The ignored citizen: Young children’s subjectivities in Swedish and English early childhood education settings

Introduction

It is 9.30 in the morning and Harriet [teacher] comes back and continues a ‘preposition game’. The children are asked to fetch different things and place them on top, beside or below other things. The task includes numbers and colours and is adjusted to each child who takes the test. Lovisa (4 years), the third child, is asked to get a knife [plastic] from the home corner and put it under the table. Alexis (4 years) immediately says that she can help her. Now all can see that Lovisa acts as if she feels insecure. She looks around, slowly gets to her feet and starts walking to the home corner. Harriet says to Alexis: ‘You don’t need to help her. I’m sure she’ll be just fine’. Lovisa stands next to a cabinet in the home corner and looks embarrassed. Tentatively, she searches for a knife to put under the table. She continues searching for a while, then slowly turns to the others and says quietly that she cannot find one. Harriet asks Agate (4 years) to go help her. Agate quickly searches the home corner and finds a knife she gives to Lovisa, who walks to the table and puts the knife under it. In the meantime, Agate waits for Lovisa and the two girls return to their seats in the circle. (Karlsson, 2009)

The example above is taken from data generated by two studies undertaken in Swedish and English early childhood education settings within the last decade. Both of these studies provide a new lens for understanding children’s activities as agentic. This article uses these studies to clarify how young children’s agentic activities can be identified as examples of citizenship when the concept of citizenship and its relation to education is understood in a particular way. For this understanding, we rely on the help of Biesta’s (2011) concept of the ‘ignorant citizen’.

The generic concept of citizenship has been constructed and contested in different ways in different contexts over a long period of time. With the development of Athens in the 3rd or 4th century BC, a sophisticated notion of citizenship, as reflected in the arts and the organisation of communities and political structures, was formed and also linked to ideas of democracy (Cockburn, 2013). Since a democracy requires its people, or demos, to trust each other, in order to accept collective decisions (Bellamy, 2008), democracy and citizenship have become common partners since trust is easier to build when people share an identity through membership of a nation or city (Miller, 1995). However, children have consistently remained outside all notions of democratic citizenship. Aristotle, who was the first to theorise citizenship (Faulks, 2000), emphasised participation and the good life as central to citizenship but excluded both children and old men on the basis of their dependency and a citizen’s defining need for rational autonomy. Competence has therefore been an enduring central notion for understanding citizenship (Cockburn, 2013).

Cockburn (2013) also makes the point that notions of citizenship have changed considerably since World War II and the remodelling of the welfare state in European countries which has taken different paths, as particularly evident in relation to England and the Scandinavian countries. In contemporary early years policy and curricula contexts in Sweden and England, notions of democracy and citizenship appear to contrast sharply. In Sweden, a revised curriculum for the preschool (National Agency for Education, 2011) and School Law (Swedish Code of Statutes [SFS], 2010) are the current steering documents for the work of the preschool, and these clearly show that early childhood education should rest on democratic foundations. However, present English early years policy equates an agenda of reducing social inequality with a focus on the ‘quality, availability and affordability of early education and childcare’ (DfE, 2014: 4), rather than on democratic values. Nevertheless, while the Swedish and English settings provide an apparent contrast in terms of policy with regard to the importance of democracy to education, it is possible to identify some commonalities. Importantly, for this article, in both countries, it appears to be up to practitioners to interpret a set of specific values which might support democratic aims and this means that even if these are aimed for, they become difficult to apply in practice. This makes a philosophical understanding of citizenship education all the more important for practitioners to develop.

In the example above, which was observed in a Swedish preschool, Alexis demonstrates a caring action. She seems to know about Lovisa’s difficulties in doing what she is asked to do, which explains why she so quickly says that she is willing to help her. The values Alexis expresses demonstrate empathy with Lovisa’s situation. Thus, Alexis cares about Lovisa. However, the teacher thinks that Lovisa must try for herself. Possibly, Alexis knows how Lovisa takes on tasks and is aware that she can be hindered in vulnerable situations in front of other children. Alexis uses her empathetic ability to focus her attention in line with Lovisa’s. This suggests that the knowledge children have about each other motivates them to act preventatively; Alexis shows that she wants to prevent Lovisa from finding herself in a difficult and vulnerable position. By attending to this type of situation, our article demonstrates what and how young children contribute to their early years settings. We focus on their agentic role to discuss what citizenship education would provide if they were regarded as ‘already’ citizens.

Since the ratification in 1989 of the United Nations (UN) Convention on the Rights of the Child (UN General Assembly, 1989), international research and policy has strengthened its focus on children as citizens. Participatory rights were introduced under Article 12 (UN General Assembly, 1989) which recognised the potential for children to influence the policies and services which concern them and thus have a political role in their communities. Following this, General Comment 7 (released by The UN Committee in November 2005) clarified the practical application of Article 12 by saying that children’s right to express their views should be recognised in ‘the development of policies and services, including through research and consultations’ ( UN Committee on the Rights of the Child, 2005). Thus, research in the area of children’s rights has explored the notion of citizenship and the challenge to include children as citizens in a democratic society (see, for example, Jans (2004); Cockburn (2007, 2013); and Mannion (2007)). However, as Corsaro (2004) has pointed out, the everyday language and worlds of children and young people are very different to those of contemporary public spaces. This means that an inclusive democracy must address a change to methods of communication so that children are not disadvantaged (Young, 2000). Indeed, Cockburn (2007) suggests that an intermediary space is needed in which children’s actions are a ‘diffusion point’ between public and private spheres, such as local community and family and he also refers to citizenship as a practice that ‘needs to be developed at as early an age as possible’ (Cockburn, 2013: 211).

These debates reinforce that citizenship is indeed a contested concept that works within socio-political confines to reflect and sustain the dominance of certain social groups over other groups, including children when classed as a group. Unchallenged, these confines reproduce a view of citizenship that positions children in need of induction or socialisation into a future ‘real’ adult version of citizenship. In this version of society, even if children are consulted on matters that affect them, they may not actually be regarded as capable of being citizens. United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF, 2014) states that children should first be provided with information by adults in order to gain the skills, confidence and maturity needed to express views and influence decisions. The inference here is that they need to be socialised through both care and education to be citizens. However, as already signalled, this article follows the logic that children can and should be regarded as citizens in the type of inclusive democracy outlined by Young (2000). We therefore characterise Cockburn’s (2007) ‘intermediary space’ as play. Jans (2004) also points out the importance of playfulness for a ‘children-sized concept of citizenship’ (p. 35) and acknowledges that children and educators are interdependent in the learning process. Thus, this article also highlights how young children shape their environment and influence citizenship through actions that are often relational and operate not only between young children themselves but also implicate older children and adults.

The elusiveness of democracy in education

Biesta’s (2011) idea of democracy and education which outlines the conditions for the ‘ignorant’ citizen is at the heart of our theoretical perspective on children’s activities and relations. This view suggests that the key discrepancy between learning and education lies in a contrast between the socialisation and the subjectification conception of citizenship. In the socialisation conception, the educational system is viewed as a political order with certain assumptions which place children in a determined position to learn right knowledge from wrong. Thus, the reproduction of a good citizen rests on ideas and knowledge incorporated traditionally in societal contexts which means that children, as newcomers and citizens, are viewed as learners of, rather than agents in, political processes. The subjectification conception of citizenship, on the other hand, enables children to act as citizens and is explored further through the examples in this article.

By utilising Biesta’s concept of the ‘ignorant’ citizen, we also turn our attention to the ignored citizen – the citizen whose effort to contribute to their societal group is seen as invalid because he or she is unseen. As outlined in the introduction, we make this case for young children who are consistently viewed in policy and curriculum as incompetent because of their immature bodily constitution. Thus, we aim in this article, through the lens of Biesta’s (2011) analysis of Mouffe and Rancière’s work, as well as ideas derived from Levinasian philosophy, to show how children can be viewed as citizens. Our contribution is to link these views on citizenship to an approach to play and to provide scenarios of children’s interaction that can be analysed using three key concepts related to democracy: dissensus, agonism and solidarity. These perspectives, it is hoped, will cast a new light on the seriousness of young children’s contribution as citizens in the context of an early years education that is viewed as a democratic project.

Biesta’s (2011) analysis of democracy promotes ideas of inherent instability. Our contention is that this relates well to the way that young children learn in and about the world. Research into early childhood pedagogy consistently highlights the active and apparently chaotic way that children form hypotheses about the world (see, for example, Weldemariam, 2014; Williams et al., 2014). However, to understand how children can participate in a democratic education, Biesta (2014) cautions about over attention to the concept of learning and instead he suggests a focus on connections between the logic of education and democracy. Whereas ‘learning’ refers to an individual process, ‘education’ looks at purpose and relationship (Biesta, 2014). Thus, we also contend that we should conceptualise children’s learning within a broader vision of education which reaches beyond schooling and the institutionalisation of education over which children have little choice as to whether to take part in. However, if democracy is conceptualised as disordered or unstable, then marginal groups including young children, in turn, can also be viewed as key contributors to and citizens of the democratic landscape in whatever circumstances they find themselves in. To understand this version of citizenship, we therefore turn to Biesta’s exposition of some key differences between the work of Rancière and Mouffe.

Shaping a subjectification view of citizenship

To counteract the socialisation view of citizenship, Biesta (2011) explores the subjectification conception of citizenship. Central to this are Rancière’s (1998, 2011) ideas about the kind of democracy that comes about through citizens acting in a democracy that is framed as thought-provoking. Here, the political subject is not an identity but a subject acting in particular situations to raise the issue of politics. Thus, he or she takes part in creating a ‘polemical scene’ (Rancière in Panagia, 2000: 125) which makes discussion of new perspectives possible. This interpretation of subjectification raises ethical questions of power relations in relation to children’s standpoints which are explored further in the next section. Rancière’s most central thesis is that politics is about democracy and should be a constant struggle for equality and against injustice. Thus, he differentiates between two versions of democratic politics – police order and politics (Biesta, 2011). Characteristic of police order is a striving for unity, consensus and boundaries that affect how we perceive the world around us. Politics, however, is based on diversity and subjectification, as previously explained, and linked to democratic processes of living.

Rancière (2011) also espouses the view that both aesthetics and dissensus play important roles in his critical project. He talks of egalitarian practice of philosophy as ‘a practice that enacts the aporia of foundation, which is the necessity of a poetical act to constitute an arkhê of the arkhê, an authority of the authority’ (Rancière, 2011: 15). Aesthetics is, therefore, a way to deal with instability – to understand and interpret our own perceptions and gain authority. Dissensus which precedes aesthetics has a basis in inequality and entails ‘a difference within the same, a sameness of the opposite’ (Rancière, 2011: 1). Anything can become politics, if it breaks with the logic of negotiation between the existing social entities and becomes a stage for the clash between police logic and the assumption of equality. Political activity ‘makes heard a discourse where once there was only place for noise’ (Rancière, 1998: 30). This suggests that children have the possibility to engage in politics despite or indeed because of, the essential inequality of their biological difference from adults.

Through his attention to Jacotot’s work (1770–1840), Rancière (1991) also developed the idea of the ‘ignorant schoolmaster’ in which an emancipatory education is reflective of a radical equality in which the will to learn stimulates intellect and comes before intelligence. The consequence of this is that ‘one can teach what one doesn’t know’ (Suoranta, 2010). In this article, we explore the implications of Rancière’s radical equality in educational practices through a focus on young children’s play and playfulness which, along with giving meaning, Jans (2004) suggests ‘could well be a universal characteristic of children’ (p. 35).

One of the key points that Biesta takes from Mouffe’s (2000, 2005) work is that (as opposed to Rancière) in her view, there has to be some political order in which it is possible to identify a diversity of differentiated positions. In this form, confrontation and disagreements compose a new kind of democracy – a pluralist democracy in which people identify themselves as citizens. Mouffe (2000) also conceptualises disagreement as the crucial point for societal constellations of democracy, and this is identified as ‘agonism’ rather than antagonism, with policy about having to make choices between conflicting alternatives (Mouffe, 2005). Thus, a functioning democracy cannot deny the existence of conflict, but must instead let it play out in accordance with certain common rules. The ‘scenes’ provided in this article suggest that there are many situations where disagreements occur and children may not reach consensus with adults but where adults underestimate the extent to which children can and do make agonistic choices in the context of their play.

The solidarity of Levinasian ethics

To further shape the theories of citizenship education posited above, we also refer to Biesta’s (2003, 2006) earlier ideas which use Levinas’ philosophy as an epistemological base. In this world view, to exist democratically is to question authority/power and knowledge and is intrinsically ethical, in the sense that real questions are asked without the presupposition of specific answers. This allows the unique individual to be present as the both ‘responsible and “response-able” subject’ (Biesta, 2003: 67). Levinas’ (1969) phenomenology of ethics says that ‘the strangeness of the Other, his irreducibility to the I, to my thoughts and my possessions, is precisely accomplished as a calling into question of my spontaneity as ethic’ (p. 33). Ethics, therefore, is not first of all a matter of reciprocity – the obligation towards the Other comes with the relationship itself, which precedes any actions performed or even any thoughts by which one would be able to measure one’s own and the other’s relative obligations. It is the social relation, which Levinas calls ‘the ethical relation’ that brings genuine transcendence, that makes it possible for one to maintain separate individuality and also be in relation with something genuinely and infinitely other than oneself – the other person.

Thus, according to Levinas (1981), ethics precedes ontology. We contend that for concepts of citizenship education, this provides an ethical necessity for what we call solidarity, or ‘togetherness’, to inform actions. By this, we mean that solidarity is a part of being-in-the-world and experiencing difference as linked to an idea of the plurality of being. Solidarity, in our view, links to Rancièrian politics and comes about through scenarios that enable boundary-crossing and interconnecting experiences (Rancière, 2011). In emphasising the concept of solidarity, we also build on the work of Smith (2012) who calls for children’s learning of citizenship to be recognised through their communities of practice. However, here, we broaden the philosophical base for these arguments by attending to Levinas’ (1969) discussion of the child in which face-to-face interaction with adults is the starting point for ethical claims. This enables children and adults to learn responsibility together – as response-able subjects – and thereby open up new spaces in social settings. Interpreting Levinas in this way gives us an understanding of the child as having a genuine and infinite position to create inter-relational knowledge. This supports the notion of intergenerational agency, as previously outlined (Mannion, 2007), which recognises that both children and adults can generate knowledge and learn from each other in the same projects. Altogether, this provides a base of a radical asymmetry that challenges pedagogy and knowledge and produces children as citizens.

If we turn back to our opening example, it is possible to see how confines of adulthood constrain the ability of children to handle the situation. An empathetic caring action exemplifies an agentic role and the situation could have taken another turn. Such a preventative and unselfish action from Alexis seems to be in line with behaviour of solidarity, where the support of another is an act of spontaneity as ethic and not a matter of reciprocity. Our example illustrates children as response-able subjects with potential to bring new ideas of learning processes into acts of togetherness. But still the situation illuminates that the children’s ethical relation remains subjugated.

Young children as playful citizens

The key aim at the start of this article was to clarify how young children’s agentic activities can be identified as examples of citizenship. In other words, ‘How can young children be viewed in practice as already (as well as yet-to-be) citizens’? To understand this further, we suggest that it is informative to look at more examples of play scenarios, with the assumption that young children are indeed competent and rational beings. Thus, we will both conceptualise and empathise with their perspectives, to understand their intentions and actions (Sommer et al., 2013). This view of play links with the subjectification concept of citizenship discussed in previous sections.

Play has its own justification in children’s lives and should not only be encouraged for learning purposes and as a pedagogical tool. Playing activities takes up a large part of children’s everyday lives in the preschool, as something continuously ongoing. Thus, children switch unceasingly between what is ‘real’ and what is happening in the form of play. This means that play occurs in routines, in planned adult-initiated activities and as children’s own intentions. An interpretation we make of play is that it could be perceived as children’s ‘lifeform’ (Karlsson, 2014: 95). In this kind of philosophical approach to play (Steinsholt, 1999), it takes the playing child to, and into, a ‘space of in-between’ (Karlsson, 2014: 95) and it consists of real events, as well as those that can be done for fun. Thus, this space is a continuity which alternates between reality and fiction.

Recognising children’s play as a lifeform where different dimensions are present and where many things can happen at the same time provides practitioners with opportunities to engage with children in an in-between-as-democratic space. This gives us opportunities to work with children to see things that would otherwise lie beyond a formally trained logical perception. This is consistent with an insider perspective on practiced/practised democracy (Biesta, 2011) and also allows us to appreciate children’s solidarity when they come up against adult perceptions.

Submitting to this logic, we reflect on examples from data collected within the last 10 years in each country which show how children interact with adults and vice versa to perform complementary yet different roles in early childhood education settings. Although all children are between 3 and 5 years old, in Sweden, the context is a preschool, and in England, the context is a foundation (2) class in a school, sometimes also known as a reception class. Reflecting back on our previous discussion of Biesta’s ‘ignorant citizen’, we consider whether children’s expression in these examples is at once dissenting and Rancièrian, yet equally as reasonable as that of the adult, thus also demonstrating Mouffe’s concept of ‘agonism’. Furthermore, we consider whether and how children show ethical solidarity and an appreciation of the importance of play.

Examples of young children as ignored/ignorant citizens

Lovisa is finishing her meal and is repeatedly saying: ‘May I clear the table?’ At first she isn’t addressing this to anyone special but then she turns with her question to Harriet [teacher] and says, ‘May I set the table?’ Harriet says in a humorous tone: ‘You want to set the table? Sure!’ Joel quickly says, ‘No, she means to clear the table’. This is not commented on by Harriet who instead responds to Ottilia wanting her attention. (Karlsson, 2009)

Shane is playing chasing games with a group of children on bikes. Another child waits for a turn. The practitioner asks Shane to give his bike to another child. Hearing this request, Shane dons a paramedic jacket and tells the practitioner that his bike is ‘an ambulance’. Because the teacher has introduced a hospital theme into the outdoor play, this means that the practitioner is persuaded to let Shane have longer on the bike and thus circumvent the ‘timer’ rule to share and the immediate need to give someone else a turn. (Bath, 2009)

In examples a and b, children demonstrate different views from those of the adults. We see in the Swedish example that children understand that adults are responsible for children’s wellbeing and must arbitrate in different ways. Thus, children mostly perceive teachers as leaders and rule-makers ‘to sort out disputes’ rather than as substitute parents or allies (Bath, 2009: 69). Nevertheless, children also consider that it is important to highlight events for teachers’ knowledge when they think someone has been mistreated. Therefore, despite their trust, children will show resistance (dissent) to the teacher’s pedagogical position when they are defending their own or others’ rights.

Using insights from Rancière (2011), play can be seen in children’s everyday life as a way to deal with instability and certain situated rules. Play is children’s ‘lifeform’, inherent in all kind of situations. Lovisa is confidently unaware and seems joyful until her mistake occurs. Joel perceives that the teacher does not take Lovisa seriously because of a slip of the tongue and he supports Lovisa’s meaning when the teacher makes fun of her for this. He points out that Lovisa does not intend to joke and should be taken seriously. Joel’s act of citizenship and solidarity is, however, ignored as such and Joel is not given credit for his intervention. Joel shows dissensus for the sake of solidarity; there is no gain to himself by calling attention to the teacher’s misunderstanding.

The English example, on the other hand, is a case of dissensus which is in opposition to adult organisation. For Shane, sustaining his role in the play involves him in recognition of adult perspectives, in order to strategically bend the rules and continue with his play. Thus, his divergent view is subsumed to remain playing at his chosen activity.

Marit appears to want to play in the hut with Ottilia, Alexis and Sabina, so she presents herself to them as Donald Duck. ‘We don’t want no Donald Duck here, we’re playing the cat game!’ says Alexis as she is the one who decides who is in this particular play. She has already approved Sabinah to be in the hut which she and Ottilia built of pillows. Now Alexis, Ottilia and Sabinah are pretending that they are three cats in the house. Vivianne, a substitute teacher in the preschool, comes into the room and tells them that Marit can be Donald Duck if she wants to be. After an exchange of words Alexis says: ‘But she can’t be in the cat team then!’ Hearing this, Marit goes instead to the home corner and plays by herself for a while but her expression suggests that she does not seem upset or bothered. (Karlsson, 2009)

Freddie tells the practitioner about a Halloween party he has been to. However, he confides that he plays with ‘no one’ in the classroom. The practitioner asks him who he would like to play with and he says ‘the train track’ and names a particular child who he says needs to be asked if he can join in with the current group play with the train track. The practitioner then negotiates with this child on behalf of Freddie and Freddie is allowed into the game. (Bath, 2009)

In examples c and d, it is the content of play and the original or primary group involved in the play that is emphasised by the children. Mouffe (2000) conceptualises disagreement as a crucial point in societal constellations of democracy and thus transforms the concept of antagonism to that of agonism. In children’s everyday life in preschool, there are many situations where disagreements occur and responsibility is apparent in the children’s actions. In the Swedish example, the play also has a narrative form in progress. In the English example, perhaps because Freddie’s involvement is sufficiently in tune with the other children’s intentions for the play, as compared with that of Marit, he is allowed into the game. Also, on this occasion, the practitioner recognises the gatekeeper of the play and accepts the children’s rules for entry. Interestingly, as with Freddie’s response to the practitioner, children often attribute the same meaning to who to play with as to what to play with (Bath, 2009).

Nevertheless, if a child is not able, like Freddie, to instigate play, there is a constant danger of exclusion. However, both Freddie and Marit appear to accept the possibility of exclusion, if they can see that their intentions do not fit in with the existing play. Thus, they demonstrate a consensual understanding that the content of play is more important than everyone’s participation in it and they will actively resist the adult’s authority when adults fail to understand this. Thus, we can see clear workings of both an agonistic approach and ethic of solidarity with regard to the play in hand.

Conclusion

The examples depicted above show how young children influence relations in early years settings, albeit that this influence often goes unrecognised by the adults in those settings. We contend that this influence demonstrates forms of citizenship which can be appreciated through lenses of dissensus, agonism and solidarity. Sometimes these concepts are apparent by children directly questioning the treatment of others, sometimes by sustaining the play and the community it represents. However, always the ethic of solidarity demonstrates an interest in justice and an understanding of difference – sometimes between children and adults, sometimes between children themselves. Thus, children ‘come into presence’ with each other and with adults (Biesta, 2006); Joel is concerned that Lovisa is misunderstood by the teacher and Shane, Marit and Freddie show respect for the play in process. The important point is that in these examples, adults are involved but young children’s agentic role in relation to adults is ignored and therefore the possibilities for an understanding of children’s citizenship that incorporates intergenerational learning and a new view of citizenship education are lost. If, however, the children’s position had been taken into account in these situations then a broader vision of education would have been enacted in the early childhood education setting. We therefore suggest that an understanding of Levinas’ idea that ethics precedes ontology allows practitioners to appreciate children’s genuine position as co-creators of inter-relational knowledge.

We have argued that the young child can be seen as both an ‘ignored’ and an ‘ignorant citizen’, that is, one who refuses a predetermined citizenship identity (Biesta, 2011). Furthermore, we have proposed that children enact this subjectivity through the ‘lifeform’ of play. Rancière’s view of democracy as a form of expression matches this well and also helps us to accentuate the anarchic nature of play. Rancièrian dissensus, as we have outlined previously, emphasises everyone’s equality and the expression of novel forms of identity which pit ‘sense against sense’ (Rancière, 2011: 1). Mouffe’s approach to democratic values is also fiercely inclusive, even though it relies on greater attention to the notion of stability and structure, albeit in a temporary sense. Our examples show that even when adults fail to understand disagreements among children, children can take responsibility for consensus themselves as representatives of their cultural communities. In this way, they demonstrate agency which overcomes binary or oppositional understandings of citizenship education. To understand this children-sized concept of citizenship (Jans, 2004: 35), it is important to consider and respect children’s meaning through the ways they express themselves, such as language, gestures and facial expressions.

This raises the question as to whether a binary opposition of socialisation and subjectification views is indeed a useful approach to take to views of children’s citizenship, if we concede that children themselves are agentic in understanding what citizenship means. Perhaps we should look towards Mannion (2007) who suggests that we need to identify ‘emergent intergenerational spatial practice’ (p. 410) in order to reconfigure adult–child relations. This theme is also taken up by Wyness (2013) with respect to intergenerational dialogue between children and adults, as a focus for children’s participatory roles. Indeed, Morrow (1999) also points out that children often provide ‘active support for parents’ (p. 74). From this vantage point, we could argue that children help to create a subjectification model of citizenship within a pluralist view of society.

Despite the policy differences alluded to the introduction, Swedish and English early years curricula and practices both heavily accentuate concepts of learning and development as the most important features of early education. Therefore, we call for a conceptualisation of children’s learning and development to fall within a far broader vision of education which articulates democratic values more clearly. As we have tried to portray, our view of democracy is one that is essentially unfixed and inclusive of all groups, including young children. This means that young children can contribute as both ignorant and ignored citizens and create ‘education’ with adults and each other in their settings – variously described as ‘democratic experimentalism’ (Biesta, 2014; Moss, 2009). This recognition requires that theory feeds through policy into practice and informs it. As our examples show, we need to learn far more from practice but we also need the development of theory to illuminate and stimulate better understandings of democratic approaches to early years education.