Sometime last year, I had a chat with a man who was researching unschooling for a work project. He was in his late twenties and didn’t have children, but he was fascinated by the concept of unschooling. He loved the idea of children having more autonomy, and learning naturally as they go about their daily lives, but he also had some misgivings. He shared with me, in a worried tone, that he had heard about a family who had let their children learn to read by playing Minecraft. He clearly felt like this was somehow extreme or negligent. Our conversation was cut short around this point, so I was unable to point him to my blog posts about my daughter learning to read and how helpful Minecraft was in the process. But his comment was a useful reminder of how set we are in our views of what proper learning should look like and how it can feel challenging to look at things differently.
This short exchange came back to me recently after interviewing parents for a book about unschooling. Time and again, Minecraft was cited as one of the most significant ways in which their children had learned to read. And the experiences the parents described were identical to our own. Their children had become avid Minecraft players and their desire to learn and create was so powerful that even the most reluctant reader was motivated to have a go at deciphering what was on the screen and learning to write commands themselves. Typically, the parents were called upon in the beginning to read things for them, and to help them spell things out, but over time, the children got tired of needing to wait for a parent to come to their aid and started to figure it all out themselves.
Why is Minecraft so good for learning to read? I’m sure there are lots of reasons, such as the clear visuals and the way that all the objects are labelled, or the fact that with just a few basic commands and a handful of words under their belt, players can still be extremely creative. There isn’t much in the way of explanations, so there’s no complex text to put a fledgling reader off. By the time my daughter was playing Minecraft, her big brothers were deep into creating end portals and magnificently complex structures with mineshafts and exploding TNT. With her limited vocabulary and a little help from me, my daughter built a big farm with lots of animals, which she individually named. She kept a little list of the words she needed in a notepad next to her and would add to it when she learned something new, so she wouldn’t forget it and then need to wait for me to come and help. As she learned new words and experimented, the names of her animals became a bit more sophisticated and she was able to communicate with her brothers and friends in the chat. It was a gift to watch this process of learning and applying knowledge unfold for her in real-time.
It’s been a while since our children last played Minecraft, but what I most remember is the enthusiasm. The more our children learned, the more they created, explored and problem-solved, and the more fun they had. They were immersed in a world that was meaningful to them and they were extremely motivated to progress. I can’t imagine any book, phonics game or reading app that could even begin to compete with the dedication to read that is inspired by Minecraft.
And perhaps the main reason that Minecraft is so effective for helping children learn to read is precisely because learning to read is not the aim—it’s just a by-product. Just like in daily life, the deepest learning happens naturally when children are relaxed and motivated to explore. And the fact that learning isn’t the aim also means there are no concerned adults monitoring the vocabulary so that it matches the supposed reading-level of some standardised and imaginary schoolchild. So, just as a child will encounter ‘horse’ and ‘table’, so they will also happily have a go at words like ‘emerald ore’, ‘inventory’, and ‘stonecutter’. And, as a child becomes more proficient in their reading, they may well delve into the complex world of the Minecraft Wiki, reading long and complicated texts in search of new answers and solutions.
Research supports the power of autonomy and motivation in learning, especially through gaming. Constance Steinkuehler, a professor and researcher in games and learning, argues that video games foster deep learning by immersing players in complex systems that require sustained engagement. She points out that games like Minecraft provide meaningful contexts in which children naturally want to participate. One particularly striking piece of Steinkuehler’s research into reading shows that when students who struggle with reading at school engage with game-related content, like forums or guides, they often perform above their school reading levels, simply because the material is tied to something they care about. Interestingly, this difference only happens when the children are allowed to choose the gaming texts themselves:
“Boys’ reading performance was the same on game-related and school-related texts when the topic was assigned. However, when allowed to choose topics, so-called struggling readers performed 6.2 grade levels above their diagnosed competency due to doubled self-correction rates. Thus, game-related reading may be particularly efficacious for readers identified as struggling in school, not because such reading is games-related but because it is interest-driven, fostering persistence in the face of textual challenges among students who might otherwise disengage.”
James Paul Gee, another prominent scholar who has carried out research into gaming and learning, describes how video games create “situated learning” environments. This means that players learn best when they are actively doing, experimenting, and applying knowledge in context. Both Steinkuehler and Gee highlight how games like Minecraft are not only good for literacy but also critical thinking, creativity, and collaboration. Again, they attribute this largely to the motivation to play, which encourages children to persist in learning tasks.
I was reminded of my son coming home from his first formal English class when he started going to the local college at 17. He noticed that most of the students were disengaged from the learning, and he figured it was because learning things out of any meaningful context is generally just a really difficult approach. There was nothing in the class that felt relevant to the students’ lives. Minecraft excels in allowing players to create contexts in which they are deeply involved and motivated, in a way that even the best and most creative teacher would struggle to replicate.
Whilst researching Minecraft and reading I also came across hundreds of Minecraft-related books. Some of these are manuals, some story books, and some are specifically designed to help children learn to read. Of course, finding books that are based on your child’s interests makes lots of sense, and I recognised some of the books from when my children were younger. But I also came across a few articles and threads promoting these books as a great way to get your child off the screen and engaged in some actual reading. I’m entirely sympathetic with the appeal of this because I probably bought the Minecraft books myself with a similar motivation. However, there’s something gently ironic about the idea of parents trying to pull our children away from a great learning tool to sit with a book instead, because that’s how we think learning should look.
Which takes me back to the man I was talking to last year and why learning to read through playing Minecraft made him so uncomfortable. He didn’t actually use the word negligent, but the parents I spoke with did. They struggled with the feeling that they were being negligent because what was happening didn’t look anything like learning—it was fun, on a screen and required no adult involvement. Their children were having a great time, and they were able to get on with other things (apart from helping out with the odd spelling). They had probably imagined learning to read looking just like the man might have imagined—a child making words with wooden blocks, curled up in a chair with a picture book, or in our laps following our words with their fingers. Of course, all of these things can happen too, and a child who loves Minecraft can also love books and reading in lots of other ways. But, to assume that something fun and screen-based is somehow less worthy can limit our children and ourselves, and create conflict where there could be connection and learning.
If anything, the success of Minecraft as a way to learn to read should serve us as a reminder of what the foundations of deep learning are—autonomy, self-motivation, exploration and meaning. If you’re struggling with Minecraft in your house and feeling like you’re being negligent, sit with your child, watch them at work and see what naturally arises from these foundations. And remember that often the most powerful learning happens when it doesn’t look like learning at all.

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