Kindness Fatigue in the Kids'
Section
In October 2024, Cheeky Kiki
Learns to Be Kind by Kim Burns arrived, adding one more book to the
ever-growing list of children's titles extolling the virtues of being kind. In
2025 alone, we’ve seen Nuggets of Hope: Cultivate Kindness by Kim
Lengling and two titles by Egor Klopenko — The Book of Kindness, a poetic
36-page journey with illustrations by Ksenia Panteleeva, and The Great
Magician, which also spins kindness into its plot. All these books are
well-intentioned. But as a reader, a parent, and someone observing this
literary trend, I can’t help but wonder — are we overdoing it?
Kindness has become a keyword in
children’s publishing. It’s the new "magic," the new
"adventure," the new "friendship." However, unlike those
more open-ended themes, kindness in these books often comes packaged as a
conclusion, rather than a discovery. The structure is predictable: a child is
rude or selfish, something teaches them a lesson, and by the end, they’re
glowing with goodness. Rinse, repeat.
The problem isn’t the value itself
— the world needs more compassion, and children should grow up with empathy.
But when every second book begins to sound like a moral sermon — often in
pastel colors and sugary rhymes — we risk turning kindness into noise. Even
children can experience fatigue when the message starts to feel forced.
Additionally, genuine kindness
isn’t always sweet. It can be inconvenient, confusing, and even lonely. That’s
something most of these books don’t address. Most kindness stories avoid
complexity to keep things clear, assuming young readers need everything
explained simply. But children aren’t one-dimensional. They can handle nuance,
humor, and even contradiction. Why not tell a story where kindness is
misunderstood or where it takes courage to stand alone?
There’s another risk: performative
empathy. In a time when adult social media relies on “feel-good” content and
corporate compassion, that same vibe influences what we give to kids. These
books might be more soothing for the adults reading aloud than truly
eye-opening for the child listening. They make us feel like we’re
raising better humans. But moral lessons, no matter how lovely the
illustrations, can’t replace modeled behavior or genuine conflict resolution.
This overproduction also speaks to
the anxiety of modern parenting. Surrounded by rising violence, bullying,
digital distractions, and divisive politics, we reach for the antidote —
kindness — and serve it in digestible doses. But by doing so repeatedly, in
similar forms, we forget that stories are not just vehicles for values. They
are places for imagination, messiness, mischief, contradiction — everything
children experience.
What we need now is a shift. Not
fewer books about kindness, but better books — ones where kindness
isn’t the answer to every problem, but a question explored. Stories where
characters aren't "fixed" by being kind, but where they stumble, try,
and grow. Books that don’t instruct, but invite reflection. Because true
kindness doesn’t come from reading about it again and again — it comes from
moments when no one’s watching.
So maybe it’s time to give the
word a break. Let kids fall in love with stories first, and let the values
emerge naturally and quietly. That’s where kindness belongs — not just on the cover,
but between the lines.
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