids missing out on something essential? How can we create more space for real play, both at school and at home?
Growing up, play was simple and free. When I told my parents, “I’m bored,” their response was always, “Well, go outside and play.” That was it: no guidance, no structure. I had to figure it out. Once outside, boredom quickly turned into creativity. We’d build cubbies in the bush, climb trees, or ride bikes around the neighbourhood until the streetlights came on. I still remember piecing together a makeshift billy cart with my friend, using scraps from her dad’s shed, and then racing it down the steepest street we could find. There were no adults supervising; it was just us, learning through trial and error and the occasional scraped knee or split lip. That freedom was everything.
When my eldest daughter was young, she experienced something similar. At the time, we lived in a mining town in Arnhem Land in the Northern Territory. Our street was a cul-de-sac that became a shared playground for all the local kids. They’d spend entire afternoons building treehouses, making waterslides out of plastic sheeting and detergent, and inventing games with whatever they could find. There was a strong sense of community and trust, and like in my own childhood, they were largely left to explore on their own terms. They learned to handle boredom, navigate friendships, and solve their own problems.
But when we moved to the city, this freedom started to disappear. Letting kids play unsupervised was no longer the norm, and parents who allowed it often faced judgment. More organised and supervised activities replaced the spontaneous neighbourhood play that felt so natural in Arnhem Land. Kids were no longer running in and out of each other’s homes or exploring the neighbourhood without a watchful eye. It felt as though some of that easy connection and independence had been lost.
By the time my youngest daughter came along, her childhood looked different again. Screens had become a major part of daily life, and her play often centred around devices. Haidt calls this a “phone-based childhood,” where screens, social media, and digital games are part of everyday life. She would message friends, play online games, and spend much of her time indoors. While technology has its benefits, it was such a different experience from the open, unstructured play her sister and I had enjoyed. There was less room for the kind of creativity and self-direction that comes from finding your own way through boredom and figuring out your own fun.
Haidt suggests that this shift from play-based to phone-based childhood can have deeper effects on children’s mental and emotional development. Without unstructured play, kids miss out on essential chances to develop resilience, creativity, and social skills. They’re less likely to experience the natural independence and problem-solving that come from real-world play. Haidt’s work also highlights how too much screen time can intensify pressures around social comparison, which can lead to increased anxiety and feelings of inadequacy, especially for girls. For boys, gaming can offer a sense of accomplishment but often at the expense of real-world friendships and face-to-face interactions.
As a teacher, I see the tremendous value of technology in learning. Digital tools can open doors for creativity, research, and collaboration in the classroom. But I also wonder if we’re giving enough time and space for kids to experience play in its simplest form, play that’s screen-free, open-ended, and child-directed. Are we, as a society, providing enough balance?
What if we carved out more time for unstructured play both at school and at home? Could encouraging kids to spend more time offline help them develop the independence and creativity that so many of us experienced growing up outdoors, creating our own games and learning through hands-on discovery? Maybe this doesn’t mean giving up technology but finding a balance that makes space for both.
These are just questions, but they feel worth exploring. It’s not about choosing one approach over the other but about blending both. By finding a balance between screen time and real playtime, both in the classroom and at home, we can help our kids experience the joy, freedom, and growth that come from a truly play-based childhood.
Kate Hofstee
Deputy Head of Primary School