At precisely this point, Jana Mohr Lone’s article Philosophical Thinking in Childhood, which questions the relationship between philosophy and childhood, offers us an important perspective. Lone shows that children are not only individuals who are taught and guided; they are also subjects who can think on their own, question, and produce philosophically meaningful reflections.
Drawing on Lone’s text, this article presents an assessment of children’s philosophical potential and why that potential should be made visible.
When philosophy is mentioned, most people think of academic texts, complex concepts, and historical thinkers. But can children do philosophy as well? In Lone’s work, this question is addressed through both critical discussion and field-based examples. Her core argument is that children can not only ask philosophical questions, but also develop original thoughts around those questions.
There are criticisms of this view. For example, Kitchener (1990) and White (1992) argue that children’s capacities for critical thinking are limited and that they therefore cannot “do philosophy in the true sense.” Hayes (2015) takes an even harsher stance, describing philosophy activities for children as “education disguised as therapy” and claiming that philosophy can only be practiced through adult-level reading and discussion skills.
However, Lone questions most of these criticisms on both theoretical and practical grounds. According to her, the key issue is how we define “doing philosophy.” If we define philosophy solely as an activity performed within an academic tradition through established concepts, then children may not fit that definition. But if we understand philosophy as a mode of thinking that begins with curiosity, wonder, and conceptual questioning, then children become some of its most natural subjects. One of childhood’s most distinctive features is exactly this: asking questions about the world. Adults, by contrast, often focus on practical problems rather than questioning itself.
The examples Lone cites show that this discussion is not merely abstract. A seven-year-old child’s question about whether the universe is infinite is not just simple curiosity. It reaches beyond everyday life, questions the nature of concepts, and reflects an inner openness toward knowledge. As Matthews (1984) argues, these “pure moments of thought” challenge educational approaches that overlook children’s philosophical potential.
Many criticisms assume that children’s questions are merely part of relearning concepts. Lone challenges this as well: children ask questions not only because they do not know, but also to question what they already know. Questions such as “What is time?” and “What is God like?” are not rote learning attempts; they are efforts to explore meaning and scope.
For this reason, Lone argues that views claiming children cannot do philosophy are trapped in a narrow understanding that treats philosophy as a profession. Philosophy is not only dialogue among experts; it is part of being human and trying to make sense of ourselves and the world. The fact that this effort is so strong in childhood offers an interpretation more faithful to philosophy’s nature.
One of Lone’s strongest arguments is that children do not only ask philosophical questions; they also pursue them and arrive at original ideas. She calls this capacity the “philosophical self,” emphasizing that it appears spontaneously in childhood but is often systematically suppressed.
Children’s astonishment toward the world does not arise only from a desire to learn; it arises from a deeper need to question. Questions such as “What is nothingness?” “What is death?” and “If we lose a thought, where does it go?” are concerned with meaning rather than simple information. As Lone argues, these are early examples of abstract thinking and conceptual analysis. Adults sometimes dismiss such questions as naive or useless, but this perspective underestimates children’s epistemic capacity.
Gareth Matthews’s work is especially important here. In his dialogues with children, he closely observes their intellectual productivity and argues that these thoughts, even when they do not resemble adult logic, carry a form of originality. A child’s unease in the face of an infinite universe is not merely emotional; it is an ontological inquiry into human existence and place.
At this point Lone offers a pedagogical warning: to develop children’s philosophical potential, we should not evaluate them by academic philosophy norms, but create environments that support their capacities. Under the label of philosophy education, the goal should not be only to teach what major philosophers thought, but to allow children to generate thought from their own experiences.
Despite this, education systems often suppress this side of children. Space for philosophical thinking is either very limited or functionally ineffective. According to Lone, this suppresses not only children’s intellectual potential but also their existential potential. When children receive the message “grow up first, then think,” philosophy becomes an abstract adult activity.
Yet childhood is when thought is freshest. Lone’s examples reveal not only what children think, but how they think. For children, philosophical questions are not an intellectual game; they are a way of making sense of the world and themselves.
Philosophical thinking is not only analyzing concepts or seeking logical consistency; it is also the courage to confront what we do not know and remain open to possibilities. Lone describes this capacity as “epistemic openness.” She argues that this openness is more widespread and natural in children than in adults.
Epistemic openness has two key dimensions. The first is humility toward one’s own beliefs and thoughts. The second is the courage to consider ideas that seem unusual, disturbing, or even impossible. In this sense, children can often think without feeling burdened by not knowing. Unlike adults, they are not ashamed when their ideas are challenged and do not fear producing “absurd” ideas.
In one classroom discussion Lone describes, children discuss whether it is possible to create a completely new idea, inspired by Dr. Seuss’s The Lorax. The discussion quickly turns into philosophical inquiry about imagination, reality, and the nature of thought. One student says children have more imagination because they do not yet fully know the world and can therefore think more freely.
Another concept linked to the philosophical dimension of imagination is play. According to Lone and Gopnik, when children play, they do not merely entertain themselves; they try on different identities, transform objects, create stories, and move between reality and possibility. Philosophical thinking requires similar flexibility.
In another classroom example, children discuss the question: “Does everything have a right to live?” They consider not only humans and animals but even insects such as mosquitoes. A child’s remark that “mosquitoes may think they are the most important beings in the world” shows not only empathy but also the ability to shift philosophical perspective.
These discussions show how vividly children engage with the philosophical premise that things may not be as they appear. This mental flexibility, which stretches daily life and fixed concepts, is rare in adults. Children, not yet fully aligned with the rules of what is considered normal, have an advantage in thinking beyond those norms.
Lone also emphasizes the “vulnerability” involved in philosophical thinking. Children are vulnerable when sharing their thoughts, but this vulnerability does not silence them; it often makes them more open to questioning and learning.
For children, philosophy is not merely an instrumental activity for future skills; it is also meaningful in itself and directly enriches lived experience. Lone clearly distinguishes these two dimensions: philosophy teaches children how to think, and also makes thinking itself a valuable way of living.
Philosophical inquiry strengthens children’s critical thinking, empathy, analytical evaluation, and self-expression. Lone cites a long-term study conducted in Scotland (Topping & Trickey, 2007): after weekly one-hour philosophical discussions with children aged 10-12, meaningful improvements were observed in verbal, numerical, and abstract reasoning tests, and the gains remained even two years later.
Although such studies show academic benefits, Lone’s main point is deeper: philosophical education succeeds when children are allowed to use their own curiosity, wonder, experiences, and questions. Its success depends less on curriculum and more on whether children’s voices are genuinely heard.
Lone also stresses that philosophy itself gains from children’s perspectives. Children’s original approaches refresh the discipline. Childhood is less constrained by adult fixed patterns and biases, allowing surprising and deep alternatives on concepts such as justice, goodness, and friendship.
As Alison Gopnik puts it, childhood is “a phase where the magical is possible” (2009: 241). In this phase, children do not only repeat what they know; they imagine what does not yet exist. This contributes positively to the creative dimension of philosophical thought.
Another crucial point in Lone’s argument is that children are not only future adults. Their current experiences, thoughts, and questions are already meaningful in themselves. Treating philosophical education for children merely as preparation devalues their present contributions.
Today, philosophy is often seen as overly specialized, technical, and exclusionary. Yet philosophical conversations with children remind us that philosophy begins with wonder, questioning, and trying to understand. Children are innate subjects of that process. Their contribution is not just simplified questions; they often reveal dimensions adults fail to notice.
April 23 National Sovereignty and Children’s Day reminds us to listen to children’s voices. Children are not only beings in need of protection; they are also individuals who can contribute to thought. Thinking philosophy with children means returning to philosophy’s core. For this reason, connecting philosophical thinking with childhood and including children through programs and activities is crucial not only for their development but also for philosophy’s own renewal and its connection with social life.
Prepared by: Murat Berkay Ozbek, Ahmet Er
Note: This text is based on Jana Mohr Lone’s article “Philosophical Thinking in Childhood.”
See: Jana Mohr Lone, Philosophical Thinking in Childhood, in Gheaus, A., Calder, G., & De Wispelaere, J. (Eds.), The Routledge Handbook of the Philosophy of Childhood and Children (1st ed.). Routledge, 2018.
https://doi.org/10.4324/9781351055987