“Maybe we’re all in a dream and when someone wakes up we will disappear,” muses Louis, aged 4½, pursuing a surreal line of philosophical inquiry while pushing the last dregs of Coco Pops around his bowl.

We have reached this abstract state of affairs by looking at some pictures of Superman in his favourite comic book and discussing the nature of reality. Normally, reading Superman would provoke nothing more in-depth than a discussion about who could destroy whom the quickest. But this morning is different. Intrigued by new research which indicates that even young children can benefit from philosophical thinking, I’m interested to see how my young son fares as a diminutive Descartes-in-the-making.

I start by asking if he thinks Superman is real or not, which leads surprisingly quickly to trickier questions touching on definitions of fiction and reality. “Well, Batman is fiction; it’s what’s in people’s heads and reality is another word for real.” “And what do you think we mean by ‘real’? “What happens every day?” So far, so logical. I wonder if we’re ready for a bit of Cartesian duality. “So, Louis, where is your heart?” Points to chest. “And your brain?” Points to head. So where do you think your thoughts come from? Heart or brain?” Looks blank. “Sometimes I feel things in my tummy,” he says. OK, where do you think God lives? Long pause. “Maybe a bit of God is in everyone. Maybe he’s in everything, even the trees.”

Gosh. A pantheist, barely out of Pampers. Whereas adults would be more self-conscious and considered in their replies, children will answer almost anything you put to them, regardless of its complexity, in a much more self-assured, instinctive — and enthusiastic — way. Possibly one of the reasons is because the issues they really care about are so central to philosophical inquiry. Death, for instance, is very much part of a four-year-old’s world. “Where will you go when you die, Mummy?” or “Will you die before me?” are questions parents have to confront.

Now, it seems, it’s something we should be encouraging. After tracking a secondary school in Clackmannanshire, researchers from Dundee University discovered that learning philosophy can improve children’s levels of emotional intelligence significantly and even raise their IQ scores by 6½ points. There is also evidence that exploring philosophical concepts can have a long-term impact on their relationship skills, making youngsters more aware of their own feelings and the feelings of others, while modifying their classroom behaviour.

Clackmannanshire Council is so impressed by the results that it is also funding philosophy teaching in primary schools for children as young as 4. Similar projects are being launched in primary schools nationwide. “It’s definitely increasing and we’re struggling to meet demand,” says Lizzy Lewis, the developmental manager for Sapere, the Society for Advancing Philosophical Enquiry and Reflection in Education, based at Oxford Brookes University.

Sapere’s approach emphasises “community of inquiry” in which children are encouraged to choose a question, prompted by a book or picture, and then to reflect on certain issues with fellow classmates. “We get children to really engage with each other,” says Lewis, who is also a philosophy infant teacher. “So, for instance, one child will say, ‘It’s never right to tell a lie’. And another will say ‘I don’t quite understand what you mean’. You don’t get younger children tackling the finer points of existentialism, but you do get a focus on critical thinking, the logical process by which we test our thoughts and ideas.”

Lewis believes that such an approach is key to building self-confidence. “Being listened to by your peers is hugely powerful. It’s not quite the same as group therapy but there are similarities.” She isn’t alone in linking these approaches to mental wellbeing. “The bottom line is that such teaching may provide a foundation for a happier, psychologically healthier adult life,” says Elizabeth Doherr, a psychologist who has researched the cognitive benefits of learning philosophy. She believes these skills can help children to think more flexibly about life’s challenges, which could have a “fundamental effect on an individual’s vulnerability to depression”.

It seems rather ironic that philosophy, of all subjects, might actually improve our children’s levels of optimism and happiness. Who’d have thought that endlessly reflecting on the nature of death, futility and meaninglessness — well, that’s if you read Sartre — could have a therapeutic benefit? Tim LeBon, a philosophical therapist and author of Wise Therapy(Sage, £18.99), isn’t surprised. “Of course, it can improve our children’s psychological wellbeing. Through philosophy we can make the thoughts behind our negative emotions less hidden.”

LeBon has already started working on emotional intelligence with his son Mike, 7, suggesting ways that he can manage his negative emotions, and dipping into philosophical theory on the way. “I use the Socratic method, not so much telling him what to do, but allowing him to discover it himself.” So when Mike admitted that he was anxious about not doing well in his homework, they explored the idea of considering the worst-case scenario and how bad that would feel; not that bad, as it happened.

Critics may say that these sorts of exchanges, both in the classroom and at home, are a rather diluted form of philosophy that could just as easily be described as sympathetic and intelligent conversation between adults and children. Julian Baggini, the editor of The Philosopher’s Magazine, agrees. “It’s not philosophy as I would see it. I’m not sure that you can even compare it to Socratic dialogue. Socrates ripped people’s ideas to shreds in the marketplace. If you were to interrogate children like Socrates did, the Child Protection Agency would accuse you of abuse. So it’s not about listening to people in an open way.” Yet even Baggini admits that we shouldn’t be too sceptical. “If you encourage children to think things through constructively, it’s beneficial and, on average, it probably makes you happier.”

Apart from the children, it’s also enjoyable for the parents to witness all that fresh, original thinking. “It opens up such a different level of conversation,” says Lewis. A bit like the one we had this morning, prompted by my new DVD, Socrates for Six Year Olds. If anyone asked me how I know that I exist at 10am, I’m not sure I’d know where to begin. Louis was a much more willing student. “I know I exist because lots of people see me. And if we didn’t, why would we have brains to think?” Cogito ergo sum? Descartes couldn’t have put it better himself.

Getting started Philosophical questions for 5-7-year-olds

What is the difference between imagination and dreams?
Do we have to be sad sometimes to be happy?
Can you love someone and hate them at the same time?
Is it ever OK to tell a lie?
What is love?
Are friends more important than family?
When/at what age do we start to think?
What happens when we die?

Further reading

Teaching Children To Think, by Robert Fisher (Nelson Thornes)

Thinking Together: Philosophical Enquiry for the Classroom, by Philip Cam (Hale & Iremonger)

Socrates for Six Year Olds, Sapere DVD collection, sapere.net; for more info, jnpartnership.co.uk

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