With red cheeks and big smiles, they tumbled out of the bus and into the arms of waiting parents on the wall. There was laughter and tears and sacks and hugs in wonderful chaos, and we had to go home and inside the door before we got the full story of how the week had been. A bit into the story about glacier hiking, abseiling, splicing of quasi-breaks and new friendships, I asked how it had gone without a mobile phone for a week. “It went great,” he replied. “I wish mobile phones didn’t exist”. Read the last one again. When children ask for change “It was so much fun,” he continued. “We did so much together and everyone was involved, we ran around, played cards, played football, just hung out. It was different, but good. I wish smartphones didn’t exist, we could have had old-fashioned Nokia phones, that would have done”. I sat thoughtfully. Not because it surprised me that they had been fine without a mobile phone, but because he saw it so clearly himself. When I tentatively floated the idea of an 18-year-old limit on smartphones, he agreed without hesitation. Even with the knowledge that it would spell the end for TikTok and Snapchat, he was confident. “If everyone feels the same way, text messages will do.” Over the weekend I spoke to his friends, and several shared the same experience: “It was so nice without phones,” said one of them, “everyone was kind of happier.” Ouch. Can it be said more clearly? What are the children losing? The experience my son joyfully described was my own childhood. Our childhood, those of us who grew up before the mobile phone took over. Remember all the crazy things we came up with because we were bored? Do you remember all the hours outside where we just hung out, rode bikes, played and made trouble? What we gave each other back then were three things that are in short supply today: attention, presence and time. Let’s take a closer look at time. In Maja Lunde’s new book “Screen the children”, she devotes many pages to precisely everything children lose, and time is one of them. 14 years to be more exact. With an average life expectancy of 82 years and four hours on the mobile phone daily, 14 years of life will be spent on the mobile phone. Years that could have been filled with important play, relationship building, movement, sleep and daydreams. I think this is what my son felt so clearly when the screen was removed. He got something valuable instead, something he didn’t realize he was missing. And what about the comment that “everyone was happier”? Well, there is eventually a lot of research that points to a clear correlation between the strong increase in mental illness in children and young people, and the rapid spread of smartphones and social media. How many more investigations should we wait for before we act? Must be solved at a societal level So buy him a dumb phone or be stricter on screen time, many will object. But this experience was not about the mobile phone rules in our family, this was about no one disappearing into a mobile phone for five whole days. Many had time, many contributed with creative suggestions and most were open to playing along. This is something children growing up today rarely or never have experienced. I’ve seen hints of that before too. During holidays, we have experimented with putting screens away for periods. When everyone puts them away completely (out of sight), the children become more playful and creative. I have also spoken to 16-year-olds who told me that they had deleted TikTok because they felt eaten up by the empty scrolling, but that they had to crawl to the cross and re-install after a week, because they missed information from friends. When asked if they wished TikTok didn’t exist, the answer was a unanimous YES. In other words, these are not choices that the children or the family can make on their own. The effect only comes when it becomes collective. It is a paradox that I am writing this anonymously. When my son read the text, he thought it was very nice, but was afraid of reactions from children who have not experienced what five days without a mobile can be like. It became too scary to be twelve years old and the standard-bearer for a mobile-free childhood. Nor should he need to. It’s us adults who have to be adults. And we must introduce rules that are strong enough. What are we waiting for? Education Minister Kari Nessa Nordtun has done a lot to promote mobile-free schools, and this week it became known that the government is proposing to introduce a 15-year age limit for social media. This is good news and steps in the right direction, but there is still a long way to go. If we are to really protect the children, we should at least raise the age limits on social media, perhaps even higher than 15 years. But most preferably: Prohibit the use of smartphones below a certain age. You have to be 18 before you can drive a car, but it is at least as demanding (cognitively and emotionally) to maneuver safely with a smartphone in the jungle of apps and social media. And when the children themselves ask for stricter rules, it’s time we take this seriously. The comments of my son and his friends made me wonder if we are using data from such “natural experiments without screens”, like camp schools, good enough? And how is the debate and politics affected if it turns out that many of the children say that a dumb phone is sufficient? After my son had finished talking, he ran up to the room and got his mobile phone. The next moment, he was absorbed in updates and streaks on Snapchat. The magic was broken and the memories of camp school will eventually fade. But his clarity had stuck with me, so I end with an appeal to the politicians: We are on the right track, but we must do more. The big tech giants have nothing to do with our children’s brains. What are we waiting for? The chronicler writes anonymously for the sake of his son. news knows her identity. Send us your opinion Want to write? Feel free to contact us at news Ytring with your post. The guidelines can be found here. Published 26.10.2024, at 07.53
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