Why I’m pressing my son to spend more time on his ipad
What should you do if your children are glued to a screen all day? Simple, say sociologists. Let them carry on. A new study concludes that children should have unrestricted access to tablets and other devices. “By removing screens,” says one of the study’s authors, “you are depriving young people of a vital source of communication and potentially exposing them to a form of bullying and ridicule from other young people – reducing their self-esteem.” In fact, he says, somewhat startlingly, it’s “tantamount to child abuse”.
Wow. So all those hours of screen time are actually good for them. In fact, more than good: they’re essential.
Well, I wouldn’t want to be a bad parent. I’ll make sure my son gets the message, loud and clear.
“So there you are! Home at last! And where exactly have you been, young man?”
“I’ve just been playing in the garden, Dad.”
“Playing? Outdoors? On a sunny day like this? When you could be inside, fiddling with your phone all afternoon? What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. I just like playing outdoors, that’s all.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake. Switch that ipad on and play indoors for a change. It’ll do you good.”
“But I don’t want to play on my ipad. It’s boring.”
“Boring? How can you be bored, gazing motionless at a flickering screen for eight hours at a time?”
“I don’t know. I just can’t be bothered.”
“Can’t be bothered, indeed. That’s exactly your trouble, young man: no self-discipline. Go to your room and don’t come down until you’ve watched 19 consecutive episodes of Doctor Who.”
“Dad! That’s not fair!”
“Oh, stop moaning. Honestly. Why can’t you be like the other boys? I don’t see them frittering their lives away on all this ‘going outside’ and ‘exercising’ and ‘getting some fresh air’. You’re missing out on a lot of screen time. You’re only young once, you know.”
Sociologists should be pleased with me, at any rate. I’m quite happy staring at a screen for hours on end. And thanks to Netflix, I can watch a whole TV series in one sitting, all the way through.
The trouble is, it’s completely ruined terrestrial TV for me. These days, if I like a series, I can’t cope with only being allowed to watch one episode a week, at whatever hour the schedulers decree. I’m no longer capable of deferred gratification. I have to have what I want right now, like a screaming toddler.
Which is why I can’t bear it that the new series of The Bridge, the brilliant Scandinavian thriller, is on the BBC. The previous three series of it were on the BBC, too, but I didn’t have Netflix then, so it was fine. In those days I still knew how to be patient. But not any more. The suspense is driving me loopy.
I can no more wait a week between episodes than I could wait a week between meals.
Theresa May’s refusal to give a straight answer to absolutely any question at all is almost heroic. Last year, a newspaper asked her a series of light-hearted quick-fire questions. Her answers were remarkable. Sherlock or Midsomer Murders? “I’ve watched both.” Broadchurch or Line of Duty? “I haven’t watched either.” Whisky or wine? “Depends on the circumstances.” Merkel or Macron? “I’m going to work with both of them.”
Looking back, perhaps it isn’t surprising that a person who can’t even make a decision about primetime detective dramas should struggle to make a decision about customs policy.
You can guess what would happen if a journalist brought up that audio clip everyone’s arguing about, and asked whether she hears “yanny” or “laurel”.
“I’m very clear. The people of this country have played the audio clip, and I’ve listened. And I’m very clear that what I heard was a word. I heard it very clearly. And I’ve been absolutely clear about that.”
Think politics is in a mess? Believe it or not, it could be worse. Far worse. A group of Remainers are demanding what they call a “people’s vote” on the final Brexit deal. Imagine, for the sake of argument, that the Prime Minister consented. What would the ballot paper say?
Perhaps it would give us only two options: either “Endorse the Government’s deal”, or “Leave without a deal”. Well, that wouldn’t be much good. The Government’s deal could be a total dud. That doesn’t automatically mean that “no deal” would be popular, though. Many voters – including plenty who voted Leave in 2016 – wouldn’t fancy either option.
In which case, the ballot paper could offer a third option: “Send the Government back to renegotiate”. Well, that wouldn’t be any good either. There wouldn’t be enough time. The Article 50 period runs out next March. We’d have to beg the EU for an extension. If they said no, we’d be humiliated. And if they said yes, they’d have us over a barrel, because the British public would already have ruled out the threat of “no deal”, and the Government would be getting desperate.
The ballot paper could, therefore, offer yet another option: “Cancel Brexit”. It wouldn’t, obviously, because Brexiteers in Parliament would never allow it. But say they did. That would give voters a choice of four options – and it’s extremely unlikely that any one of the four would win a majority of votes. In fact, it would be possible for “Cancel Brexit” to win with as little as 26 per cent. Cue national meltdown. Almost three quarters of people would have voted for Brexit – but because they were split between three incompatible approaches to it, we’d have to stay in the EU.
Holding any kind of “people’s vote”, therefore, would be completely mad. Which means, I suppose, that it’s bound to happen.