Wooden vs. plastic: an honest guide

I curate toys for a living, and the question I'm asked most — at the shop, at weddings, once memorably in a bank queue — is some version of 'wooden is better, abi?' The honest answer is: sometimes. Wood has earned its halo, but a halo is not a buying guide. Some of the best toys we stock are plastic; some of the most disappointing things I've ever unboxed were wooden.

So here is the guide I actually use, with the shop talk taken out.

Where wood genuinely wins

Wood wins on the toys that get loved longest: blocks, stackers, play food, train tracks, the toy kitchen. The weight is the secret — a wooden block's heft teaches little hands about force and balance in a way a hollow plastic one can't, and a wooden tower falls with a satisfying honesty that's half the lesson. Wood also survives being handed down: a beech stacker will outlast three children and still look good doing it, which quietly changes the maths on its higher price.

There's a sensory argument too. Wood is warm to the touch, varies grain to grain, and tastes — because everything under two gets tasted — of nothing much at all. For the mouthing years, simple, well-finished wood with non-toxic paint is very hard to beat.

Judge a toy by what it asks of your child, not what it's made of — a toy that demands imagination beats a toy that performs, in any material.

Where plastic wins, fair and square

Precision, that's where. Interlocking bricks that click together and stay, magnetic tiles, anything with gears, axles or moving parts — these need tolerances wood can't hold at toy prices. Plastic also wins the bath, the beach and the outdoor bucket, where wood swells and splits. And good plastic is genuinely durable: quality bricks moulded thirty years ago still grip today, which is its own kind of sustainability — the most eco-friendly toy is usually the one that never needs replacing.

The plastic to avoid isn't plastic per se — it's thin, brittle, single-purpose plastic: the toy that does one thing, loudly, until it cracks in week three. That's not a material problem; it's a design problem wearing a material's reputation.

The checklist that actually matters

Whatever the material, run the same four checks. Can it be played with more than one way? (Open-ended beats scripted.) Will it survive being stood on? (It will be stood on.) Who is doing the playing — the child, or the toy? (Batteries that replace imagination are a red flag; batteries that enable building are fine.) And would a younger sibling want it in four years? If it passes those, buy it with a clear conscience — in wood, plastic, or both.