Chris Burton is getting ready to redecorate his house. The first reason for this is quite sad. His beloved cat Bella died recently, aged 17, and the indignities of old age mean a new carpet is in order. The other reason is that Burton, AKA Half-Asleep Chris, is turning his dining room into a recreation of London\u2019s Rainforest Cafe (also RIP \u2013 it closed in 2023). There will be temple walls and a talking tree, a fish tank and fronds. Thunderstorms every 20 minutes.<\/p>\n
He\u2019s doing most of the work himself, he explains, as we edge past an 8ft fibreglass tapir in the hall. But he\u2019ll need an electrician to rig the starry ceiling and a plumber to check the waterfall for leaks. I sneak a feel of the tapir: firm yet squishy, foam and five layers of silicone over a steel frame. Most people will only see rather than touch it, yet it has exactly the same amount of give as \u2013 I imagine \u2013 the real deal. This lack of half-measures is very Half-Asleep Chris.<\/p>\n
It is from this detached house on a suburban estate in London\u2019s commuter belt that Burton, 31, makes the videos that have turned him into an unlikely YouTube<\/a> sensation: more than a billion views, five million subscribers, a PO box deluged with drawings and knitted hats, Instagram DMs full of requests to hang out for the day, or take children to Legoland. \u201cIt\u2019s like, \u2018You\u2019re just giving your child away?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n The videos are mostly about his cats. Or Lego. Or a combination of the two. Or loopier contraptions he finds creatively fulfilling yet usually prove to be of more niche appeal. \u201cIt\u2019s very important to me not to be driven by videos that will perform well,\u201d he says. \u201cBut usually, the longer I spend on something, the fewer people watch it.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/p>\n He spent 14 months, off and on, constructing a jungle boat ride<\/a> through his garden that has notched up 9.1m views \u2013 five times fewer than a video in which he plays hide and seek with Bella and fellow cat Ralph<\/a>, which got 49m views.<\/a> (Kitten Henry joined the family last year.) He sent a working Lego rollercoaster into space<\/a>, which \u201ctook months and had loads of people involved \u2013 and it\u2019s amazing\u201d. But while that has 2.4m views, Giant Cat Destroys Lego City<\/a> (basically just Bella inspecting one<\/a> of his glorious model villages<\/a>) has 21m.<\/p>\n Who watches the videos? About 45% of his audience are in the US, another 10% from the UK, with Canada, France and the Philippines following behind. Data protection makes it hard to tell what proportion are children, but he does know his biggest demographic is 25 to 40-year-olds \u2013 ie, those most likely to be fairly new parents. His hope is that the videos encourage co-watching.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s hard to tell,\u201d he says, \u201cbecause I think an adult is less inclined to draw a picture of your cat and send it to you. But I want my videos to be family friendly. Nothing rude or obnoxious but not dumbed down. Children<\/a> can learn and infer a lot more than we give them credit for. But a lot of content is patronising, and that\u2019s a great loss. It\u2019s very much about the most popular thing, which is often the most excessive or in-your-face.\u201d<\/p>\n Perfect fit \u2026 Burton\u2019s working Lego rollercoaster in space. Photograph: Half-Asleep Chris<\/p>\n Burton keeps more distance. He is gentle, geeky, self-effacing: an anti-Blippi. Think Tony Hart or Mister Rogers, but young, with cats. His videos are kind and silly, with whimsical theme tunes and unambitious stopmotion graphics. There is charm and the cast-iron certainty that, should you stop co-watching for a bit to see to the peas, your child will be in safe hands.<\/p>\n Does he consider himself a role model? \u201cAbsolutely. The version of yourself you put in a video is job interview best-behaviour. But it\u2019s very important. A lot of YouTube content that appeals to children is awful and you wouldn\u2019t want your kid to watch it. A lot of the big names are big because they\u2019re outlandish and I don\u2019t think their content has any value whatsoever.\u201d He chucks Henry a ball. \u201cIt\u2019s frustrating watching videos that are so immoral do so well.\u201d<\/p>\n The calm, articulate version of Burton that he puts forward today seems, in most ways at least, identical to the job interview version. It\u2019s the school holidays and I\u2019ve brought my nine-year-old son Laurie along; Burton answers his questions with patience and respect, before handing him lollipop sticks and a spatula.<\/p>\n Adventure time \u2026 the theme park boat ride in Burton\u2019s garden. Photograph: Half-Asleep Chris<\/p>\n With these, Laurie has a crack at one of the activities from Burton\u2019s first book, The Unordinary Book of Ideas: Everywhen Projects for Rainy Days. Some of these have been trialled in videos (massive domino run round your house using household items<\/a>; fiery obstacle course for a remote control car<\/a>); others (make your own transit map, track your life in strange statistics) not yet. The manual also represents a manifesto against the perils of modern-day childhood. It seeks to stretch attention times. Many activities require a day to complete, others rather longer \u2013 in theory, the stone circle one needs 4,000 years.<\/p>\n Sometimes phones are used to film things, but otherwise it\u2019s rigorously luddite, a celebration of the homemade that delights in domestic detail. \u201cThings can seem mundane now, but one day they\u2019ll seem remarkable,\u201d says Burton, getting out his collection of unusual paperclips. He\u2019s particularly keen on coins, banknotes and stamps \u2013 tactile markers of a country\u2019s self-projection. One activity involves resending vintage used postcards. \u201cSomething like a third of kids in the UK have never sent or received a letter,\u201d he says, \u201cand last year the Danish postal system closed down<\/a> after 400 years. We should grieve for it.\u201d<\/p>\n Burton\u2019s fame may have digital origins, but his allergy to TikTok is pronounced and AI brings him out in hives. \u201cIt\u2019s awful and dangerous. It doesn\u2019t teach you anything. So much of a project is the journey. With the Rainforest Cafe, I have a very clear idea in my head of how it\u2019s going to go. But it\u2019s not going to go like that. It\u2019s going to go wrong. I\u2019m going to have to learn loads of random skills I didn\u2019t anticipate. But AI is just A to B.\u201d<\/p>\n Fiery \u2026 an obstacle course built by Burton. Photograph: Half-Asleep Chris<\/p>\n Yes, there\u2019s a data-entry benefit, he concedes, but \u201cAI shouldn\u2019t be anywhere near creativity or art\u201d. On Ralph\u2019s last birthday, among the sketches and paintings sent in were a couple of AI-generated cards. \u201cThat\u2019s so sad,\u2019\u201d he says, shaking his head. \u201cIt\u2019s heartbreaking.\u201d<\/p>\n Burton\u2019s strong and sometimes surprisingly stern moral core comes, he says, not from \u201ca particular set of beliefs\u201d but rather a sense of the importance of \u201cdoing the right thing, being a kind person and making something that isn\u2019t awful\u201d. After university, he worked in a clothes store, which he hated, then part-time in a travel agency, which he liked. He began making videos \u201cvery arrogantly, because I saw a lot of people doing it and thought I could do it a lot better\u201d.<\/p>\n After quite a lot of content<\/a> about foreign currency, he began his Lego binge series. He doesn\u2019t do those now, he says: too clickbaity, too much conspicuous consumption. And indeed the likes of I Built 250 Lego Sets in 24 Hours<\/a> (16m views) do feel discordantly grabby next to, say, I Picked up a Ton of Trash (Literally!)<\/a> (8m views).<\/p>\n Burton is not sanctimonious, yet his conscience is something of a selling point. \u201cI find it very frustrating when YouTubers encourage you to donate and don\u2019t donate anything themselves. When you go to Tesco and they want you to round up for charity \u2013 they\u2019re taking credit without donating anything themselves. That\u2019s not really a good deed. You need to lead by example.\u201d So the jungle boat ride video includes a brief explanation of the clean-water crisis in Cambodia, to which Burton duly donated enough to fund a whole school.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n Profits from Bella plushies, meanwhile, have been diverted to the RSPCA since her death. Announcing that to his fans was a challenge, he says: \u201cI knew I was going to make a lot of people very sad.\u201d Thirty-three thousand bereft YouTube comments<\/a> prove him right.<\/p>\n Stepping into Burton\u2019s house is an odd and exciting experience. All around are familiar sights and previous projects: the catio<\/a>! The cat mansion<\/a>! The ceiling train<\/a>! But there is also evidence of life that doesn\u2019t make it into shot, and the shock of this is testimony to his broadcasting skills. The intimacy he projects on screen is genuine, yet it\u2019s also curated. His world, it turns out, is richer than cats and Lego alone.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m kind of strict with privacy, and people seem to not see this because I involve the cats and that seems hyper-personal. But there are certain rooms that are never filmed in and a lot of other personal details I don\u2019t talk about, or emotions, or any kind of relationships or family life.\u201d<\/p>\n Bella, whose death inspired 33,000 comments on YouTube. Photograph: Half-Asleep Chris<\/p>\n This is something he learned on the job. A former girlfriend featured in some of his previous videos; when they broke up, Burton felt the need to issue a statement, including details on custody of the cats. \u201cIt creates something awkward,\u201d he says. Viewers \u201cfeel they have the right to know and I guess they do have a right to know because you\u2019ve kind of shared that. But it\u2019s unfair on other people. I\u2019ve chosen to be in the public eye but they haven\u2019t, and I need to protect their privacy.\u201d<\/p>\n Cats don\u2019t care what strangers project on to them, he says, but humans are less immune. \u201cI\u2019m massively against kids being in YouTube videos. I think it\u2019s an exploitative thing by the parents. Christopher Robin grew up to really hate his dad. He resented that he\u2019d sold out his childhood.\u201d<\/p>\n Half-Asleep Chris, Henry and a plaque to Bella. Photograph: Sarah Lee\/The Guardian<\/p>\n It\u2019s time to leave. Burton ushers us out, past an Aardman-themed bathroom and giant 3D printed Lego bricks. What\u2019s next? After the Rainforest Cafe, there are plans for a train around the garden that will navigate a greenhouse, mushroom tunnel, giant sandcastles and jets of coloured water.<\/p>\n And then? \u201cA claw-machine litter tray,\u201d he grins. \u201cI think these inventions are often best when they\u2019re a little impractical.\u201d The carpet-fitters may need to plan a return visit.<\/p>\n The Unordinary Book of Ideas by Half-Asleep Chris is published by Dorling Kindersley Ltd<\/a> (\u00a324.99). To support the Guardian buy a copy at guardianbookshop.com<\/a>. Delivery charges may apply.<\/p>\n