Not-Netflix Natter Episode 3 -Where did quiet children’s stories go?

Calm reflections on children’s stories, television, and why quiet storytelling still matters.

Quiet children’s stories haven’t vanished because children stopped liking them. They’ve faded because television now rewards speed, familiarity, and repeatability — and quiet stories ask for time.

There was a time when children’s television trusted its audience. Stories unfolded slowly. Characters mattered. Episodes lingered. Programmes such as The Flaxton Boys, Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys, and Black Beauty didn’t compete for attention — they earned it.

Today, children’s content tends to fall into three broad categories: animation (particularly for younger viewers), franchises, and juniorised versions of adult formats. There is nothing inherently wrong with any of these. But together, they leave far less space for quiet, live-action storytelling aimed at older children.

There have been periods when live action dominated the after-school imagination — Hannah Montana, and more recently Austin & Ally, Sydney to the Max, Raven’s Home, and The Ghost and Molly McGee. Yet the centre of gravity has shifted. Live action has gradually given way to animation and highly recognisable, repeatable formats.

Take The Story of Tracy Beaker. Originally a much-loved British children’s comedy-drama — grounded, funny, and emotionally real — it reflected ordinary lives and alternative families with warmth and humour. Its return, with the original actress now playing a mother, shows how characters can grow with their audience, and how children’s stories can carry continuity across generations.

The forces behind these changes are commercial as much as creative. Streaming platforms reward speed, recognisability, and repeatability. Algorithms privilege what performs quickly. Quiet stories, by definition, take time. They ask children to watch closely rather than react instantly.

Even long-running institutions have shifted. Blue Peter, once live and spontaneous, now leans far more towards pre-recorded certainty. Risk has been managed out — and something human has gone with it.

What children lose is subtle but significant: patience, empathy, reflection, and emotional continuity. Quiet, child-centred stories don’t shout their lessons. They allow children to discover them.

And yet the appetite hasn’t disappeared. The excitement surrounding large “event” television — including the upcoming Harry Potter series — suggests families still want immersive storytelling. It has simply been funnelled into fewer, larger properties.

This is not a call to abandon modern platforms or new formats. It is a call to widen the field.

Children deserve:

• Live-action stories written for them

• Special-occasion programmes that mark moments in the year

• Narratives that value character over competition

In the next Not-Netflix Natter, I’ll explore one programme whose journey reflects this shift more clearly than almost any other: Doctor Who?

 — and what its evolution suggests about children’s television today.

What quiet programme stayed with you — and what would you love today’s children to have?