I have worked with many parents who felt overwhelmed by their children’s screen use and unsure how to set limits without creating a constant fight.
This is one of the trickiest and most disturbing parts of being a parent now. The parents often spend a lot of time online themselves. Their children look up to them and naturally want to do what they do. Then the consequences of the child’s screen use become obvious enough that a conversation has to happen.
Parents seem to get pushed towards two camps. One is: let them do whatever they want so they do not complain. Give them the tablet, then the phone, and avoid the argument. The other is: this is bad for them, so cut it back. That can lead to endless fights, tantrums and drama.
Neither is an ideal solution, but decisions still have to be made. These are a few experiences from my coaching work and what I would personally recommend, just as I recommend it to my clients.
The day a mother unplugged the router
One of the first parents I coached told me she was spending far too much time online and getting spun out by the news. Her teenage daughter was spending a huge amount of time online too.
After several conversations, I suggested that the mother take a short digital detox. She did not need the internet on all the time, and it clearly was not doing her any good. I told her the simplest version was to physically unplug the router for a short period and put the phone somewhere else. As long as the usual route online remained beside her, she was likely to use it.
She said, “All right. I have been thinking about this long enough. I am just going to do it.”
She walked over to the router and unplugged it. She was about to carry it to the shed when we heard a shriek from upstairs. I was on the phone with her.
“What the fuck are you doing, Mum? How could you? I was talking to somebody. Turn it back on.”
The threats and swearing became worse until my client finally said, “I had better go,” and ended our call.
Obviously, it would have been better to tell her daughter before pulling the plug. Even with warning, I suspect the response would have been difficult. We have become emotionally dependent on the internet for many of our needs. Both of them were using it to regulate themselves and stay connected.
Read the complete scene from Entranced: The Shed →
When a screen becomes emotional regulation
Another parent told me that her four-year-old had become so attached to her phone that taking it back triggered threats, guilt and enormous tantrums. She said he became irritable and unpleasant with everyone when the phone was removed. Whatever label we put on it, the family needed a boundary.
Another client sent his children to a Waldorf school where screens were largely absent. It was going very well. At home, the children watched one carefully selected show each week. The programme became the highlight of the week, and afterwards they immediately wanted more. Eventually the parents stopped the weekly show because the arguments surrounding it were not worth it.
I understand the pull. I was attached to television when I was a child. I could not wait for my Saturday cartoons and the other programmes I loved. Television was a safe space for me. I completely understand why screens become emotionally regulating and why taking them away can be heart-wrenching.
That does not mean every child who loves a screen has an addiction. It means the screen may be doing an emotional job. If we remove it, we need to care about the need underneath as well as the device.
In another scene from Entranced, a long-awaited family visit is overtaken by work calls, phones and a Nintendo Switch. Read Best Friends →
When a parent fears a permanent decision is being made too quickly
Another client came to me deeply disturbed about her eighteen-year-old daughter. The mother said her daughter had begun spending most of the day alone in her room watching large amounts of online content. Her daughter then said that she was a boy, wanted to use a different name and wanted to have her breasts removed. Her mother felt the change had come very suddenly and was terrified that her daughter might make a permanent decision she would later regret.
I asked whether her daughter had talked about wanting to be a boy before this period of isolation and heavy internet use. Her mother said she had not. I suggested interrupting the constant stream of online influence and giving the situation time and space before any permanent decision was made.
The mother later told me that her daughter no longer wanted surgery or to live as a boy, and that she was grateful she had not made a permanent physical change. That is one family’s account. It does not prove that the internet caused her daughter’s feelings, and it does not tell us what is true for every transgender person. It does show why a parent can be genuinely frightened when a young person’s identity changes suddenly alongside isolation and intense online immersion.
A young person’s feelings about gender should not be mocked, dismissed or forced in either direction. They should be taken seriously. Parents also need to be allowed to ask difficult questions about online influence, distress and irreversible surgery without being silenced. The responsible response is time, careful listening and properly qualified assessment that explores the whole person rather than rushing towards a predetermined answer. The Endocrine Society’s clinical guidance likewise says that gender dysphoria and gender incongruence should be assessed by trained mental-health professionals who can consider the person’s understanding, mental health and social circumstances.
What I would do if I were a parent
If I had children, I would personally keep technology extremely limited until they were at least fourteen: no personal smartphone, no social media and no private internet access. If I realistically could, I would not send them to a school where every friendship depended on having all of that. I know that is a strong personal position. It will not fit every family, country or child.
When I was growing up, we played in forests, went into town on our own and found things to do. It was imperfect, but we had a physical childhood. If I were responsible for a child now, I would protect time for play, face-to-face friendship, movement, boredom, reading and ordinary life in the real world.
I would help my children find healthier ways to express and process their feelings instead of leaving a highly persuasive product to do that work. I would also need to face an uncomfortable truth: I could not ask them to live by rules I openly ignored.
Like it or not, you have to model the behaviour you want from your children.
The example has to be visible
One mother I coached set a firmer phone boundary while her son was still young. She told me that his mood and concentration improved. But she also realised that she could not spend the evening looking at her own phone and expect him to accept a different rule.
If a child sees the parent using a phone constantly, the child has an obvious reason to want the same thing. Like it or not, parents model the behaviour they want their children to learn. Otherwise the instruction and the example contradict one another.
At the very least, I would keep personal devices out of bedrooms at night and use them in shared spaces while a child was young. Private, unrestricted access makes it harder for a parent to see whether sleep, school, friendships or safety are being affected.
The practical boundaries I would begin with
- Agree on the change before pulling the plug.Explain what will change, when the boundary begins and when you will review it together.
- Keep phones out of bedrooms overnight.Choose one charging place in a shared room and use an ordinary alarm clock where needed.
- Protect meals and conversations.Adults follow the same rule. A family boundary is easier to defend than a rule aimed only at the child.
- Delay the most absorbing products.A basic phone or watch can provide contact without immediately adding social feeds, games and an unrestricted browser.
- Replace the job the screen was doing.Plan something for connection, comfort, play or decompression instead of leaving an empty space and expecting willpower to fill it.
Jonathan Haidt and The Anxious Generation
Out of the books I have read, I would recommend Jonathan Haidt’s The Anxious Generation to parents who are worried about their children. His central practical proposal is not a hundred tiny restrictions. It is four shared norms that families and schools can adopt together.
The four norms
Delay smartphones until high school. Delay social media until sixteen. Keep schools phone-free from bell to bell. Give children more independence, free play and responsibility in the real world.
There is no painless version
The earlier a family sets its expectations, the less likely it is that removing a device will feel like overturning the whole social order. Starting later can still work, but it will probably require more explanation, more patience and more willingness from the adults to change too.
I am not saying any of this lightly. If I were a parent, I would be freaking out too. I can only imagine how difficult the decision is when your child is the one who feels excluded or furious.
At the end of the day, you are responsible for deciding what works for your family. There is no easy solution. I hope these stories, links and recommendations help you figure out what works best for you.
Love and blessings,
Michael