Since the advent of touch-screen technology, there is no denying that most of us are fairly inseparable from our smart phones. Indeed, if I ever forget to take my phone out with me, I feel more than a little anxious. This is despite me spending more than half my life confidently leaving home without a ‘device’ at hand.
What if I need to access my diary or send a message? What if I need a map (I am notoriously always lost)? What if I am stuck in a queue and need something to read/scroll/entertain me in those agonizing empty minutes? What if I actually need to use my phone as a phone… and call someone? It can seem incredulous to contemplate life without that compact support system we carry around.
Does this mean my phone is an invaluable asset or is has it become an undeniable hindrance?
Is my life better because of my phone, or has it actually suffered?
Certainly, our need to constantly check in with our phones suggests that, as much as they add value to our lives, they also take life away.
When I was a teenager in the 1980s, we had a family phone fixed to the kitchen wall. I used to have to stretch the phone cord to the max, to get any semblance of privacy as I chatted to my friends. If one of my other family members got there first, I had to wait in line for my turn to check in with the world beyond home. This means I was often left feeling time pressured in my haste to organize social plans or left out altogether. Still, at that time, rather than believing I was a slave to antiquated options for communication, I believed a ‘land line’ to be a necessary modern invention I couldn’t live without.
I remember my mother telling me that in her adolescence she had to send hand-written postcards to organize social catchups. She would invite a friend to catch up, many days in advance. She would then wait for a postcard in reply. If the reply was affirmative, she would head to the arranged location, at the arranged time, in hope that her friend would do the same. Phones were not an option for most people in the early 1950s.
Of course, technological advances encompass far more than the development of our phones. In the evenings of my own 1980s adolescence, my family and I negotiated our evening TV viewing together. We often struggled to reach a decision from the three channels on offer and I would leave my parents to their favoured shows, preferring to listen to music on my own. Several years later, when I entered my twenties, 24-hour TV was launched. As is the way with change, many adults considered this change to be pointless and doomed to fail… ‘who would want to watch TV after midnight?’ It turned out that quite a few of us did...
In my earlier childhood I remember a friend of my fathers, an academic physicist, balking at my shiny new calculator. He wasted no time in suggesting that I needed to learn to use a slide rule (which I still do not understand) before resorting to technology to solve my math problems. In complete contrast, during the 1990s, when I started studying for my PhD, I quickly learned to rely on my ‘high tech’ desk top computer. I remember marveling at its capacity to run statistical analyses on large data sets, sometimes in mere minutes. Academics who had come before me, including my supervisors, had often been limited in their research due to the limits of large-scale data analyses at that time. Now-a-days in 2025, I have a laptop that can easily do what my large desk top computer used to, and far more. Moreover, I can now order most academic papers and articles I want to read, online. I no longer have to go to the physical library and fill out a form to order a copy of a desired paper from another physical place. Research and research analyses have become more accessible, more efficient and more comprehensive with every passing year. Technological advancement can be a great thing.
Time passes, life changes. We are all ahead of the generation before us, and the generation before us are always suspicious of our new technological ways.
I often wonder how far back in time we need to head to be truly in a ‘better world’? Would we all be better off in the 1990s, prior to smart phones. Or do we need to head back to the 1980s and limited TV to truly thrive? Or possibly the 1950s and postcard led catchups? Or do we need to head all the way to pre-1880 life, and the invention of the light bulb, a definite contributor to poor sleep?
When is the past a healthier past?
It seems the answer may depend on our age…and our own experience of youth.
I can’t help but wonder if in reality, a better world will only be found in the future, rather than any step back in time. A future that is more technologically advanced than 2025, but also more technologically savvy. In this, the problem we have with technology content and use, is arguably more about the problem we have keeping up with technology, and the challenge of change.
When I chat to teachers about technology use and overuse in young people, they invariably show concern about the dangers of social media use, and too much time online. They talk about students wired on Monday mornings, after a weekend of 24/7 gaming, or consumed by FOMO after too much time spent looking at other people’s posts.
Moreover, there are many adults concerned at the lack of time young people now spend in nature and interacting in an offline world in general. As a child in the 1970s I spent three or four hours a day outside. Most primary aged children in 2025, in the developed world, spend less than 20 minutes. Yet, we are hard wired to connect with nature. Nature is an ideal context to learn about ourselves, each other and the world at large.
Overall, adult concerns about technology overuse have led to most Australian schools banning phones during the school day. Certainly, it appears that using a phone is not always a good use of a young person’s time. But, in apparent contrast to bans on phones, schools have embraced an extensive use of technology in classroom life. Indeed, most adolescents in the developed world, spend four to six hours a day on a laptop at school, and another hour or two doing homework on a laptop out of school hours. Indeed, it seems that the biggest problem with technology overuse is not due to Instagram scrolling and Netflix. Rather, it is in the misdirection of teaching and learning online.
Perhaps phone use was not such a big issue after all?
Moreover, when it comes to younger children, still generally under the control of their parents, it is the adults who are in control of technology use, not the children in their care. In this, just as with previous generations, the problems and pitfalls of technology arise from having adults who are not tech savvy, in charge of technology use.
It is particularly concerning for me to see young children, some still in prams, glued to iPad and phone screens when there is a whole world of wonder to be discovered. When I was a primary school aged child, I would watch Saturday morning TV with my brothers before my mother unceremoniously sent us outside ‘to play’. If she had not shown us the door, we would have stayed glued to the screen, even with limited viewing options. Yet, once stuck outside, after a few initial complaints, we found things to do to engage us for the whole of the day. Once again, the issues of technology were evident, as they have been in every generation. As with every generation, these issues were not about technology advancements per se, but about adults’ struggle to embrace and understand them, and use them wisely.
So, what does an understanding of technology through history mean for the current debate about social media use, excessive gaming and non-stop TV?
When is too much, too much? And if the answer is now, then how far back in history should we rewind in search of a better life balance?
Perhaps the answers lie in a better understanding of what an ideal childhood and adolescence is?
If we could better understand what we wanted for young people, and indeed what they needed to grow up well, we could better embrace the best of every technological advancement while also addressing every technological challenge. In this, self-determination theory (SDT) is immensely helpful. Professors Richard Ryan and Edward Deci’s highly robust theory of autonomous motivation, self-determination and wellbeing, has clearly identified three key needs we all have, if we are to live well. These three needs are autonomy, relatedness (belonging) and competency. Life is good when we experience ownership over our choices, and visibility as a unique individual. When we experience authentic connections as a social being. And when we experience a sense of progress as a valued member of our communities.
Young children’s core needs are so centered in their immediate world, with their immediate loved ones, they are rarely met online. Young children need to develop their personal and social competency and capacity in an offline world, deepening their all-important relationships. In contrast, by the time adolescence arrives, technology can play a positive role in supporting a young person’s needs for autonomy, relatedness and competency outside of the immediate family.
Yet, as with all things that are wellbeing related, one action rarely fits all. Rather than ask is this too much technology for this adolescent? Or even, is this the right technology, maybe we need to ask, how well is this adolescent using technology? And are this adolescent’s needs being met in a safe, genuine and supportive way? For example, a sociable adolescent may experience genuine relatedness when catching up with school friends on Instagram; whereas a troubled adolescent may experience FOMO and may well be more vulnerable to unsafe or unhealthy online advances. In this, the same technology can lead to very different outcomes.
Alternatively, a dyslexic teenager may experience increased competency when using a computer to write their report whereas, a sensitive teenager might struggle to complete their math homework without a pen and paper. Similarly, technology can support agency in many ways (it certainly is a life saver for me to have a phone with a map), but it can also diminish it with increasingly narrow content.
Generations vary, communities vary, and individuals vary. Context is always key.
When I was about fourteen my father took me to see the movie ‘Jaws’. I was too scared to get into the bath for a week having watched most of the Stephen Spielberg classic with one eye shut, and plenty of screams. All three of my own daughters watched Jaws before they were fourteen, and all found it laugh aloud funny due to the ‘obviously unreal shark’ and ‘unbelievable effects’. The way we interpret online material, and indeed all manner of experiences, is partly age dependent but also very much dependent on where we are in history.
It is not helpful for me to consider my own responses as a true guide of my daughters’ reactions to online shows, movies or other content. All three of my daughters are far more aware of the distinction between reality and fantasy, and far more media savvy than me. Similarly, I am very aware that the most likely victim of a financial online scam is someone far older than me. Despite my mother being very competent on her phone and iPad, she sometimes struggles to distinguish between a ‘scam call’ and a real one. The safety, perception and impact of technology is dependent on far more than the technology per se.
In summary, it makes little sense to long for ‘times past’, and a reversal of technological advancement. This talks to a longing to return to the familiarity of our own youth. Every generation has longed for the familiar feel of history, and a ‘simpler life’.
Rather, let us embrace all the amazing and positive advancements of 2025 and the future, but let us do this with caution, care and control. At its best technology has helped the world become more equitable, healthier and better educated. It has also contributed to us being more distracted, dissatisfied and polarized in our views.
I suggest that when considering the use of any technological advancement by young people, be it the advent of the newest iPhone, or the wonders of AI, we need to consider the user first and foremost, along with the user’s context.
In so doing, we may wish to ask:
1. Is this person able to navigate this technology with appropriate maturity?
2. Are this person’s needs for autonomy, relatedness and/or competency helped or hindered with this particular aspect of technology use, in this particular context?
3. Is this person’s current use of technology happening with an acceptable level of risk? Is this young person as safe and savvy as I need them to be?
And finally,
4. Is this a good use of this young person’s time, at this time?
Who knows what continued technological advancements and the rise of AI will bring – and who knows if our children will embrace or reject an AI driven future? They, like their parents, will probably reference their ‘healthier, simpler’ pre-AI childhoods. Their children will probably laugh at their inability to navigate another ‘brave new world’.
@positiveschools
