“[E]ven failed attempts at non-coercive solutions are valuable. Every failure teaches something. Parents can reflect on what did not work and refine their approach for next time. Even small improvements—such as finding ways to make a difficult situation more tolerable—can make a significant difference.”
– Sam Kuypers
The Sovereign Child is an excellent read and one of the few books on parenting that I can endorse. It is up there with such outstanding titles as Free to Learn by Peter Gray—in fact, in many ways, the arguments that Stupple and Chipkin put forward are more fundamental and principled than those of Gray. It is well-argued, concise, and written in easy-to-follow yet elegant prose. More importantly, it challenges conventional wisdom on rule enforcement and parental authority in a way that is both thought-provoking and persuasive.
The book does not pull its punches. From the very first chapters, Stupple and Chipkin advocate for giving children full autonomy over decisions—including food choices—even if a child decides to eat mostly Oreos. Many would argue that habits like these are harmful enough to justify parental intervention, but the authors provide several counterarguments.
Firstly, they point out that the negative consequences of unhealthy habits take time to present, so the second, third, or even fourth extra scoop of ice cream is unlikely to do much lasting harm. Secondly, they argue that so-called bad habits already provide their own disincentives: overeating leads to stomach aches, just as getting too little sleep results in exhaustion the next day. This reminded me of a remark by economist David Friedman, who noted that the cost of not cleaning your bedroom is simply having an untidy bedroom—any additional punishment for it being untidy is pointless and silly.
However, the authors’ most compelling argument, in my view, is that rule enforcement itself carries a heavy cost: it undermines the relationship between parent and child. To enforce rules, a parent must act as an antagonist, actively preventing the child from accessing certain foods, screens, or other restricted items. This dynamic creates resentment and invites subversion, turning what could be a cooperative relationship into a power struggle.
Many of the book’s core principles are illustrated through Stupple’s own family experiences. These examples are endearing and serve as proof of concept, demonstrating that the principles laid out in the book are both achievable and often highly practical. One of my favourite examples involves Stupple’s daughter, who at one point had a painful splinter but refused to let her parents remove it. Stupple and his wife considered overriding their commitment to non-coercion to extract it before it became infected. However, a friend’s timely suggestion led them to try a topical anaesthetic under a bandage instead. This alternative approach allowed the splinter to work itself out naturally, eliminating the need for force. It is a brilliant example of creative problem-solving in action.
Of course, solutions like this cannot always be found in time, but as Stupple and Chipkin emphasise, even failed attempts at non-coercive solutions are valuable. Every failure teaches something. Parents can reflect on what did not work and refine their approach for next time. Even small improvements—such as finding ways to make a difficult situation more tolerable—can make a significant difference.
Moreover, the authors recognise that the style of parenting they advocate is both novel and unintuitive for many. Mistakes are inevitable, but that does not mean the attempt is futile. Unlike conventional parenting, which relies on a rigid set of predetermined rules, non-coercive parenting requires creativity, experimentation, and a willingness to learn.
One of my few criticisms of the book is its use of phrases like “letting” children do things. For instance, the authors write, “Parents may worry about the health consequences of letting their kids eat and sleep how they like, but they rarely factor in the impact of under-nurtured preferences on the health of their relationships.” The philosophy of Taking Children Seriously rejects the idea that parents should let their children do things, as this implies they have the authority to dictate their children’s choices but are merely choosing not to exercise that authority. It is akin to saying a man should “let” his wife decide how to spend her own money—liberalism rejects the premise that he has any right to control her in the first place.
Despite this, the book’s broader message remains deeply compelling. Throughout the book, Stupple and Chipkin highlight that parenting is, at its core, a process of cooperative problem-solving in which both adults and children play an equal part. They treat children as people with their own ideas about the world. When parents impose rigid control, they erode the possibility of cooperation, weakening the parent-child relationship. By contrast, The Sovereign Child offers a vision of parenting built on trust, autonomy, and mutual respect—one that I find both compelling and liberating.
[Sam Kuypers is a physicist at the Université de Montréal and has received funding from the publisher of this book as a Fellow of Conjecture Institute (CI). The views expressed in this review are entirely his own.]
See also:
- Welcome to Taking Children Seriously
- “How can we communicate urgent information to our pre-verbal toddlers?”
- What if my child doesn’t want to leave the park?
Sam Kuypers, 2025, ‘Beyond rules: a review of The Sovereign Child’, https://takingchildrenseriously.com/beyond-rules-a-review-of-the-sovereign-child