You Are, Right Now, More Creative Than Any Child

On the Mythology of Children’s Creativity


It’s a statement made over and over again, all over the world, whenever creativity is discussed: “I mean, children, they’re so amazingly creative. And then we lose that. *Sigh*” The notion that children are exceptionally creative, plugged into some form of primal creative energy that we adults cannot tap into, is one that has become firmly embedded into our culture. Further, we reiterate it constantly, giving it credence simply through repetition. I mean, children, they’re so super-creative that you kinda have to, right?

Wrong. Just because a statement is popular and oft-repeated, this doesn’t mean that it’s true. The truth of the matter is:

Children are not all that creative.
In fact, even the dullest adult is more creative than the most hyper-imaginative kid.

This statement might surprise you. It’s surprising because we’ve heard the opposite so many times over that it has become true to us, and it is surprising because the mythology of the creative child is a delightful fantasy, one that makes it possible for us to think back to our younger, more creative selves. You know, before all those terrible teachers and bosses killed our spark. It is an understandable mythology, but it is a mythology nevertheless. Further:

The mythology of children’s creativity is part and parcel of how we misunderstand creativity more generally.

Our culture has romanticized and idealized creativity as one, magical thing, a spark or an energy that we often think is innate – such as in children. But this is in fact a very silly way to think of creativity. It assumes that creativity is just one mode of thinking, where it is a compounded mode, and it assumes there is only one skill to creativity, where there are in fact many.

To illustrate what I mean, consider the following test, one you can conduct and replicate in your own home. To gauge the creativity of one child versus one adult, I devised the following experiment:

As a proxy of creativity, let us take the capacity to devise a number of variations on one theme. To correct for the fact that the child has less technical skills than the adult (technical skills can here include things such as knife-skills, knowing how to use a belt-sander, and having worked with software), let us use a field wherein the child can conceivably compete with the adult. As a proxy, I have thus used “the creation of novel space monsters”. The creation of one such should here involve a) a quick sketch, b) naming, and c) a brief description why the monster is novel and unique.

Now, if children are indeed more creative than adults, the child should be able to devise an almost endless list of such monsters, one noticeably longer than the adult. The test should be done without time-limits, so as to correct for the possibility that the adult sketches faster than the child, something that isn’t necessarily a measure of creativity (although it may support the deployment of the same). What we are looking for is simply the capacity to generate ideas on a theme, where more monsters is assumed to approximate more creativity.

My test subject is an 8-year old child with an interest in space, monsters and space monsters. He is keen to participate in the experiment, particularly as cookies are provided to support the work. He is competing against me, and as my test subject is suspicious, I have promised not to extend myself trying to beat him. I am thus hampered by at least the following things in the experiment: a) the test is devised to be pleasant to the child, b) the field of the test is chosen along the interests and skills of the child, c) the child doesn’t have other pressing tasks such as laundry and deadlines, d) I am under some social pressure to not defeat the child, and e) I do not particularly like the cookies.

This should be a walkover for the kid. Either my boredom, my lack of imagination or my social limitations should guarantee him victory.

The test starts in a way that supports the thesis that children are more creative, as my first monster is a basic reptilian, whereas his consists entirely of human feces. Whilst biologically impossible, this poo-monster clearly shows a lack of inhibitions in the child, one that I may find difficult to replicate. However, the tables are immediately turned, as he then attempts a pee-monster, but gives up as he states “it’d just be water and couldn’t travel”. At this point I immediately sketch a containment suit for a sentient collection of liquid, effectively hi-jacking his idea and making it feasible (to the degree that a monster made out of human urine is feasible). Our competition continues.

Over time, a clear difference between our techniques emerge. After a strong start, my combatant gets stuck with monsters made out of unpleasant materials (which he quickly runs out of variations on), followed by a series of robots with only cosmetic differences. After a few attempts to replicate half-remembered things from children’s shows, he starts focusing more on the cookies. At this point, he has generated eight monsters, and this is counting generously. I have at this point generated no less than 20 monsters, many of quite an extreme nature – examples include a quasi-organic computer made out of minerals that can control its surroundings by getting insects to do its bidding, a gaseous collective of consciousnesses that can intermingle, a slug-like creature with four arms and two eye-tentacles, as well as a humanoid with six eyes, six arms, four legs, as well as a penis that doubles as a seventh arm (the latter detail amuses my test-subject to no end, and is Freudian beyond belief). The experiment has ended at this point, as the child is now engaged mainly in eating cookies and cheering me on.

What happened here? Some might say that this only proves that children lack the focus adults have, but I maintain that this is an error. What we see instead is the fact that although children have some advantages in creativity, these aren’t sufficient to claim that children are more creative than adults.

The test was, truth be told, stacked in my favor all along, but only insofar as I am more creative than a child – any child. This not due to my imagination (which, as I shall show, is a compound capacity rather than a singular one), nor anything particularly magical. I am better at devising space monsters than the child I competed with because I have a larger stock of inputs, knowledge and experiences to draw on, something a child cannot replicate.

I’ve followed science fiction for over 30 years. I’ve seen countless movies and TV-shows. I’ve read both fiction and non-fiction to an extent that a child can barely comprehend. I’ve read daily newspapers, surfed the internet, played computer games and traveled, all of which have given me a plethora of inputs and experiences. I have further experienced things such as inebriation, hard labor, sex, heartbreak and the thousand other natural shocks that flesh is heir to, all of which are (thankfully) outside of the understanding of the child.

Now, some might wonder what this has to do with creativity. Well, everything, basically. This, as creativity isn’t just the capacity to tap into some mystical force, but rather the combination of a series of separate if supportive element. To simplify (a lot), we might say that creativity consists of:

  • a stock of inputs, memories and the likes, which constitute the raw materials of creativity,
  • the capacity to tap into and utilize this stock, and from this combine or generate new ideas,
  • the lack of filters or inhibitions to stymie the process of doing this, and
  • the wherewithal to keep at it, either so that you work on devising more ideas or so that you improve upon the ones you’ve devised.

Now, children are very good at one of these things, namely #3. As demonstrated by the poo-monster, a child can very well think of things an adult would not. A child can request chocolate sauce to spice up his fish fingers, something an adult would struggle with. A child might attempt to drink shampoo or a non-premium gin, something any rightminded adult would never do and hopefully stop children from doing. In this, children are creative.

But adults are far better at all the remaining aspects of the creative process!

This is where the notion of e.g. experiences come into play. Yes, children can imagine very many things, but these are still rooted in their experiences. They may wish for chocolate sauce for their fish, but it is highly unlikely they would think of the possibility of using champagne as a spice, or space monsters consisting of compounds they have no knowledge of. They also have a lot of time on their hands, so may seem more astute at combining ideas, but this is a question of adults not always trying very hard, whereas children have the freedom to occupy their time with such matters.

As all adults have a larger stock of experiences than children, they have an innate and inalienable capacity for creativity that children simply cannot replicate. Simply thinking back to jobs you have held, unpleasant experiences in retail and your favorite movies you hold a far greater stock from which you can generate ideas than a child could ever dream of. The capacity of combine these is further not necessarily one where children will beat you, if you put your mind to it – variations in skill when it comes to idea generation through combinations can quite effectively be countered with work and/or a framework to aid you. To add insult to injury, such frameworks are readily available for pretty much all adults, yet often incomprehensible for children.

The mythology of children’s creativity is thus flawed in two ways. One, it mistakes children’s lack of inhibitions and assumes this shows innate creative skill. It does not, it only show a capacity for a certain kind of thinking, one which can and will mature with age. Two, it serves as a kind of handy excuse for adults not to engage with creativity – it becomes a smokescreen that allows us to slack of, creativity-wise.

Note that none of this is written in order to belittle children. I love children to no end, and dedicate a lot of my time to trying to understand them. I further appreciate the creative skills in children very much indeed.

But this, my appreciation of children’s creativity, is no reason to belittle adult such, as this, in the end, is far more developed.

So, let us not tell tall tales of any creativity – children’s or adult’s. Let us not fall into the trap of mythologizing children, but see them for what they are; delightful and imaginative thinkers in spe, on the road to a more fully formed creativity. Further, let us not use children as an excuse not to use the skills and the knowledge we’ve acquires. You, right now, are more creative than any one child. You have a responsibility to use this capacity, and not hide behind the limited flights of fancy of a child. Not when you, trying at least a little, could produce far more imaginative, fanciful things on your own.

Children do not show us what creativity is.
They show us how much we might do with it, if we put our minds to it.