Did you know that around 90% of brain development occurs in the first five years of life?
Seriously – decades of neuroscience and psychological research have shown that the brain is most flexible and adaptable to learning during the earliest years of life.
Isn’t it strange then, that in many parts of Western society the early years aren’t always treated with the respect they deserve? That we often view those who support this development – professionally, such as Early Years Practitioners, or personally, such as stay-at-home parents – as “having it easy”, spending their time “playing” or “babysitting”.
And it’s not just about a lack of respect for the adults. We often show even less respect to the children themselves.
Why are we not absolutely marvelling at the incredible job they’re doing? These tiny humans are learning how to function in a world that is entirely new to them. They are learning whole language systems, learning how to move and control the body they’ve been placed into, how to interpret and respond to its signals, how to keep themselves safe, how to interact with others, how to overcome challenges and solve problems.
And while they’re doing all of this deeply demanding, exhausting work, there are bigger humans towering over them – expecting them to do it rationally, calmly, and at a level far beyond their current developmental capabilities. Expecting them to follow “the rules”, even when those rules are unspoken, inconsistent, or only made visible once they’ve been broken.
When we allow ourselves to see the early years for what they truly are, our perspective begins to change. Rather than viewing this stage as preparation for what comes next, we start to recognise it as a period of profound development in its own right. Learning is not waiting to begin – it is already happening, constantly, in ways that are often subtle, messy, and easy to overlook.
Valuing the early years in this way asks us to slow down, to ease our focus on future outcomes, and to attend more carefully to the present. These years are not a warm-up for “real” learning later on. They are where foundations are laid, identities begin to form, and children make sense of the world they’ve arrived into.
What the Early Years Lens is
When I talk about The Early Years Lens, I’m talking about a way of seeing early childhood that places development first.
It’s a lens that asks us to look closely at what is developmentally appropriate for young children – not what is expected of them by systems, timetables, or future goals. It reminds us that behaviour, learning, communication and emotional expression all make sense when they are understood within the context of early development.
Looking through an early years lens means slowing down enough to notice what children are already doing, rather than focusing on what they are not yet able to do. It means recognising that skills don’t appear in isolation, but grow out of movement, play, relationships, curiosity and experience. It means valuing process over product, and understanding that development unfolds in uneven, individual ways.
Most importantly, an early years lens resists the idea that childhood should be rushed. It challenges the assumption that earlier is always better, or that readiness can be forced. Instead, it holds the belief that when expectations align with development, children are more likely to feel safe, confident and capable – and learning is more likely to take root.
What happens when we don’t use this lens
When we stop viewing early childhood through a developmental lens, expectations often begin to drift. Young children are asked to behave, communicate and cope in ways that don’t yet match where they are developmentally – not just in classrooms, but at home, in public spaces, and across everyday life.
This can look like expecting children to regulate big emotions before they have the neurological capacity to do so, to sit still and focus for long periods before their bodies are ready, or to engage with learning tasks before the foundations that support them are in place. Often, these expectations are well-intentioned. Adults are trying to help children succeed, prepare, or “get ahead”.
But when expectations move ahead of development, the impact can be quietly harmful.
Children may begin to experience repeated failure in situations that were never designed with their developmental stage in mind. Confidence can be eroded. Curiosity can shrink. Learning, which should feel exploratory and motivating, can start to feel pressured or unsafe. Over time, children may disengage – not because they are unwilling, but because the demands placed on them exceed what their developing brains and bodies can comfortably manage.
In trying to rush children forward, we can unintentionally hold them back. Skills built on shaky foundations are less secure, less flexible, and more vulnerable under pressure. When early development is bypassed rather than supported, children often have to return to those missed foundations later on – sometimes with greater difficulty than if they had been given time in the first place.
This isn’t about blame. It’s about recognising that development can’t be hurried without cost. When we overlook the early years as a distinct and vital stage of life, we risk misunderstanding children – and misinterpreting what they are telling us through their behaviour, their learning, and their responses to the world around them.
What becomes possible when expectations align with development
When expectations are brought back into line with development, the experience of early childhood begins to change.
Children are more likely to feel safe. When the demands placed on them make sense for where they are developmentally, they are less frequently pushed into situations that overwhelm their nervous systems or leave them feeling unsuccessful. This sense of safety creates the conditions children need to explore, take risks in their learning, and engage with the world around them more confidently.
Learning also becomes more secure. Skills that emerge in their own time, supported by strong foundations, tend to be more flexible and more resilient. Rather than learning in order to perform, children learn because they are curious, engaged, and ready. Progress may appear slower on the surface, but it is often deeper and more enduring.
When expectations align with development, behaviour starts to make more sense. Adults are better able to interpret what children are communicating, rather than focusing solely on what needs to be corrected. Responses become more attuned, more patient, and more supportive.
Perhaps most importantly, children retain their relationship with learning. When early experiences are shaped around development rather than pressure, children are more likely to approach new challenges with confidence rather than fear. They learn that effort is safe, mistakes are part of the process, and their worth is not measured by how quickly they meet adult expectations.
Aligning expectations with development doesn’t remove challenge – it places it where it can be met. And in doing so, it allows early childhood to be what it is meant to be: a time for building strong foundations, growing capability, and making sense of the world at a pace the developing child can manage.
Returning to the early years lens
Looking at childhood through an early years lens is, at its core, an act of respect.
It asks us to pause before judging, to look more closely before expecting, and to consider development before outcomes. It reminds us that young children are not unfinished versions of older ones, but whole people living in a stage of life with its own logic, rhythms and needs.
This lens doesn’t deny the importance of what comes next. It simply refuses to let the future overshadow the present. It holds early childhood as a time worthy of care and understanding in its own right – not because it leads somewhere else, but because it matters now.
Throughout this space, I’ll be thinking out loud about early years development through this lens: about learning, behaviour, play, mark-making, emotional growth and the foundations children build long before formal schooling begins. Not to offer quick answers or universal solutions, but to slow the conversation down and bring it back to what makes sense for young children.
When we take the early years seriously – and on their own terms – we give children something deeply valuable: time, understanding, and expectations that meet them where they are.