A cartoon vintage television with rabbit-ear antennas, its screen switched offPropaganda

July 2026

If you’re watching it, it’s for you

Bluey is a sweet show about a family of animated anthropomorphized dogs. The party line about Bluey, chanted by everyone from its fans to its creator, is that it is one of those rare shows that parents enjoy just as much as their kids. But, three seasons in, it’s clear that’s not true. Parents enjoy Bluey much, much, much more than their kids do.

Bluey is for kids like Lovevery (Lovevery is a subscription toy company that sends you a box of tasteful wooden toys every three months for a whopping $120.) toys are for kids. Sure, kids like Bluey and Lovevery, but that’s only because kids are not picky and they like basically all cartoons and toys. Parents, on the other hand, have latched onto Bluey with a fervor usually seen for zeitgeisty shows like Breaking Bad or Game of Thrones.

IMDb’s top-rated Bluey episodes — Sleepytime, The Sign, and Cricket, each with the correct thumbnail — with their rating counts of 11K, 5.7K, and 2.8K highlighted in red

This is the IMDb page for Bluey. Notice that the top-rated episodes have thousands of ratings. The kids who are supposed to be watching Bluey barely have hand-eye coordination, let alone IMDb accounts. These ratings are by adults, and they’re entirely unprecedented.

Compare them to ratings for two other popular shows aimed at the same age range.

IMDb’s top-rated Paw Patrol episodes, with rating counts of 74, 32, and 60 highlighted in red, and two episodes sharing the same generic promo image instead of real thumbnailsIMDb’s top-rated Gabby’s Dollhouse episodes, with rating counts of 14, 12, and 24 highlighted in red — the #2 episode’s thumbnail is a still from Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood, a different show entirely

Both Paw Patrol and Gabby’s Dollhouse have less than a hundred ratings on their top episodes. Not only that, but the metadata is all fucked up too. There are missing episode title cards and a title card that belongs to another cartoon entirely.

Bluey’s subreddit has 183K members. Not only does no other kids’ show have a subreddit nearly as big, but r/DanielTigerConspiracy, a subreddit dedicated mostly to complaining about all kids’ shows, only has 125K members. Parents literally love Bluey more than they hate the rest of the dreck kids watch.

And it is dreck. Most cartoons kids watch are complete garbage. I don’t have to tell you. Baby Shark has 17 billion views, which means you have heard it several times. Most kids’ shows are more of the same. And I find it hard to believe that the same kids who willingly watch hours of Pinkfong also appreciate the subtle artistry of Bluey.

Parents eat up the subtle artistry though. No child on Earth cares that the soundtrack to Sleepytime was a piece by Gustav Holst, but adults will not shut up about this.

Sleepytime, if you didn’t know, is the top-rated Bluey episode of all time, and it is a good case study.

Chilli reads Bingo a bedtime story about a baby chick hatching from its egg
The first lines of the episode are Mum reading to her younger daughter, Bingo, about a baby chicken that imprints on her mum. This is on-the-nose, and very typical for the show. The show is obsessed with the parent-child relationship in a way that’s deeply unusual for kids’ shows. Kids in kids’ shows usually spend most of their time with friends, or with random animals or toys. But not the Heeler family.
Chilli stands in the doorway of Bingo’s darkened bedroom, its walls covered in glow-in-the-dark stars, as Bingo lies in bed with her stuffed bunny
After the bedtime story is done, Mum says But remember, I’m always here if you need me in a tone that suggests she’s going off to war or seriously ill, but this is just another regular bedtime! Bluey loves to shovel warmth and meaning all over everyday moments.
Bluey and Bingo sprawled asleep in the parents’ bed mid-kick, while Bandit sleeps beside them in an eye mask
As the episode proceeds, Bluey (figuratively) kicks Mum out of the parents’ bed and Bingo (literally) kicks Dad in that same bed. Neither parent says even a word of complaint. The parents are often preternaturally generous and patient in situations like this. Even after the Dad gets kicked in the balls, his reaction is only to whisper Biscuits.
In Bingo’s dream, she is a tiny speck floating in front of an enormous, gently glowing sun
In her dreams, Bingo at one point basks in the warmth of the sun, while in real life at the same time, she’s cuddling with her Mum. It might sound like I’m exaggerating when I say that Bluey depicts a world where the parent is the indispensable center of a child’s universe, but it’s actually, literally, textually true. The sun then intones with warmth and meaning Remember I’ll always be here for you, even if you can’t see me, because I love you. Again, this is not a dead mom in a flashback, this is supposed to be a regular bedtime in the Heeler house.
Chilli reaches out excitedly, seen from baby Bluey’s point of view, with Bluey’s little paws raised in the foreground
Baby Race, another top-rated episode, is about how Bluey’s Mum felt like she wasn’t a good mother because Bluey learned to walk late. The episode ends with Bluey learning to walk only so she can get closer to her Mum.

People talk about Bluey’s being a great kids’ show because parents actually want to watch it, but I think Bluey’s true genius is creating a show that tugs shamelessly and incessantly at parents’ heartstrings while still being tolerable to kids.

“Oh, but my kids LOVE Bluey –”

Do they? Do they really?

Do they love Bluey, or do they love watching TV and would be equally happy with Superkitties or Spidey?

“They’re always asking for Bluey specifically. Come on, it has been the most-streamed show in America for two years running.”

And you think this is unconnected to the fact that you’re a Bluey superfan, and your kids deeply care about what you think and are often trying to mimic you?

The business of business is business

Most episodes of Bluey are about the family playing a fun, imaginative game together. It’s ironic then that the message of togetherness and playfulness is undercut by its medium, which forces families to stare silently at a screen. This contradiction is only heightened by Bluey merch.

A lot of Bluey’s merch is an indulgence. Not in the sense of “oh, I want to get my kids a cute toy from Target because I’m feeling indulgent.” No, in the medieval Catholic Church sense.

Bluey shows you over and over how fun it is to play with kids. Even if you’re not good at coming up with make-believe games, you can be like Chloe’s dad and read a Wikipedia page about octopi with your kid.

But playing with kids is difficult. The number one parental complaint about Bluey is that it sets too high a standard when it comes to play. A highbrow glowing review of Bluey literally starts with the sentence “I’m not great at playing with my kids.” and in the last paragraph says “I don’t begrudge Bluey its magical imaginary of idealized parenting. It creates envy and longing and a touch of shame.”

And so you can buy Bluey merch to absolve you of the envy and longing and touch of shame. The merch gives you the vibes of being in the Bluey universe without you actually having to do the hard work of playing with your kids to create the Bluey universe in your own home.

You don’t want to play Keepy Uppy, the game that requires you and your kids to keep a balloon from falling to the ground? You can buy Keepy Uppy, a motorized plastic contraption that sort of gestures at the same concept but wraps it in a bunch of rules and game objectives.

You don’t want to play Hide and Seek, the game that requires only two people and a home? You can buy Hide and Seek, a Bluey robot that your kid can hide and then seek? I’m not sure how the logistics of this would even work.

You don’t want to play Restaurant, the game where your kids come up with a wack-ass menu and you pretend to enjoy their imaginary food? You can buy Restaurant, a game that makes you match fifty itty-bitty tokens, at least until you invariably lose some of them.

You don’t want to play Pass the Parcel, the game that forces you to confront exactly what kind of toxic parent you are? You can sidestep that personal epiphany and buy Pass the Parcel, another game with itty-bitty tokens that will get lost at some point.

You don’t want to play Operation, the game where you lie down on the floor and let your pretend-doctor children cut you open? You can buy Operation, the game where they can trace a picture of someone else’s cartoon dog-dad instead.

I don’t blame Bluey creators for wanting to get paid. They’ve made a wonderful show and they deserve their checks. I support them selling their plushies and posters and pancakes that are completely regular except for their packaging, and you know what, even their baked beans, sure. But games like the above examples seem like a step too far. It undercuts the message of a show that’s all about “parents should get down on the floor and be interested in their kids’ imaginary games” to sell branded plastic substitutes for those same games.

Aesthetically, I much prefer how Bill Watterson, the creator of Calvin and Hobbes, dealt with merch. He didn’t sell any. For the uninitiated, Calvin and Hobbes was the Bluey of its time. I am too lazy to provide a bunch of examples to prove my point, but briefly:

A Calvin and Hobbes Sunday strip: Calvin, bundled up for the snow, pesters his dad working at his desk; the dad gives in, they build snowmen together outside, and he finishes his paperwork alone at night
Sleepytime from a bygone era.

Calvin’s best friend is Hobbes, who is either a stuffed tiger or a real tiger, and Watterson simply said, I’m never selling you a Hobbes plushie to confirm which one it is so you’ll have to live with the uncertainty and measure your fading childhood by how steadfastly you can believe in the real tiger.

Bluey could do this too. It could make parents confront the fact that they can’t or won’t play with their kids without an instruction booklet, but instead it sells indulgences.

Whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth

It’s easy to be relentlessly negative about popular things and tear them down, but I do truly love lots of things about Bluey, foremost among them how it depicts the parent-child relationship (I’m a parent after all). Not the sappy sleepytime stuff about parents being the center of the kids’ world, but its answer to the most elemental question of “Why have kids at all?”

If you’re a non-religious person living in a developed country, this is the question with no answer.

What’s left? Why have kids at all?

At this point, there is only one socially acceptable answer left. You should have kids because they’ll give you someone to serve. It is deeply good for the soul to feel needed, and no one will ever need you as much as your young children will, and that is an incredible source of meaning in the world. Written out like that, it sounds exhausting, but Bluey makes this seem magical, with the Heeler parents always enthralled by their adorable little tyrants. It may not be the pro-natalism we need, which would require big budgets and big changes, but for now, it is the pro-natalism we have.