One Dad Explains Why He Finally Blocked His Kid From Playing Roblox

Plus, what it means to say "no" to one of most popular online social spaces for kids.

Photo by Oberon Copeland @veryinformed.com on Unsplash

Roblox is big in our house, but we have one important rule: we don’t buy robux. It’s okay if you get robux from a gift card, but we do not indulge the platform’s exploitative whims. (Once, I bought my oldest daughter a duck hat that cost a single dollar.) Otherwise, we use Roblox as a social platform, and I’ve made my peace with it.

It’s understandable, however, that not every parent would come to that conclusion.

One of the first stories on Crossplay examined the pitfalls of letting Roblox into the home, and included a quote from research psychologist Dr. Rachel Kowert about the challenges with the moderation of online spaces where children might play.

In her home, Kowert said no to Roblox.

Kowert does allow her children to play Minecraft on a private server with friends and family, but does not allow her children to play Roblox, despite acknowledging "everyone else is playing it."

“Everyone else is playing it.” This is the hard part about saying no, because for all of Roblox’s harms, you’re cutting a child off from a popular social space. My family first encountered Roblox during the heights of COVID-19, when my oldest became friends with a neighbor. They were not allowed to play inside, but the neighbor kid played Roblox. In the spirit of friendship and unthinkable circumstances, I said yes to Roblox.

Thing is, it’s gone fine for us. Outside of Roblox chewing through whatever battery you throw at it, my oldest has respected the our house rules. She’s also kind when her sister asks to play with her, and finds ways to make her part of Roblox time. All good.

But former CNET editorial director Mark Serrels also said no, and wrote about the experience of coming to that conclusion, after initially saying yes, in a terrific rant in his newsletter, Bad Dad Redemption:

“Roblox is completely fucked and we need to talk about it. We need to tell more parents what’s really going on. We need to tell parents to spend time with children as they play. To see what’s really going on, to see how it impacts their children and their behaviour. I have kids, I get it. It’s so hard to monitor the media kids consume and how hard it is to wean them off devices. But as far as I’m concerned, Roblox is among the worst offenders, a wolf in Minecraft’s clothing, and the more parents are made aware of that fact, the better.”

He’s not wrong. Roblox is full of crud! But I also had to know more, which is why I pinged Mark and asked him to chat with me about his journey towards no, and what happened to his child’s social circle when it became clear he would be leaving Roblox.

---

Crossplay: You said "no" to Roblox. Are you a parent who says "no" a lot to video games, or is Roblox an outlier?

Mark Serrels: I think I was always hyper aware that my kids would have all these video games around them, and that would influence their relationship to them. I also understood that, for most kids, once they discover video games everything else is secondary!

So, maybe in some ways, I have been a bit more restrictive than other parents. If I don't stop my kid from playing video games, he's probably not gonna go and play sport, or do his homework, or do anything else, really? Kids really become obsessed with video games. In some ways, I'd almost forgotten that as an adult. My love for video games as a 10-year-old was borderline insane. I don't think I ever loved video games as much as I did as a 10-year-old boy?

And to add to that—without sounding arrogant—I also know more about video games than a lot of parents? I know who makes these games, I might have even visited the studios where these games were made. Crucially, I probably have a bit more insight into why these games were made and how they work on kids? 

So yeah, I've said no to a bunch of games. We said no to Fortnite for a while, but now I'm totally okay with that. I was wrong about Fortnite. We've said no to games that we think are too violent or have clear adult themes. The Roblox thing is complex. I said no at first, [and] had my mind changed. Watched the impact on my kids and their behaviour, said no again...[and] buckled to some fairly intense pressure for both of my sons. Then, went back to saying no again!

I'd say my relationship with Roblox and my kids has been the most tempestuous because of that back and forth. And also because it's so popular with other kids.

What was your understanding of Roblox before you were explicitly confronted with it and had to understand it?

Mark: I can't really remember! Unlike Minecraft and Fortnite, which always felt really connected to "gamer discourse," Roblox always seemed to fly under the radar for me. I think that's the case with a lot of parents, even those who are engaged in video game culture. Like, right now if you were to tell gamers that Roblox has more daily users than everything on Steam combined, I think they'd be shocked. (I know I was!)

What I'm trying to say is I was only vaguely aware of Roblox before my kids asked to play. I thought of it as a sort of Minecraft-adjacent, LEGO-type game where players built stuff? I wasn't aware of it as this sort of user generated wasteland. It almost felt like Roblox was connected to a parallel universe that I couldn't perceive?

The back-and-forth is understandable if you're a parent. We've all been there. But you said it impacted your kids’ behavior, which resulted in the most recent (final?) no. Why draw the line? What went wrong?

Mark: It's so hard to be consistent or stick to your guns on certain things. The boundaries are constantly being pushed. When you write about parenting and video games, you always come across folks who'll tell you what a bad job you're doing of parenting your child. But it's like Mike Tyson said, everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face. (In this metaphor getting punched in the face = having kids.)

I think the first time my kids played Roblox, I could tell immediately that something was off. Your mileage may vary, every kid is different, but I could see my kids getting quite desperate for robux, asking constantly for different skins, and getting a bit twitchy about always having to be on there. That's initially why I stopped letting my kids play it.

When my oldest turned 10, he convinced me to let him play again, mainly because a whole crew of his school friends had gotten into it. I felt like I was being a stick in the mud not letting him join in. But slowly, it started taking over all his free time in a way that made me feel uncomfortable. I'll sounds like an annoying dad here, but my 10-year-old is a really top notch athlete. He's the state rock climbing champ and plays soccer in a rep team here in Australia.

I noticed that he'd lost all interest in practice, training—anything that wasn't Roblox, really. That was a huge red flag to me. We tried limiting it, but that made things even more difficult, so we had a long chat about it and both decided to pull the ripcord.

“I think the first time my kids played Roblox and I could tell immediately that something was off. Your mileage may vary, every kid is different, but I could see my kids getting quite desperate for Robux, asking constantly for different skins, and getting a bit twitchy about always having to be on there. That's initially why I stopped letting my kids play it.”

What happened after the final no? Did your kid throw a tantrum? Did they feel disconnected from their friends? I'm curious what happened after, and how you dealt with the consequences, given they were probably upset about it.

Mark: I think most of the conflict was in the lead up, and a lot of it was probably my fault. Every time I saw my son playing Roblox, I'd get really noisy and obnoxious like, "UGH, why are you playing THIS game. I HATE Roblox, this game is the WORST." 

We'd argue about him spending time with the game, without me being assertive and saying, "actually no, I don't want you playing this, and here's why.” In hindsight, that's what I should have done in the first place. 

Because when I sat my son down properly and explained why I was finally banning Roblox, he was actually quite receptive. That was a little shocking. In kid language, I tried to explain my issues (the predatory design mechanics mainly) and bizarrely, when I finally told him he could no longer play, I think I sensed... relief?

It's a bizarre comparison, but a few months earlier I had gone to a silent meditation weekend retreat. I'm not a mad hippy guru type, but I'd always wanted to give it a go. At the start of the trip, they asked us to hand in our mobile phones and I cannot explain the deep-seated relief I felt when the instructor locked my phone away. Being freed from all those compulsive behaviours—doom scrolling, email, social media—was like a weight being lifted. Maybe it's my imagination, but I sense a similar relief in him. 

The hardest part, I think, was watching him being removed from the social aspects of Roblox. A lot of his friends played after school, they even had a kid's messenger dedicated to it. But I think it was mostly fine. He jumped on the chat, he could talk to all his buddies, but they were playing Roblox and he was playing Fortnite.

And of course, because kids rotate endlessly between these big, mega service games, before we knew it all his friends were joining him on Fortnite and all was well with the world. 

Have a story idea? Want to share a tip? Got a funny parenting story? Drop Patrick an email.

---

Also:

• My younger daughter, 4, is starting to pay attention to Roblox. So far, she’s only really interested in it because she wants to emulate her sister, so it’s adorable.

• What becomes a “no” in each house is different, because each kid is different. If my oldest was acting this way with Roblox, I’d have taken it away eventually, too.

• What have you said “no” to, and what led you there? Chime in below!