Thursday, December 27, 2018

Imagination in a techie world



Owl and Owlette: The little purple object on the table is an electronic toy owl that evolves with its owner's care and attention. The caped figure at the table is my grandniece Emi, dressed as Owlette from the  PJ Masks kids' series. The question I ask is, what is left to the imagination in the modern world?


Another view of the Owlette costume, which transforms the wearer into s super-hero. Emi had to be convinced it didn't mean she could really fly.


Emi and Aya draw the owl, sitting on the table.

Psychologists and toymakers have probably been hashing this out for years, but the question that arose for me this Christmas was, what happens to children’s imaginations in an era where technology leaves nothing to the imagination?

When a TV series about children who transform into super-heroes results in ready-made costumes replicating those of the heroes exactly? When an electronic toy owl needs 30 minutes of stroking and cuddling to “hatch” out of its shell, then continuous more-of-the-same to evolve and develop to different levels? Its eyes change colour – red, blue, green, yellow, purple – to telegraph its needs, and it whirs and whines and beeps to make sure you’re paying attention.

I thought: About the old story that kids often have more fun with the boxes that toys come in than the toys themselves. About the ragged hand-me-downs in our childhood costume box, and how one “bejeweled” sheer white blouse met all our needs for elegance (it was a grand bridal veil!) About the “reality” toy of my era being a doll with a hole in the mouth and another at the other end, out of which water would pour if you gave it a drink.  I remembered conjuring a tropical jungle out of an ordinary prairie slough, a figure-skating arena out of a frozen patch in the back yard, a theatre out of the living room.

I do not know the answer to my opening question. Children may be more imaginative than ever, spurred on by all the input from the electronic world around them. Certainly my four-year-old grandniece is not lacking in imagination: Santa Claus became real for her this year, and it took some talking before she was convinced that her new super-hero owl costume wouldn’t enable her to fly.  But I wonder about the gap between reality and fantasy being whittled down so narrowly. Where is the space for invention to soar?

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