If you want a fun way to build your child’s critical thinking and reasoning skills, one of the best games you can play is probably one you already know.

Would You Rather?

Just two options and one simple question:

“Which would you choose?”

The magic is not really in the answer.

It’s in the explanation.

If your child is preparing for a reasoning test — verbal reasoning, non-verbal reasoning, critical thinking assessments — it’s very easy to become obsessed with scores, timings and getting the right answer.

But the bigger opportunity is often being missed, because reasoning isn’t about the correct answers.

It’s about how you came to find an answer. It’s about how you think.

And arguably, the reasoning behind an answer is just as important as the answer itself. Maybe even more important if you care about the long-term picture beyond standardised tests.

Verbal and non-verbal reasoning tests were originally designed to measure what psychologists called fluid intelligence. The idea was that these tests assessed something fixed. An innate ability. A kind of built-in mental capacity that couldn’t really be taught.

If that were true, preparation would be pointless.

But it isn’t strictly true.

Vocabulary isn’t just about sounding clever in an exam.

It shapes how we experience the world.

The words we choose don’t simply describe what’s happening around us. They influence how we interpret it. This idea is known as linguistic framing.

And it has far-reaching effects…

Here’s a counterintuitive idea.

If you want to help your child learn something new, even if you don’t feel confident in the subject yourself, one of the most effective things you can do is model the wrong way to do it.

Yes, deliberately get it wrong.

It sounds strange. It works remarkably well.

In a world where ChatGPT can write poems in seconds and AI can paint portraits, many parents are asking us: Where does that leave human creativity, especially for our children?

Whether your child is in primary school just beginning to explore their imagination or in secondary school navigating more complex creative tasks, the question remains the same: how do we help them develop their unique voice in a world where technology can do so much?

Have you ever said something like, “My child’s creative, so they’re not really into maths!”, or “My child’s got a scientific brain, languages just aren’t their thing…”?

If so, you’re not alone. It’s a narrative I hear all the time and one I think we should start challenging.