I had a phone for far too long without knowing about the time-limit function. The phone was either on or off, and both came with downsides: “on” brought interruptions and temptations, “off” brought the particularly irritating distraction that comes with being convinced that you are missing something. It is ironic that by making our phone inaccessible to others, we delegate the responsibility for being contactable to ourselves alone. At least when it’s on we know that the phone will do its job and notify us. For whatever reason, turning it off completely was not for me – perhaps I did not see the point in having one just to shut it off entirely. In any case, like many other people I find the fact that there are in-between options such as limiting time on specific apps or limiting total screen time works better than a complete shutdown. It is for similarly complex reasons that an all-out blanket ban on phones in schools makes less sense the more closely we examine it.
The issue of mobile phones at school has been an education news story of 2023. Lots of positive media focus has been on primary schools and on commendable efforts to keep smartphones away from young people until they start secondary school. The Minister for Education expressed interest in this approach and a desire to see if it could be replicated in schools and classrooms around the country. And this, of course, is entirely positive: there is no need for such young children to have access to these devices, and most definitely not at school, where there are reasonable grounds for rules and regulations to prevent them from having one.
Without holding honest discussions I would never have learned about why the phone is so important. It is valued for its reliability and predictability. It is always available when needed in a way that many humans are not
There is a “but”, however, and it is a huge one. We either have not noticed it or are unwilling to discuss it. When a volcano has already erupted and the hot lava is flowing, damage is already under way. If we are to truly see all the complexities of approaching the issue of excessive phone use, we must be prepared to acknowledge that this particular volcano erupted some time ago and we are going to have to navigate hot lava in the process. There are many layers to this work.
It starts with recognising that policies don’t mean anything to young people. Yes, of course we must have them, and they must mean something in terms of implementation and application in the real-world setting, but the policy being written and ratified is the easy part. It has been a very long time since young people en masse did something simply because adults asked them to. Accepting this will enhance how we bring the policy to life, as it follows that we must instil a sense of understanding in young people around why it is necessary. Time is the greatest barrier here – isn’t it always in schools? And yet it is the messy part of the work that we cannot possibly skip over if we are to succeed. The wonderful thing is how open our students are to this kind of conversation. Phone use has immediate relevance for them, and that helps to generate effortless engagement on their part. They will come on board; we just need to help them by creating the space for them to do it.
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I create this space by talking to my classes about phones regularly; I see it as part of classroom wellbeing. I accept that many of those I teach are addicts, and rationalising with addicts about what they are addicted to is pointless. The work therefore involves creating well-paced reflection opportunities that invite student contributions to inform our work. Unless we are meeting our students where they are when it comes to phone use, our efforts will be futile. How I am doing it may seem informal, even casual, but it works because it is not about lecturing or telling off. To those who insist on believing that developing and adopting a policy will work as a stand-alone measure, I salute you in your efforts and wish you well as you set off on your uphill battle into the hot lava.
Young eyes have always placed greater store on what they see us doing than on what they hear us saying
Without holding honest discussions I would never have learned about why the phone is so important. It is valued for its reliability and predictability. It is always available when needed in a way that many humans are not. It has a calming effect, which school, family and friends do not always have. Although these statements may be hard to hear, if they are the realities young people are experiencing we need to be alert to the harm we potentially cause by depriving them of phone time. This doesn’t mean that we do not deprive them – it simply means we offer support while doing so. This work also raises the question of what our own phone use will look like as we implement any policy – will we continue taking the rolls on our phone, for example? This is now common practice in many classrooms, and so we use phones for other purposes too. If we are not modelling what we are teaching, then we are (albeit inadvertently) teaching something else entirely, and young eyes have always placed greater store on what they see us doing than on what they hear us saying.
Addressing phone use in school communities is big work and many consider it long overdue. But it cannot be approached as something straightforward where our everyday practices adjust overnight in response to a circular or policy. Phone use therefore belongs in the curriculum in the 21st century as much as IT, the internet or (very soon) AI. But we must acknowledge that we are making up for lost time. And that there is a shortage of capable teachers and role models.