高清福利片

In the popular Japanese TV series聽, very young children are sent out into their neighbourhood on their first solo errand. The release of this long-running series on Netflix this year created聽a buzz聽among Western viewers about children travelling around their neighbourhoods on their own when only two to four years old.听

Some viewers felt it would be challenging, if not impossible, in their own neighbourhoods to give children such liberty. Many聽expressed longing for a time when children in their countries had similar freedoms.听

Another popular TV show, Bluey, depicts the realities of children鈥檚 transport in Australia today. The family鈥檚 young children are mostly seen travelling in the back seats of their parents鈥� 4x4s, roaming only houses or childcare centres.听

In one episode, the father recalls a time when at age 10 he and his peers roamed freely on BMX bikes around a holiday town. His children are shocked that he walked alone to a campsite shower block (鈥渉ey, it was the 80s!鈥�).

The contrasts with Japan raise the question: how can we rethink our cities so children can once again get around safely on their own and benefit from diverse neighbourhood experiences?

聽in Japan,聽聽of children have walked or cycled to and from school. Even kindergarten kids聽manage the trip on their own. Children鈥檚 levels of independent mobility are聽.

罢丑别听聽gently initiates children into community participation. In Old Enough, community members keep an eye on the children and help them along the way as they complete their errands. The youngsters develop confidence to navigate their local neighbourhoods.

Beyond personal and community values, what changes might make this possible for our own children? 高清福利片 on Japanese and Australian cities explores multiple factors聽that make cities child-friendly.

In many Japanese cities 鈥� though not all聽鈥� urban policies support low-traffic neighbourhoods with people-centred streets. People can walk to nearby shops and services because聽聽creates a neighbourhood blend of housing, retail and public services, while transit-oriented design means communities are built around public transport hubs.听

闯补辫补苍鈥檚听聽also reduce neighbourhood car traffic. A nationwide ban聽on overnight street parking is strictly enforced. Street parking is especially risky聽for young children.听

Most buildings are exempt from minimum parking regulations and many homes and businesses have no parking. They lease nearby聽聽if needed. Parking lots in cities like Tokyo are typically small (the size of one housing plot or less) and some use space-efficient car-stacking technology.

Because of these policies, many Japanese urban neighbourhoods function like 鈥溾��. Most car traffic and parking is around main roads. Inner-neighbourhood streets have very low speed limits (often around 20km/h) and are relatively car-free.听

Cars are 鈥済uests鈥� passing through neighbourhoods that belong to walkers and cyclists. Drivers give way to pedestrians, including the little ones in Old Enough, when they raise a hand (or flag made by their parents) to cross the road.

Australian children had similar freedoms聽before we became a car-based society.听, children as young as four were able to venture out on their own.听

While children鈥檚 ability to get about on their own in their local neighbourhood varies widely by country, in Australia independent mobility has plummeted in only a generation or two. What parents once did unthinkingly, their children now cannot contemplate.

聽of children were driven to school in the 1970s. By 2003, it was nearly 70%. Australia鈥檚 overall rates of walking and cycling to and from school聽聽since then.

School drop-off chaos is a recent phenomenon. Common reasons聽by parents include increased distances to school and other destinations, and fears of abduction or even others鈥� judgments. Escorting children on their travels is often seen聽, and not the community as in Japan.

While risks to children are real,聽perceptions聽of risks and of who is responsible for children鈥檚 safety reshape places and lives. The priority given to car traffic and street parking has led to cities being聽聽rather than children and their needs.

When cars first appeared in American (and Australian) cities, the street was seen as the domain of children. Planning decisions of that time聽made now-surprising references聽to children having a right to public space, protected from:

鈥淸鈥�] the occupation, by moving and parked automobiles, of larger portions of the streets, thus detracting from their safety and depriving children of the privilege of quiet and open spaces for play鈥�.

Since then, zoning, road rules聽and even responses to unsafe roads such as playgrounds聽have deprived children of the freedom to experience their neighbourhood on their own.听

Allowing children freedom to move safely around their neighbourhoods has聽. These include physical and mental health, sense of belonging and place, socialisation and participation in public life, and even meaningful climate action.听

People-oriented streets also have community-wide benefits: improved public health and safety, better air quality, less noise, more green space, reduced heat and flooding, and more equitable communities because of non-car transport options.

The contrast between Australian cities and Japan, and our suburbs of the not-so-distant past, raises challenging questions. Perhaps the remarkably child-friendly outcomes we鈥檙e seeing in Japan can inspire us to rethink what kinds of neighbourhoods are possible 鈥� and what kinds of lives our children can have.

This article is written by Postdoctoral Research Fellow Rebecca Clements from the School of Architecture, Design and Planning, and was originally published in .听