Last month, Anthony Kinnett argued for National Review that “the implementation of technology in schools” has fallen far short of “what was promised by the education-technology salesmen of the early 2010s.” Instead of greater technological skills accompanying improved learning,
Screen addiction, blue-light exhaustion, and other medical issues accompanying near-round-the-clock screen use have only increased during this age of the computer replacing the teacher in the classroom. ADHD, dyslexia, and other learning disabilities’ coping mechanisms, often achieved through handwriting and screen restraint, are becoming less common as physical media takes a back seat to the convenience and entertainment of classroom computer use.
Short-term and long-term memory development has also taken a massive hit in the education space. The ability to search most answers with a few key presses has discouraged developing minds to retain information that doesn’t facilitate dopamine.
While Kinnett said he “can’t fully endorse or decry screen use in any classroom,” his basic thesis was that the benefits of incorporating screen technology in the classroom have been oversold, and that we should “invest accordingly.” As someone who went to school just before tech really exploded (no laptops, no tablets; one old-fashioned history teacher I had even took joy in bringing out a vintage slide projector), I couldn’t agree more.
Some schools are willing to take Kinnett’s argument further than he himself did. A recent Wall Street Journal report focused on Buxton School, a small boarding school in Massachusetts, that banned smartphones, after realizing they had exacerbated drama at the school. Though there were some initial hiccups, for students — “Everyone was crying. Kids were yelling at us,” [associate head of school John Kalapos] recalls. “Parent feedback was really mixed” — and even for teachers. But two months in, things are going much better. Students and teachers alike report being more engaged in the classroom, more relaxed outside of it, and some even found their old smartphones disgustingly overwhelming when they returned to them during breaks, opting for fewer apps and less phone use generally.
To be sure, Braxton is not a totally tech-free environment. Laptops are still allowed, and students have Light Phones with only text and call functioning. Reading that texting on such phones “is designed to be clunky, and many students say it’s so slow that they don’t bother texting more than a few words at a time,” amused me greatly, as “back in my day” (am I really old enough to start saying this?), this was all we had. (And phone use was banned during school hours besides.) It may seem like baby steps to return today’s kids to what life was like when I was in high school, but even that would be an improvement.
Eventually, though, it would be ideal if we could start stigmatizing smartphones altogether. That was Elayne Allen’s argument last month in the Public Discourse. Making a striking (if imperfect) analogy between cigarette smoking and smartphone use, she argued that
we must begin by deciding appropriate and inappropriate uses of them. Just as we have created designated smoking areas, we can create designated “areas” for smartphone use (though probably without the precise physical boundaries). During meals, for example, smartphones should be put away. It should be seen as déclassé to scroll while eating out and during social functions. And more urgently, just as with smoking, schools should be no place for smartphone use. Education is too important an endeavor for students’ minds to be divided between coursework and Instagram.
We’re a long way from this. But for now, it seems eminently worthwhile to take baby steps to get there.