Humanism in Children’s Literature

Pure literature is, at its core, humanistic.

The formation of humanistic thought likely stems from multiple branches of human knowledge—philosophy, politics, and logic being among the most significant. Today, scholars and researchers seek to connect humanism’s roots with neuroscience, psychology, education, archaeology, history, and biology. These interdisciplinary connections are not only valid but essential, as each field offers unique insights into the nature of human existence. It would be impossible to ignore the profound influence of philosophy and neuroscience in shaping our understanding of anthropology and human development. Wherever human knowledge has been allowed to flourish freely, it has inevitably aligned with humanistic thought. Any discipline that prioritizes life, autonomy, and personal growth naturally leads to humanism.

Recent advances in neuroscience further affirm the principles put forth by psychologists such as Carl Rogers and Abraham Maslow. Modern philosophers continue to build upon the ideas of Spinoza, just as contemporary educators and scholars frequently return to the teachings of Jean-Jacques Rousseau and John Dewey. The foundation of modern science constantly reinforces core humanistic principles: every individual, while sharing fundamental traits with humanity as a whole, is unique and irreplaceable; human experiences shape our distinct place in the world; and, despite genetic, social, and intellectual limitations, each person possesses free will. As soon as an individual becomes aware of their capabilities, they also inherit responsibility for their own freedom. Human existence is holistic, requiring opportunities for development across emotional, intellectual, and social dimensions.

For decades, neuroscientists, evolutionary biologists, and social theorists have reinforced these ideas. However, one critical domain in shaping humanistic philosophy has received comparatively less attention: literature. Among the few scholars who have explored this relationship in depth is Dr. Steven Pinker. In The Better Angels of Our Nature, Pinker highlights the role of literature in shaping humanistic thought, particularly in fostering empathy and transforming social consciousness. He emphasizes the undeniable impact of Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin in mobilizing the anti-slavery movement, demonstrating how literature can influence moral and political landscapes.

Within literature, one branch stands out as particularly influential in cultivating humanistic ideals: children’s literature. More than any other literary genre, children’s stories have played a profound role in rejecting authoritarianism, behavioral control, and social domination, instead fostering values such as empathy, freedom, and individuality in young minds. Children’s literature not only introduces readers to the richness of human experience but also nurtures a deep sense of justice and moral responsibility—shaping the collective consciousness of future generations in ways few other mediums can achieve.

One of the most universally recognized works that embody humanistic values is Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi. More than just a children’s tale, it is a profound exploration of what it means to become human and how humanity is shaped. At its core, Pinocchio is a story about transformation—not just of a wooden puppet into a boy, but of the process through which individuals develop self-awareness, empathy, and moral understanding.

Pinocchio begins as a lifeless wooden figure, created by Geppetto, a kind but lonely craftsman. He is animated through love and given the ability to walk, talk, interact, and even eat, yet he remains incomplete. He is physically alive but lacks the depth of human experience that defines true personhood. Love alone sets him in motion but does not fully transform him into a human being.

Unlike traditional educational approaches that emphasize passive learning, Pinocchio does not become human by sitting in a classroom, memorizing facts, or blindly following rules. Instead, his development aligns with Carl Rogers’ humanistic theory, which asserts that true growth arises from personal experience and self-discovery. Pinocchio disobeys, makes mistakes, and embarks on adventures—experiencing joy, deception, danger, and hardship. He is not merely taught morality; he learns through lived experience. However, even this is not enough. Experience alone does not grant him his humanity.

Through his adventures, Pinocchio gradually begins to reflect on the emotions that shape human connection. Despite his initial selfishness and impulsivity, he discovers something deeper within himself—the ability to care for others. When he recalls the love that brought him to life, he understands that his journey is incomplete without returning to its source. This realization compels him to set out on a dangerous voyage to the sea, where he must face his greatest fear: the monstrous whale that has swallowed his creator.

Inside the whale’s belly, Pinocchio undergoes his most profound transformation. This setting is more than just a mythical obstacle—it is a symbolic space of reflection and rebirth, much like Jonah’s ordeal in biblical tradition. In this moment of darkness and uncertainty, Pinocchio comes to a crucial realization: he misses Geppetto, he longs for his love, and he is no longer thinking only of himself. For the first time, he feels true empathy—not just for his own struggles but for the pain and loneliness of another.

It is at this moment that Pinocchio finally becomes human. His transformation is not achieved through magic, obedience, or even experience alone, but through the integration of love, connection, and self-awareness. The story illustrates that to be truly human, one must not only exist and act but also feel, care, and form meaningful relationships. Without love, empathy, and the ability to recognize the humanity in others, we remain incomplete—just as Pinocchio was before his journey.

Pinocchio’s story remains a timeless exploration of what defines human identity. Across generations, its themes continue to resonate, serving as a rich source of analysis for scholars of children’s literature. It is a tale that reminds us that humanity is not something we are simply given—it is something we must grow into, shaped by love, experience, and our capacity to connect with others.

Another prime example of humanistic literature in children’s books is Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie, first published in 1902. At first glance, it is an adventurous tale about a boy who refuses to grow up, but beneath its magical surface, the story astonishingly explores the complex psychological dynamics between childhood, adulthood, and authority. Decades later, in 1959, Eric Berne formalized these dynamics in his Transactional Analysis theory, which remains a cornerstone in psychotherapy and literary analysis today. However, the essence of this theory was already woven into Peter Pan, making it a masterpiece of humanistic literature.

At its core, Peter Pan is a reflection of childhood itself—raw, spontaneous, full of emotions, imagination, and limitless dreams. Peter is not merely a character; he symbolizes the untamed spirit of childhood, a realm where joy, curiosity, and freedom reign supreme. He lives in Neverland, a mythical island where no one grows up, surrounded by the Lost Boys—children who have been abandoned or forgotten by the world. This sanctuary represents a dreamlike escape for children who have been denied a proper childhood, reinforcing a fundamental humanistic principle: the need for every child to experience joy, wonder, and freedom before adulthood inevitably arrives.

In stark contrast, Captain Hook embodies the oppressive force of authority, the rigid and controlling parental figure who constantly looms over Peter. Hook’s very existence seems to challenge Peter’s carefree nature: Why don’t you grow up? Why are you still happy? Why do you still have hope? He is not merely an antagonist; he is the embodiment of societal expectations that demand conformity, responsibility, and the surrender of childish joy. The psychological battle between Peter and Hook is, in many ways, a universal struggle—one that all individuals experience at some point in their journey to adulthood. Hook’s persistent attempts to extinguish Peter’s joy serve as a metaphor for how the pressures of the adult world often threaten to suppress childhood innocence and creativity.

However, Neverland is not a static paradise. While it offers children an escape from adult expectations, it also presents a crucial existential dilemma: Can one remain a child forever? This question is further explored with the arrival of Wendy and her younger brothers. At first, they revel in the adventure, free from responsibilities and the expectations of the adult world. But as time passes, Wendy, who represents maturity and emotional intelligence, begins to sense that something essential is missing. She comes to understand that while childhood is magical, it is not meant to last forever. Growth and change are necessary for a fulfilling life.

Wendy’s role in the story is pivotal—she embodies the adult in Berne’s psychological framework. Unlike Hook, who represents oppressive authority, Wendy does not force Peter to grow up; rather, she acknowledges both the beauty and the limitations of childhood. She bridges the gap between childhood freedom and adult responsibility, recognizing that dreams and emotions are vital, but so is the ability to navigate reality. She does not reject Neverland, but she understands that one cannot stay there indefinitely. Her choice to return home marks an acceptance of growth, demonstrating that adulthood does not have to mean the loss of joy, dreams, or imagination—it simply means integrating these elements into a balanced life.

This concept of balance is one of the most profound humanistic messages in Peter Pan. If a person remains trapped in eternal childhood—what Carl Jung and Marie-Louise von Franz describe as Puer Aeternus—life may become stagnant and unfulfilling. Conversely, if one becomes like Hook, rigid and devoid of joy, life loses its color and vitality. Peter Pan shows us that true growth does not come from rejecting childhood or blindly accepting adulthood; rather, it emerges from a synthesis of the two. The healthiest individuals are those who can keep their inner child alive while also embracing the responsibilities of adulthood.

Remarkably, nearly fifty years after Peter Pan was published, Eric Berne introduced his Parent-Child-Adult model in psychology, which provided a structured way to analyze human interactions. Yet, the essence of this concept had already been embedded in Barrie’s story in a deeply creative and intuitive way. The tale of Peter Pan continues to be a testament to humanistic values, reminding us that the best version of ourselves is one that nurtures imagination, embraces emotions, and maintains hope, while also engaging with the realities of the adult world.

Ultimately, Peter Pan is not just a story about never growing up—it is a reflection on how we grow up, and whether we allow our inner child to survive that journey. By exploring the interplay between childhood wonder, authoritarian control, and emotional maturity, the story offers a timeless lesson on the delicate balance required for a meaningful, humanistic life.

Another remarkable example of humanistic literature in children’s books is undoubtedly Pippi Longstocking by Swedish author Astrid Lindgren. Through Pippi, Lindgren gifted the world one of the most extraordinary and unconventional characters in children’s literature—a girl who embodies freedom, strength, and human rights in a way rarely seen before.

Pippi is no ordinary child. At just nine years old, she lives alone in her colorful villa, Villa Villekulla, without any parental supervision. According to her, her father is the king of the pirates, sailing across the seas, while her mother watches over her from the sky among the angels. This whimsical and fantastical backstory immediately sets Pippi apart from other children’s book protagonists. She is not shaped by the typical structures of family, school, or society. Instead, she defines her own world, creating her own rules, and living life entirely on her own terms.

What makes Pippi even more extraordinary is her incredible physical strength—she can lift her horse effortlessly, fight off bullies and thieves, and navigate any challenge that comes her way. She has a pet monkey, a treasure chest filled with gold coins, and an adventurous spirit that stems from traveling the world with her father. These elements make her seem larger than life, almost mythical, yet she remains deeply relatable to children. She is not just a character; she is a dream—a vision of childhood unfettered by limitations and constraints.

From the very first pages of the book, Lindgren removes all conventional tools of control that adults typically impose on children. Pippi does not need anyone to protect her—she is stronger than any threat she might face. She does not need financial support—her treasure chest ensures her independence. She does not lack experience—her travels have given her a wealth of knowledge beyond any school curriculum. In a world where adults often use authority, fear, or dependence to control children, Pippi becomes an ungovernable force.

Pippi Longstocking defies every social norm. She has grown up without rules, commands, or restrictions. Her friends, Tommy and Annika, are both fascinated and bewildered by her unconventional ways. They ask her, “Doesn’t anyone tell you that it’s nighttime, so you should brush your teeth and go to bed?” To them, the idea of a child without supervision seems impossible. Yet, Pippi thrives in her freedom. She does not attend school because she believes she already knows plenty. She does not follow traditional etiquette because she sees no reason for unnecessary formalities. And yet, despite rejecting all conventional rules, Pippi is not chaotic or selfish. On the contrary, she possesses a profound moral compass.

Pippi is a symbol of empathy, kindness, and justice. She stands up for the weak, defends her friends from bullies, and protects animals and those in need. Her creativity knows no bounds—she turns everyday life into a grand adventure, proving that true learning happens through experience rather than rigid instruction. Most importantly, she is deeply in love with life itself. She does not merely exist—she lives with full intensity, embracing every moment with excitement and curiosity.

Pippi’s relationship with authority is particularly striking. She does not automatically reject all rules, but she questions them. If a rule makes sense, she follows it. If it is unfair, she challenges it. If it is oppressive, she openly defies it. Her ability to resist unjust authority makes her a symbol of children’s rights and, by extension, human rights. When necessary, she cooperates with others, but she never allows anyone to dictate how she should live. Her actions highlight a fundamental humanistic principle: true freedom does not mean recklessness; it means having the power to make choices while remaining compassionate and responsible.

In many ways, Pippi Longstocking is more than just a fictional character—she is a manifesto of children’s rights. Her story so vividly expresses the essence of childhood freedom, dignity, and autonomy that one might believe the Convention on the Rights of the Child was written with Pippi in mind. Just as Peter Pan aligns with Eric Berne’s psychological theories on childhood and adulthood, Pippi Longstocking aligns seamlessly with the principles of children’s rights, advocating for the respect, independence, and well-being of every child.

The message in Pippi Longstocking is clear and powerful: saving children is saving humanity. Ensuring children’s rights is not merely a legal obligation—it is an ethical duty that defines the very core of human rights. Pippi reminds us that when children are given the freedom to grow, dream, and challenge the world around them, they become not only strong individuals but also the foundation of a more just and compassionate society.

Lindgren’s creation remains one of the most enduring figures in children’s literature, continuing to inspire young readers with her fearless spirit and unwavering belief in the boundless possibilities of life. Pippi is not just a girl with extraordinary strength — she is a symbol of what childhood should be: joyful, adventurous, free, and deeply human.

Stories like Pinocchio, Peter Pan, and Pippi Longstocking are powerful examples of humanistic thought, each offering a unique perspective on the essential elements of being human. Many other beloved characters—such as The Little Prince, Alice, Mary Poppins, and even Ferdinand—could also be added to this list, as they, too, embody the values of curiosity, empathy, freedom, and personal growth.

Pinocchio, as a classic children’s tale, explores the journey of becoming truly human. It emphasizes the importance of love, experience, and empathy—showing that transformation is not simply about external change but about internal growth and meaningful connections. Peter Pan delves into the psychological dimensions of human development, illustrating the balance between childhood, adulthood, and the parental role. It reminds us that while imagination and joy are essential, true fulfillment comes from embracing all aspects of our identity. Meanwhile, Pippi Longstocking stands as a bold advocate for human rights, freedom, and individuality. Her fearless defiance of unjust authority and her unwavering belief in equality make her a timeless symbol of childhood empowerment.

Children who grow up with these literary figures are nurtured within the ideals of humanism. They learn to think independently, challenge injustices, and approach the world with kindness and understanding. These stories instill in them a sense of responsibility—not just for their own happiness but for making the world a better place. Through literature, we do not simply entertain children; we equip them with the moral and emotional tools to shape a more compassionate and just future.