Author’s note: this article was written shortly after news got out that Britt Allcroft, the aforementioned creator of  the original television series Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends, died at age 81. I would like to dedicate this article in honor of her legacy. May she rest in peace.

As a firefighter, fire prevention week at the local elementary school is one of the most rewarding aspects of the service. It is not only a benefit to the community as an opportunity to teach children simple yet vital life-safety concepts, but also grants one of every child’s biggest wishes: hopping inside a fire engine, looking at and even holding our equipment, blowing the siren, etc.–their screams of joy with all of these activities cannot be priced, because there simply isn’t anything like it. My experiences with these and other such events and interactions with kids have taught me that children are more intelligent than we give them credit for; furthermore, the questions they ask, while seemingly far out, aren’t as distant-from-reality as we often take them for.

So, if that’s the case, then why are so many children doing so poorly in education? Why do we seem so uncreative and uninspired? While I believe there are a number of different reasons why (and I’m sure many agree on a select subset), one major source is children’s entertainment. 

Let the reader understand that I don’t mean to be sanctimonious or rambleing about things “back in my time” or even going on a nostalgia trip; this phenomenon is still fairly recent, and the long-standing series I will use for this is one many know: Thomas the Tank Engine.

Thomas the Tank Engine: an Example

The origins of Thomas go back to 1945, when the Reverend Wilbur Awdry began publishing The Railway Series, stories about personified locomotives (engines) and their adventures. Each engine was unique, having different tales of folly and triumph, most often based on real-life events. Awdry’s stories found such success for a few reasons: his world-building, his story-telling, and his character developments. It would be easy to create a fantastic setting in a distant land, where conveniently everyone speaks the same language and has the same culture, but Awdry chose to ground his books as close to reality as possible, making a map of the Island of Sodor and its proximity to the real city of Barrow, England. Furthermore, the choice of talking steam engines doesn’t require an extreme capacity for imagination, as they and other machines similar to them are nearly life-like as is: sure, they don’t speak the king’s English, but I can say with certainty, for example, that the fire engines in our fleet have their own definite quirks and personalities.

When Britt Allcroft adapted The Railway Series for television in 1984, she chose to focus on Thomas the Tank Engine, a suitable main character who is one of the smallest and cheekiest of the engines of the railway, not unlike the children watching the show. A key element that stayed the same between the original stories  and Allcroft’s adaptation was one method in particular, as described by series narrator George Carlin: the morals of each story “weren’t blatant…they were gently massaged into the framework of the show.” While stories such as Æsop’s Fables are important for teaching obvious lessons, children will eventually be disconnected from constantly drilling morals into them; Allcroft recognized Awdry’s skill in creating narratives where the young reader can derive the moral for himself, treating children with a level of respect and expectation that they can assume naturally. Even down to the music, the show was imbued with writing genius; one gentleman remarked how accomplished peers in the music industry give credit to the original soundtrack of the series for inspiring in them a love of classical music.

Unfortunately, the show’s target demographic later shifted to babies, and the storytelling suffered as the program was dumbed down, abandoning realism for pure fantasy. Lessons were still being taught, but rather than inviting kids to derive them on their own, the new stories rely on a rote formula that relentlessly spells out each moral, as if they were handed an order to have the broadest appeal by lowering standards. The show now has completely gone off the rails, and is not much more than silly adventures with a character who happens to be a train, all to sell merchandise.

Why it Matters

As an adult, all of this really shouldn’t affect me, so why bother writing about it? Because it’s our mission to help raise up the next generation to be better than ourselves, as they will one day be in charge. These children are at a critical point in their life for development, and while there is a plethora of good entertainment and influences they can have, there are now plenty of bad ones, too–not malicious, but insidious. 

Take Cocomelon, for example. The colors are oversaturated, a shot lasts at most a second, each episode is rapidly paced, and the content is repetitive. Overstimulating visuals and poor-quality storytelling don’t help child development–they are empty filler in its place. It doesn’t take a background in early childhood education to know this; parents need only watch it for themselves, and many have raised concerns as a result. 

Surely, you might retort, not everything out there is that bad. However, of what is available and popular, how much is good? It may or may not be flashy and colorful, but is it imparting meaningful lessons, such as the virtues of courage, empathy, and truth? Sing-alongs may be fun and entertaining for children, but most are nothing more than that: entertainment.

At the same time, not all stories from ages past are an easy fit for our times. They might assume familiarity with a contemporary context that no longer exists (have you had any grandparents eaten by wolves lately?), archaic vocabulary, or disturbing subject matter. I find the Brothers Grimm tales interesting, but I wouldn’t read many to children in their original form. This isn’t to say there aren’t lost treasures out there, but we can’t simply rest on the laurels of our forefathers. We have to take up their duty ourselves.

What We Can Do

Any article that bemoans an issue and offers no solution is just useless, so therefore, I propose to begin sharpening my skills for creative writing, particularly with this realm of work. A while back, some friends and I undertook such a task as a competition (some fruits of which may be enjoyed here); I learned much and intend to keep learning.

Of course, starting all on our own is a daunting task, so where we can’t rest on the laurels of the past, we can certainly learn from them. Even Rev. Awdry did not start in a vacuum. England is steeped in great writers of all sorts, and in the late 19th and the 20th centuries, had particularly excellent storytellers, such as George MacDonald, G. K. Chesterton, C. S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and of course Awdry himself, to name a few*. What did they have that worked so well?

First is a setting. This is obvious, but when the pen meets the paper, there is much more to it than just the place and time. Details woven in are key to building the set, and while you may not have to go to the lengths of the aforementioned (it is pretty fun though), even a historical account written for children will need the setting fleshed out clearly.

Next is developing likable and relatable characters; children want to see themselves in the story through the eyes of the protagonist, and making characters removed from their level alienates this. Not all of them need to be, but enough ought to be. A child can see themselves as Curdie or the Princess in MacDonald’s work, or the Pevensie children in the Narnia series by Lewis. Perhaps more mature children can relate to the Hobbits of the Shire, adventuring out into an unknown world and having the courage to do it. The engines of Sodor, despite being behemoths wrought of steel, are also very much in reach for young children, because much like them, there’s much to learn and a large world to explore.

Furthermore, Rev. Awdry wrote not only for children, but wrote in such a way that the parent whose fate it was to read the same favorite story night after night to their child would have something with substance, something laden with details and subtle humor that even the parents can appreciate. It shows that it’s a work of passion, not so much a pocket-liner.

Finally, to reiterate what was said above, the moral of the story shouldn’t be so vague to require explaining, or blatant as if very few may understand, but woven throughout the story, so that when the story reaches its end, the only room to nitpick are the fine details, but that ought to be left up to the child’s own imagination.

I have laid it out for myself to begin. I invite you to do the same. 

*It should be noted that abbreviating your first and middle name to make way for the last is not required for being a good author (c.f. George MacDonald), but is recommended for good measure.