Thought for the Day, 25 October 2007

Anne Atkins

If this were a discussion about justice, we might have considerable reservations about children sitting in judgement on their peers. Among the essential characteristics of justice are objectivity and authority, which children can't possibly be expected to demonstrate. What kind of Lord of the Flies anarchy do we want, putting such weighty responsibility onto such slim shoulders?

In terms of society's relationship with its young, however, the scheme being piloted in Pre-ston this week has much to recommend it.

Children need two seemingly opposing things: both freedom and protection. It is far too easy to patronise children, marginalise them, ignore their views and simply not listen to them. Human history tells this tale over and over again, and we can surely all remember it from our own childhood. Because children are smaller and more vulnerable than the rest of us, we like to think they are less important, less interesting, or have less intelligent in-sights to share - when the truth is that they look at the world with fresh eyes, and often see what we miss. So an exercise in which their views are canvassed, their solutions offered and their influence with their own age group harnessed, seems an excellent idea to me.

But they are still children. Thankfully our laws continue to reflect this. We prohibit them from many activities which the rest of us are permitted, and we do so entirely with their welfare in mind. Sex, smoking, work, drinking, marrying without parental consent, having a say in the body politic... all these are denied them until a certain age. Not because we don't value them, but because we do. We know they're weaker than we are, so our love makes us spare them such responsibilities.

Every good parent is torn between these two contrary and conflicting impulses. You let your children loose to play on the beach, delight in seeing them running in and out of the waves, feel joy in their independence and pride that they can swim unaided... and then with unimaginable horror, see them sucked under the water and realise the tide is pulling them out to sea. Suddenly, the protective urge takes over.

It seems so easy for the rest of us to blame parents for letting their children go. Have you noticed that we're far more likely to criticise for too much leeway than too little?

Even God doesn't escape our censure. How can He love us, yet allow us so much pain? How can He let us hurt each other, and ourselves, so badly - so that we ruin the planet, cause starvation, wage war on one another and pollute the earth? Why? Because the al-ternative is so restrictive that we'd never grow up.

Every parent, even God, has to love and let go. Every parent takes a terrible risk when he does so. And - though happily most of us never face this - every parent, even God, is pre-pared to pay the ultimate price to protect. We can't help it. If you saw your child in danger, wouldn't you throw your life away without question too?