When Toys Influence Careers

Picture if you will, the following prehistoric scene. Inside a cave, a Neanderthal family gathers to celebrate the fifth birthday of their eldest child, a boy. After blowing on his cake (there are no candles; fire hasn’t been discovered yet), the excited lad opens his presents. There’s a Tamagotchi rock from his brother, a pencil case made of triceratops hide from his sister, and, best of all a hunting kit from his parents.

That last item comprises a small wooden club and a stuffed toy in the shape of a prehistoric wild boar. The young lad has hours of fun creeping up on the stuffed toy, and then pouncing on it and clobbering it with the club. By the time the sorry Suidae is consigned to the dustbin, having burst open and lost its stuffing, its owner has inadvertently developed basic hunting skills that will come in useful in adulthood.

Dressing the part

Many millennia later, adult humans still bestow gifts upon their young children that introduce them to roles they might take a liking to and investigate further when they leave school. During those play sessions, possible future careers are explored, not least by dressing the part, and as a child I pulled on my share of career-based costumes

Over a series of childhood Christmases, I unwrapped a US cavalryman uniform, a fireman set with helmet and hatchet, and a bus conductor kit, complete with a peaked cap, money satchel, and ticket machine. With the last of those, I hassled the life out of family members on Christmas morning as I issued tickets, all the while barking out, in the tone of authority that comes through wearing an official cap, utterances I’d picked up via my own experience of bus rides, namely fares please, room for one more on top, and have you got nothing smaller? Mr Benn had nothing on me.

At that time I also received a chocolate smokers’ kit, containing a selection of tobacco-related products; pipe, cigars, and a book of matches, all moulded in a particularly delicious brand of chocolate.

That smoking kit was somewhat out of kilter with other playthings that imitated adult activities, for while a child’s football kit, toy typewriter, junior carpentry set, and nurse uniform each had the potential to ignite a spark in the young mind that might result in a career, I doubt many parents had aspirations for their child to grow up to be a smoker.

Looking back from today’s more health-conscious standpoint, it’s unthinkable that an activity that is so detrimental to health was pushed onto young children. Perhaps manufacturers could have put their efforts into producing more appropriate toys to prepare children for tasks they would face in adulthood.

Cut-throat razor

Had they been around, I expect the Sweeney Todd Junior Shaving Kit would have comprised a small mirror, shaving brush, soap, plastic cut-throat razor, towel, after-shave lotion, and a packet of cigarette papers for those nicks. Young Johnny could go through the motions of having a shave, before splashing on cologne, patching up the nicks, and then heading downstairs for refreshments at My First Cocktail Bar, where he would have bartender Jerry shake up a Manhattan.

And so it goes, very much in the manner of our prehistoric forbear with his hunting kit. A child can discover what type of work he or she may be suited to via an array of playthings. For example, young Johnny didn’t like the child’s carpentry set, and he couldn’t get away with the policeman kit, but he did demonstrate enthusiasm for the junior chemistry set.

What as kids we thought of as exciting toys and gadgets were sometimes devices that might help mould our futures. But I don’t mean mould in a negative brainwashing way, because ultimately pretending to be an adult is all about fun.

A latter-day equivalent of the prehistoric hunting kit is the miniature vacuum cleaner. During my childhood, such toys were viewed by some as mere devices to prepare the child for a lifetime of domestic drudgery. These days, dragging the mini Henry from the cupboard and doing the vacuuming together as a parent-and-child team is a fun way to turn a household chore into a shared experience.

And who doesn’t smile when they see a child, often carrying an air of authority akin to that of the aforementioned bus conductor, pushing one of those mini shopping carts around the supermarket?

Humans and dinosaurs

And long may it continue because, as they say, the child is father to the man, and sometimes those toys we enjoy as kids can influence a career path in later life. To return to our friend Johnny, from the humble genesis of a chemistry set he embarked on a career in science, and he went on to become an esteemed anthropologist.

Indeed, he recently wrote an essay that criticised the irritating insistence of some writers to depict humans and dinosaurs as having lived together, when they never actually coexisted on the planet.

Still, if it’s good enough for The Flintstones…

Footnote

The photo accompanying this piece is of a fancy dress procession from a holiday camp on the Yorkshire coast. I am immediately behind the jockey, supposedly dressed as a Sheik, going under the title Fry’s Turkish Delight, after the chocolate bar. I actually won won that competition, and spent the five shillings (25p) prize on a plastic London taxi.