Can I get my teen to switch off for six weeks?
After her 13-year-old notched up a 12-hour stint, Anna Maxted knew something had to change. She sets out their holiday challenge
In the heat of every digitally induced drama, I roar at my children, “I’ve had it with you and screens!” And then I do nothing. My 13-year-old – a fine cricketer, diligent student, witty, creative – racked up 12 hours of screen time last Sunday. I felt ashamed, angry, frustrated. Something needs to change – and now, perhaps, it will.
The Daily Telegraph has thrown down the gauntlet and asked Conrad to try a “screen-free summer”. Six weeks bereft of his smartphone and PS4. No siting on Instagram, posting updates on his “story”, or wasting Grandma’s £10 on V-bucks to buy a “skin” for digital-world avatars.
I passed on this outlandish suggestion to my son, expecting a flat “no”. But Conrad said: “I’ll do it – I just won’t like it!” And if your first thought is “she must be bribing him” – of course I am. He plans to spend my incentive on a video game.
But is it possible? A compulsion, by definition, is extraordinarily difficult to stop. Is total abstention the best option? Or is limited access wiser? I ask, because my goal is for Conrad to develop healthier screen habits.
In his co-authored book, The Distracted Mind: Ancient Brains in a High-tech World, Dr Larry Rosen, professor emeritus of the psychology department at California State University, notes “there is no evidence that extended tech detoxes actually work”. Once the break is over, he says, we return to our“information foraging behaviour ”, frantic to catch up.
This gives me pause. I don’t want Conrad to be isolated, so perhaps I should buy him a brick phone (with no internet access) that friends can call? I’ll also allow TV, I decide – I’m not trying to recreate the Twenties. I’ll take custody of his iphone, though, and as for the PS4, I’d be delighted to rip it from the wall.
None of this would be necessary, if my son could moderate his use voluntarily. It’s the domination of tech to the exclusion of all else that I abhor: watching children abandon books, dressing while gazing at a phone; the erosion of their mental health. My son hasn’t been bullied online, but gaming – its brutal lows, its alluring highs – takes a disturbing emotional toll.
Dr Rosen states that, like a crash diet, unplugging won’t be effective “unless you work to change your environment”. One feature that will need adjusting is Conrad’s brother. Caspar, 11, is looking forward to rubbing his own online status in Conrad’s face: this signals disaster, if not a hospital visit. I’ll need to curtail Caspar’s usage, too.
Meanwhile, Conrad’s routines must change. Every morning he trots downstairs, picks up his phone, and is lost to us until school. Now, he must decide on an alternative. I recall advice on quitting any addiction: this can’t feel like a punishment. What rewarding activity can he replace it with?
“Nothing,” Conrad says when I put this to him. Yet, today he trotted into the garden to practise skateboarding without prompting. But this is unlikely to happen every day for six weeks.
I can’t devote my existence to policing him – nor should I. But, presently, it seems that keeping Conrad offline will be a full-time job. He’ll play cricket, we’ll go out, but it’s the spare time that concerns me. On reflection, the “screen-free” plan feels doomed.
So I consult Belinda Parmar, who runs tech addiction workshops in schools, who believes that “one of the biggest issues is double standards” – why should Conrad alone curb his tech use? She suggests we both download the free Moment app to track our daily iphone usage and build self-awareness. “This isn’t anti-technology,” Belinda explains; it’s about education, and prompting reflection.
Her workshops pose questions such as: “Did Steve Jobs, founder of Apple, allow his kids to use ipads?” Spoiler: no. “Why? Maybe he knew they were addictive.”
She also suggests writing to Conrad “about the impact of his relationship with tech” and that he write to me about why he loves it, to foster understanding. But she thinks a total screen ban is unwise.
“This isn’t about taking technology away from our children,” she says. “It’s about managing it in a way that enhances their lives, and our relationship with them.”
‘If you take the phone away, he’ll get anxious and angry’
Seeking further guidance, I call Dr Rosen in LA. He’s also author of idisorder: Understanding Our Obsession with Technology and Overcoming its Hold on Us. When I say I’m considering a six-week screen ban for my teenager, he’s politely aghast. “Unworkable,” he says. “Totally unworkable. Thirteenyear-old tantrums are not fun, and part of the problem is you’re also making him miss out on his social world.
“By doing a detox, you’re cutting out one of the most important parts of teenage life, which is socialisation. You don’t get to socialise unless you go out and talk to someone face to face. That’s fine, but it’s not how their social world is now.” Instead, Dr Rosen suggests a structured plan, to be negotiated with Conrad, that involves rationing daily usage. The decrease must happen incrementally, he says: I should allow him to briefly check his phone every 15 or 30 minutes. Gradually, the time between check-ins increases.
He says: “We’re trying to calm the
biochemistry of his brain. If you just take the phone away and he doesn’t know when he’s getting it back, he’ll start producing all those chemicals that make him anxious or angry.”
The PS4 is also rationed, but Conrad must have some control, for example he earns extra console time if he sticks to our plan. “There have to be boundaries and rules, but there has to be a way for him to get more. Otherwise it’s just punishment – and punishment doesn’t work without reinforcement.”
Dr Rosen suggests moving the console out of sight until required. Conrad must also write a list of enjoyable offline activities to pin on the fridge for instant referral.
Dr Rosen adds that parents should “model good behaviour”. But now I feel better informed, and equipped to take it on. I’ll be detailing the advice of experts and more, and reporting on Conrad’s progress weekly. So here’s to a sunny, screen-lite summer – I hope.