We tell children that their voice matters. Then we fill every hour of their day with our agenda, and wonder why they have nothing left to say.

The solution to the play crisis is not complicated. It is just inconvenient for the systems that caused it. Give children time. Unstructured, unhurried, unassessed time in which they are free to choose what to do and with whom and how. Time that is not optimised for any outcome and not interrupted by adult direction. Time that looks, from the outside, like nothing, and is, from the inside, everything.

The British Psychological Society has called for ten additional minutes of play per day in UK primary schools, restoring the time eroded since 1995. It is a modest ask given the scale of what was taken. Forty-five minutes of breaktime cut per week over nearly thirty years, across an entire generation of children in state schools, while private school children's playtime remained largely untouched. The inequality embedded in that sentence deserves more attention than it receives.

But this is not only about schools and policy. Families have agency here too. The home environment is an environment, and it is teaching children something about what their time is for. A child whose every hour is structured, enriched, supervised, and optimised is not getting more than a child with free time. She is getting less of something that cannot be replicated by any programme or activity: the experience of her own choices, her own imagination, her own way of navigating the world without instruction.

This weekend. These after-school hours before the routine reasserts itself. The most powerful thing a parent can give a child is not a class or a screen or a scheduled activity. It is time. And within that time, perhaps one question: would you like to tell me a story? Not to produce a literacy outcome. Not to fill the hour. Simply because the child's imagination is extraordinary and it deserves to be heard, and because the act of having someone listen, genuinely, without correcting or redirecting, is itself one of the most protective experiences a child can have.

We built institutions that took play away. We can rebuild the conditions that bring it back. In policy, in schools, and in the thirty minutes after dinner when nothing is scheduled and everything is possible.