Gardening vs. Carpentry: What Alison Gopnik’s Book Has Me Thinking About...
The other night with my friend Alex Watkins—a relentlessly curious thinker and kindred spirit in lifelong learning— I had the privilege and pleasure of chatting about The Gardener and the Carpenter by Alison Gopnik. In her usual style, Alex sprinkled in her subtle humor and deep questions, uncovering layers I hadn’t even noticed. Before long, our discussion branched far beyond the book, culminating in a deep dive into the critical role of childhood in shaping humanity’s future and how modern technology might influence parents' ability to nurture the metaphorical "garden" of growth. Let's go.
When Did Parenting Become a Verb?
Here’s a fun, slightly uncomfortable fact: “parenting” as we think of it—a whole industry centered around the act and art of molding the perfect little human—is probably the wrong approach. Alison Gopnik’s The Gardener and the Carpenter says as much, and not only do I agree, but I’ve staked my work on it. At our learner-driven school, the focus is on creating a rich environment for young people to explore and grow on their own terms, without the intense sculpting most of us were raised with. And yet, diving into this book was a great reminder of how much the gardener approach stretches, challenges, and sometimes contradicts our parent instincts.
Here’s where I landed on a few ideas Gopnik, (and my conversation with my friend Alex!) stirred up for me—about the paradox of wanting results, why tech still stresses me out, and what “gardening” really looks like on a day-to-day level.
The Gardener vs. the Carpenter (Or, the Subtle Art of Letting Go)
Gopnik’s main idea is that being a “gardener” (cultivating a rich, messy environment for growth) is worlds away from being a “carpenter” (chipping away at a vision, making each detail line up just right). If I’m honest, I embody both of these at various times. Running a learner-driven school means every day is about cultivating a setting where kids can encounter challenges, experiment with ideas, and make their own meaning. It’s in this freedom that we see young people truly come alive, often making leaps in their thinking that we never could have planned for. And yet, there are days where I feel the tug to shape the experience more closely - even more so outside of school, with my own children when I’m in “mom” mode.
It’s tempting to want to engineer outcomes, even if I know it’s misguided. In a world that worships metrics and constant “proof” of progress, the gardener mindset asks us to hold back on immediate results and instead watch the garden grow in its own unpredictable way. That sounds great—until you’re face-to-face with a parent losing their nerve while their child is struggling or stalling, and wanting updates on how their child “measures up” or becomes frustrated that we will not step in and fix a problem they are seeing. Honestly, these are the conversations that challenge me the most. Yes, I believe in cultivating curiosity, wonder, and autonomy over grades and test scores, but I understand that it can be hard for people to let go of traditional measures and trust the long-term process - especially in moments of discomfort.
The Tech Dilemma: Letting Kids from “The Future” Be Our Guide?
Gopnik doesn’t mince words about technology either, offering that, historically, new tools always made the previous generation nervous. This is nothing new—Plato himself thought that writing would rot the mind. Her point is simple: young people are from the future, and they’ll adapt in ways we can’t yet see. I can appreciate her optimism, but I still find myself torn about tech. Running a learner-driven school means students do have access to technology, but within intentional boundaries. They’re building with it, mastering core skills, and conducting research, not scrolling mindlessly or consuming brain rot. But Gopnik’s point nudges me: should I be more open to the “inevitability” of tech in young people’s lives and recognize that my blindspot may be rooted in my arbitrary place on the timeline of technological innovation? In other words, because I happen to have bridged the gap between certain technologies, and felt the pain of that transition (like no internet to internet, no cellphones to smartphones), am I projecting that on to my children’s experiences in unhelpful ways?
Part of me wonders if limiting tech is just delaying the inevitable. But then I think of the studies on screen time and mental health and am convinced that I’d rather be a “late adopter” than offer them unrestricted access too soon. Gopnik reminds me that the adaptability of young people is boundless; maybe I do need to let go a bit and keep in mind the broader context. I know that I will never have a “hands-off” approach with tech. Maybe we’re all just figuring it out as we go.
When the “Garden” Feels Like a Jungle: Embracing the Unpredictable
The beauty of a learner-driven environment is that no two days are the same—young people explore, connect, and solve problems in ways that often catch me by surprise. If I’m truly leaning into the gardener metaphor, then I need to see these unexpected twists as a core part of the process. But being a gardener is an art and science. Sometimes, stepping back feels natural, and other times it makes sense to break out the pruning shears to help clear the area for new growth.
Gopnik’s book challenged me to think about how comfortable I am with the unpredictable. When you let young people take charge of their learning, they surprise you—sometimes with extraordinary insights, other times with struggles that make you question the “garden” entirely. But when I see them problem-solving, collaborating, and even failing, I remember that these moments are the seeds of something much greater than any outcome I could plan for. This was a reminder that being a “gardener” isn’t always relaxing work—it’s occasionally chaotic, often a bit wild, but almost always worth it.
Traditions and Community: The “Lost” Layer of Parenting
Gopnik hits a nerve for me when she talks about the fading influence of extended families and community in raising children. In a way, her insight here is refreshing: she argues that some of our anxieties around “parenting” might stem from the fact that we’re trying to go it alone. But if I’m honest, we don’t all have the kind of extended family structure that would make us feel truly supported. In fact, the independence and mobility of modern life often make it hard to keep any large, intergenerational community going - family or not.
So, it has made me think: what does “community” look like in a modern context, especially in a school where we’re encouraging freedom and self-direction? Perhaps our new “village” is this group of like-minded families, all here to create a nurturing environment for young people together. Maybe traditions don’t have to be elaborate family meals or holiday gatherings—they can be small, shared practices that make our lives feel a little more connected. One family might pick up another’s kid from school; another might pitch in while a spouse is out of town. These small, intentional rituals can give us all a little bit of that tribal feel, even if it doesn’t look quite like it used to.
Do We Really Know “What’s Best”?
A final takeaway that struck me—and still lingers—is Gopnik’s idea (that if we’re successful) our children transition to something like a (albeit kind, wonderful, awesome, interesting) stranger from the future. We want to prepare them, and yet we can’t predict exactly what they’ll face or what skills will prove crucial. This is one of the main reasons I believe so much in the learner-driven approach. It’s about giving them room to explore and become adaptable - in humanity’s version of an innovation incubator - rather than loading them up with knowledge and skills that may not be what they need.
This feels reassuring, especially on days where I feel like we’re going against the grain by letting young people chart their own paths, rather than micromanaging them. If Gopnik’s right, then maybe it’s okay that we don’t have every answer and that our role is to set up a solid, nutrient-rich foundation. Then, the best we can do is to get out of the way and watch them grow.So, yes, The Gardener and the Carpenter hit home in a lot of ways, but it also left me with more questions—ones I’m guessing I’ll never fully answer. And maybe that’s the beauty of the gardener approach: embracing the uncertainty and knowing that even if we don’t see exactly what will bloom, there’s something valuable in simply nurturing the soil and seeing what emerges.
Our Podcast Guest
Alex Watkins is a professor and
program coordinator in the Technical Communications program at Austin
Community College. She is a deep and innovative thinker, and unwavering,
kind soul. I feel so lucky to know her! Related to this Episode
- The Gardener and the Carpenter by Alison Gopnik
- #BookClub Collection - check out our growing list of other books that we've enjoyed!
Our Podcast
There's more where that came from :-) Check out other Noodles in the Sandbox episodes wherever you get your podcasts!
About the Author
Angela is passionate about reshaping the way kids learn and grow. As the co-founder of Acton Academy Northwest Austin, Angela is dedicated to fostering a learner-driven environment where curiosity thrives and students take ownership of their educational journeys. When not working with young heroes, they’re often exploring big ideas on education, parenting, and lifelong learning right here on the blog.Want to learn more about our innovative approach to education? Check out Acton Academy Northwest Austin to see how we’re redefining school for the next generation of curious thinkers and independent learners.