A few weeks ago, a post popped into my LinkedIn feed feature what's become conventional wisdom: kids shouldn't have smartphones in school. While I like a good ban as much as anyone, I think it's funny that we want to keep phones out of schools, but adults will say that while surreptitiously using our phones during the workday, while driving, and while parenting (if possible). In reply to the LinkedIn post, I suggested we extend the phone ban to such places as work, home, and hand. Worth a chuckle, but I think I meant it. Ever since smart phones appeared, we've been unable to handle them.
In 2008, I thought it was a DC thing. At the start of my first networking breakfast after college, the person who would eventually become my longterm DC boss whipped out two cell phones. He put one on either side of his plate, like amulets, and sporadically would swipe to see his notifications or pick up one of the devices to send a quick email reply. He did this throughout the short meal, without excuse, while either of us were talking. One phone was the official phone, the other was for political stuff, he explained, adding that I'd get used to constantly being on the phone and would realize that emailing during any other activity was just how DC worked. He was partially right. Everyone had two phones and used them constantly; I never got used to it. A few years later, I broke my final straw of his managerial patience when I didn't read a 9pm Sunday evening email asking me to arrive at the office early the next morning.
It wasn't a DC thing nor was it about the newness of smart phones. In 2016, when I briefly worked in Georgia, my boss would pick up his phone to check his Facebook notifications whenever he was bored. He was easily bored. The phone could pop out during a meeting he was running, while delivering my performance review, meeting with clients, or hosting the Christmas party. Everyone in his life fought to be more interesting than his phone. I judged him pretty harshly right up until I realized I did the exact same thing to my kids. It's not a good sign when your kid is able to recognize the back of your phone by its unique scratch.
I'm not getting my kids smart phones any time soon, but when they get them, I'll focus their attention on how to not allow these devices to ruin their lives. The potential ruination is why bans are so interesting to us: we are the people who voted for prohibition in the 1920s. We're also the people who kept on drinking the whole time. While outright bans appear to be useful, it turns out they are both impractical (see the Macleans piece below) and counter-productive (see the WSJ piece below). You don't have to be Cal Newport to realize that in order to focus on something or to calm down, you need to leave your phone behind. Leaving your phone behind for a walk, charging it outside of your bedroom at night, removing unused apps, etc. are all decent tactics. These practices teach us to use the smart phone well—and be on it it less.
I'll leave off with this, from Epictetus:
When you have adopted the simple life, do not pride yourself upon it, and if you are a water-drinker do not say on every occasion, 'I am a water-drinker.'
Reading
Stop Panicking Over Teens and Social Media
Modern life is digital. Adults need to help young people navigate the costs and benefits, not launch bans and hope for the best.
Schools vs. Screens
This fall, provinces from coast to coast confidently announced that they were banning phones in the classroom. It’s not going well.