OCTOBER 8 — “Why can’t I have it?”

It is probably a question every parent has heard.

We teach our children that they cannot have everything they want. We encourage them to save their duit raya. We explain that RM50 is more than RM10, and eventually introduce them to the familiar difference between “needs” and “wants”.

These are important lessons, and they remain important. But looking at the environment our children are growing up in today, I wonder whether teaching them about money is still enough.

Perhaps there is another question we need to teach them to ask: “Why do I want this?”

For many of us growing up, wanting something often began with seeing it in a shop, watching an advertisement on television or noticing that a friend at school had it. For children today, that journey can look very different.

They may discover a toy while watching their favourite creator. They may want a particular item because they have seen it repeatedly in short videos. A game may offer a new character, skin or upgrade. Something can suddenly become a “must-have” because everyone online seems to have it.

Sometimes children know they are looking at an advertisement. Sometimes they may not.

And this is where I think our conversation about children and money needs to go beyond simply teaching them how to save.

The internet is already an ordinary part of childhood. Unicef Malaysia reported in 2026 that 94 per cent of Malaysian children aged 12 to 17 use the internet, with nearly all of them going online daily.

That is not necessarily a bad thing. Our children learn online. They communicate, play, explore interests and discover things that previous generations could never access so easily.

But the same digital spaces are also commercial spaces.

Entertainment and consumption increasingly sit side by side. A child may watch someone unbox a toy without thinking about whether it is advertising. They may follow a creator because the content is entertaining, without necessarily recognising when a recommendation becomes commercial.

Even games now contain their own marketplaces. There are virtual currencies, upgrades, cosmetic items, rewards and limited-time offers. Children may learn what it feels like to want something rare or exclusive before they fully understand what spending RM10 here and RM20 there actually means.

This makes me wonder whether we have focused so much on financial literacy that we have overlooked another equally important skill: consumer literacy.

Financial literacy teaches a child to ask, “Do I have enough money?” Consumer literacy encourages them to ask, “Why do I want this in the first place?”

There is a subtle but important difference.

Financial literacy among children is already receiving attention in Malaysia. A 2023 study involving 419 primary-school children aged seven to 12 from Kedah, Penang, Perak and Perlis examined children's financial literacy and highlighted the important roles of schools, teachers and parents in strengthening financial knowledge.

Those efforts matter. But knowing how money works does not necessarily mean a child understands how the marketplace works on them.

Parents will probably recognise another familiar sentence: “But everyone has it.”

Peer influence is certainly not new. We wanted what our friends had when we were children too.

But “everyone” used to be a relatively small circle.

Today, that circle can be enormous. A child's reference point is no longer limited to classmates, cousins or neighbours. It can include YouTubers, gamers, influencers and hundreds of people appearing on their screens.

A product can become familiar very quickly simply because a child sees it repeatedly. And familiarity can easily become desire.

Adults experience this too. We see the same restaurant repeatedly on TikTok and suddenly feel curious about it. We read positive reviews and become more comfortable buying something. We watch other people using a product and begin imagining ourselves using it.

If adults can be influenced this way, we should not expect children to somehow be immune to it.

The difference is that adults have had years to develop some ability to recognise persuasion and understand financial consequences. Children are still learning both.

That is why perhaps saying “You don't need it” is sometimes not enough.

We could also ask: “Where did you see it?” “Why do you like it?” “Did someone tell you about it?” “Do you think they were trying to sell it?” “Would you still want it next week?”

These are simple questions, but they encourage children to think about their own consumption rather than simply responding to it.

Gaming makes this discussion even more interesting. Many games today are not simply games that children play. They contain small economies of their own.

Children encounter virtual currencies, collectible items, upgrades and limited-time rewards. They learn about scarcity, collecting and exclusivity. They also learn how easily waiting can sometimes be replaced by paying.

Malaysia is already beginning to recognise some of these concerns. In September 2026, the Communications and Multimedia Content Forum opened a public consultation on a proposed Gaming Sub-Code. The proposal covers areas including children's account settings and parental controls, transparency around in-game spending and randomised rewards, in-game advertising and creator promotions.

This is significant because it recognises that children's digital safety is not only about harmful content. The commercial design of the spaces in which children play matters too.

Unicef Malaysia has similarly argued that protecting children online should not simply mean removing their access. Digital spaces provide important opportunities for learning, connection and participation. The challenge is to make those environments safer and more child-centred.

Regulation can help. But regulation cannot accompany a child through every future commercial decision. Neither can parents.

Eventually, children need to learn how to recognise persuasion themselves. And that is why I believe consumer literacy needs to sit alongside financial and digital literacy.

Of course, this responsibility should not fall entirely on parents.

Businesses, platforms, game developers and content creators are also shaping the marketplace our children are growing up in.

Children are consumers, but they are not simply smaller versions of adult consumers. Their understanding of money, persuasion, value and consequences is still developing.

So perhaps businesses need to move beyond asking, “Are we allowed to market this way?” and occasionally ask, “Should we market this way to a child?”

There is a difference.

This does not mean we should stop marketing children's products or remove every commercial element from their digital lives. That would hardly be realistic.

But we should be able to expect greater transparency and responsibility when the consumer on the other side of the screen is still learning what it means to be a consumer.

As parents, we will probably continue having the same conversations our parents had with us: “You don't need another one.” “Save your money.” “Think before you buy.”

Those lessons still matter. But perhaps we need to add another one.

When our children suddenly desperately want the latest toy, game, collectible or whatever trend appears next, instead of only asking whether they can afford it, perhaps we can help them understand where that desire came from.

Teaching a child that RM50 is more than RM10 is financial literacy. Teaching them to save RM5 instead of spending it is financial literacy.

But teaching them to recognise why something suddenly feels so desirable is something different.

That is consumer literacy.

And in a marketplace becoming increasingly sophisticated at understanding what children want, perhaps our children also need to become a little more sophisticated at understanding the marketplace.

So the next time a child says, “But I really want it,” perhaps there is another question worth asking.

“Why?”

The author is a Senior Lecturer at the School of Business Management, Universiti Utara Malaysia.

* This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.