The Playground Is Public Health Infrastructure
A few weeks ago, I walked past a playground in the middle of a housing estate that had clearly seen better days. The surfacing was worn, several pieces of equipment were taped off, and there was more litter than laughter. What struck me most, though, was how empty it was.
Not because children no longer want to play outside. Quite the opposite.
A little further down the road, children were riding scooters in circles around a small patch of pavement while exhausted parents tried to keep them away from traffic. The desire to play was still there. The infrastructure to support it properly was not.
We often talk about playgrounds as if they are a pleasant community extra. Something nice to have if budgets allow. But after more than 20 years working in child development and play, I’ve become increasingly convinced that we are thinking about them in entirely the wrong way.
Playgrounds are not simply recreational spaces.
They are public health infrastructure.
And if we continue treating them as optional, we will keep paying for that decision elsewhere.
Much of modern childhood has quietly shifted indoors. Children have less freedom than previous generations to roam, explore and play independently. Parents are navigating genuine concerns around traffic, safety and social pressures. Streets feel busier. Public spaces often feel less welcoming to children. Many families have little or no outdoor space at home.
Tim Gill, one of the UK’s leading thinkers on children’s play and mobility, has written extensively about how childhood has become increasingly constrained by adult anxiety and risk aversion. His work on children’s independent mobility highlights something many parents instinctively recognise: children’s worlds have shrunk dramatically over the last few decades. Rethinking Childhood
That matters more than many policymakers realise.
Historically, children played everywhere. Streets, green spaces, verges, empty land, cul-de-sacs and communal areas all formed part of children’s everyday worlds. Play was embedded into daily life.
Today, children are often only allowed to play in designated places.
That means the quality of those spaces matters enormously.
When we reduce investment in playgrounds, remove playable public spaces or design neighbourhoods primarily around cars and efficiency, we are not simply reducing leisure opportunities. We are reducing opportunities for physical activity, social interaction, confidence-building, independence and emotional regulation.
We are shrinking childhood.
One of the things I find frustrating in public debate is how often children’s wellbeing is discussed almost entirely through the lens of services and interventions. More support services. More programmes. More treatment pathways.
Of course, those things matter. But we spend surprisingly little time asking whether we are creating environments that naturally support healthier development in the first place.
Children are designed to move. To climb. To spin. To test themselves. To socialise informally. To experience manageable risk. These are not optional developmental extras. They are fundamental to how children learn about themselves and the world around them.
I often see this firsthand when observing children at play. The equipment itself is only part of the story. What really matters is what children do around it.
The child carefully judging whether they are brave enough to jump from one platform to another. The group negotiating whose turn it is. The younger child watching an older one and deciding to try something new. The parent gradually stepping back as confidence grows.
These moments look small. Developmentally, they are anything but.
Dinah Bornat, architect and author of All to Play For, has done important work highlighting how child-friendly design benefits entire communities, not just children. Her research consistently points to the importance of designing neighbourhoods that allow children greater independence, mobility and access to public space. RIBA – Dinah Bornat neighbourhood design paper
That distinction is important because truly child-friendly places are usually better places for everyone.
When children are visible in public space, communities tend to feel safer and more connected. Parents meet informally. Older residents interact with younger families. Streets feel lived in rather than simply passed through.
A busy playground is often a sign that a community itself is functioning well.
Conversely, when children disappear from public life, communities lose something important socially as well as developmentally.
This is why the conversation around play spaces needs to move beyond simply installing equipment and hoping for the best. Good playground design requires expertise, long-term thinking and a proper understanding of how children actually play.
Across the UK, there are many organisations and professionals working hard to raise standards in this area. Through my work with the Association of Play Industries, I regularly see the level of care, research and technical expertise that goes into creating spaces that are not only safe, but genuinely inclusive, engaging and durable enough to serve communities well over many years.
The best playgrounds are not always the most expensive or visually impressive. Often, they are the spaces that feel welcoming to a wide range of children and families, offer different levels of challenge, and continue to evolve through repeated play rather than becoming boring after one visit.
We also need to be honest about the role fear now plays in how we design for children.
Over the years, I’ve seen many playgrounds become increasingly sanitised. Lower platforms. Less challenge. Fewer opportunities for exploration. Risk assessments that sometimes seem designed to remove any possibility of uncertainty.
Of course safety matters. No one sensible is arguing otherwise.
But children do not develop resilience by never encountering challenge. They develop it by encountering challenge in environments that are broadly supportive and proportionate.
There is a significant difference between danger and risk.
Danger is something a child cannot reasonably anticipate or manage. Risk is the process of learning to assess situations, test limits and build competence. Good playgrounds help children practise that safely.
The most thoughtful play providers understand this balance well. The goal is not reckless design, but spaces that allow children to stretch themselves physically, socially and emotionally in ways that are developmentally healthy.
Ironically, when children are denied opportunities to build judgement gradually, we may end up making them less resilient rather than more protected.
The economic argument for investment in play spaces is also stronger than many decision-makers acknowledge.
We know physical inactivity carries major long-term health costs. We know social isolation and poor mental wellbeing are rising concerns among children and young people. We know opportunities for outdoor play are associated with higher physical activity levels and improved wellbeing.
Yet playground funding is still often treated as a soft target during budget pressures because the benefits are viewed as intangible or long term.
But prevention always looks expensive until you compare it with the cost of dealing with problems later.
The irony is that playgrounds are one of the few pieces of public infrastructure specifically designed to support healthy human development from the start.
Few people would suggest removing pavements because walking is good for us “in theory” but difficult to quantify financially in the short term. Yet we often apply exactly that logic to children’s play spaces.
What worries me most is that we are in danger of designing children out of public life altogether.
Tim Gill has used the phrase “children are an indicator species for cities”, borrowed from urbanist Enrique Peñalosa. The idea is simple: if a city works well for children, it generally works well for everyone. UK Parliament evidence submission referencing Tim Gill and Enrique Peñalosa.
I think there is a great deal of truth in that.
A society that values childhood creates places where children can move, play, socialise and gradually build independence. A society that sees children primarily as problems to manage tends to create sterile, fragmented and disconnected environments for everyone.
Playgrounds alone will not solve the challenges facing children today. But dismissing them as trivial misses their real function entirely.
They are not luxuries.
They are part of the social, developmental and public health infrastructure that healthy communities depend upon.