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Darkness is just where the light hasn’t reached yet

  • Writer: Sonja Keerl
    Sonja Keerl
  • May 22
  • 4 min read

Updated: 6 days ago

My child once pointed at a woman on the bus and asked, loudly, why her skin was brown. Every parent knows that hot flush of embarrassment. The instinct is to shush, to apologise, to make the moment disappear.


But sit with the question for a second. There was no fear in it. No judgement. Just a small person who noticed something new about the world and wanted to understand it. That is not prejudice. That is curiosity, working exactly as it should.


I think about that moment a lot, because it tells me something I believe deeply. Children are not born afraid of what is different. They are born curious about it. Fear comes later, and it has to be taught.

An old idea about the dark

For most of human history, people were frightened of the dark. Not just the night, but everything they could not see or explain. The dark was where monsters lived. It was a thing to fear, a force pressing in from outside.


Then came a few centuries we now call the Enlightenment. And the quiet, radical idea at its heart was this. Darkness is not a monster. It is simply the absence of light. You do not defeat it by fighting it. You defeat it by bringing a candle.


I find that idea oddly comforting as a parent. Because it changes what the unknown is. The strange country, the unfamiliar face, the custom that makes no sense to us yet. None of these are threats. They are just places the light has not reached. Corners we have not understood yet.


How algorithms shrink a child's world

Here is what worries me. A child starts out wanting to bring the candle into every corner. Curious by default. Then we hand them a screen, and the screen does the opposite.


An algorithm does not want to widen a child's world. It wants to hold their attention. So it learns what they already like and feeds them more of it. The same kind of video, the same kind of face, the same kind of joke. The bubble gets warmer and smaller. The candle is quietly put away.


We are not switching off a child's curiosity. We are training it out of them, one comfortable loop at a time. And a child who never learns to look into the unfamiliar grows into an adult who fears it. The dark stays dark, and the monsters move back in.


You can see it happening at the dinner table. One child is deep in one world, another in a completely different one, and neither has any idea the other world exists. Two children in the same house, growing up in two separate corners of the same dark room. That is the opposite of what a screen full of the whole planet could be.

Seeing comes first

I have come to believe it starts with seeing. Not a cartoon version. Not a tidy postcard. The real thing, with all its strangeness and beauty intact.


You cannot understand what you have never been allowed to see. And you cannot love what you have been taught to fear. So the work, the actual work, is simple to say and hard to do. Keep the candle in the child's hand. Point it at the parts of the world they do not know yet. Let them look.


This is not about pretending everything is gentle. The world has hard corners, and children are sharper than we give them credit for. They can hold a true thing and a difficult thing at the same time. What they cannot do is understand a corner of the world they have never been shown. Seeing first. Understanding next. Judgement, if it comes at all, much later, and on better evidence.


That is most of what we are trying to do with Unomundi. Not to teach children that the world is safe, or that everyone is the same. They are not, and it is not. But to show them the world as it is, real places and real people, while they are still young enough to meet it with curiosity instead of fear.


Because the child on the bus was not the problem. The child on the bus had it right. She saw something she did not understand, and instead of looking away, she leaned in and asked. That is the whole thing. That is the candle. Our job is just to make sure nobody trains it out of her.





FAQs

Are children born afraid of people who are different?

No. Children are born curious, not fearful. Fear of difference is learned later. A young child who notices something unfamiliar tends to lean in and ask, rather than judge.

Algorithms are built to hold attention, so they feed children more of what they already like. Over time, this narrows their world and can train their natural curiosity out of them.

Unomundi is a cultural-discovery app where children aged 6 to 12 explore countries and cultures through stories, games, and conversations with Una, a warm AI guide.


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