I was the kid without a smartphone … until I wasn’t.
When I graduated 5th grade in June 2021, at 11 years old, I got my first smart device: an Apple Watch. My parents would have preferred my twin brother and me to be phone-free kids, but they also wanted a way for us to communicate with family and friends as we entered middle school. At the time, the Apple Watch seemed to be the only smartphone alternative for kids.
I felt cool being part of the club that could text and access apps (even if they were really tiny).
But all too soon, the Apple Watch didn’t feel cool anymore. As 6th graders, my twin and I were two of the only kids in the grade not to have an iphone.
We begged our parents for one. My parents held out for a while, but I think even they started to feel the pressure to have their kids fit in.
I got a smartphone halfway through 7th grade.
Yes, my parents MacGyvered it with all sorts of Screen Time restrictions to ensure I wasn’t going to spend too much time on any one app. But after a month or two, my twin and I could easily get around those. (Not that we tried all the time.)
One might think that a kid would become "addicted" to their new smartphone immediately. It wasn't like that for me, and I don't think it's like that for many kids. I think it's more of a slow burn. First, a few YouTube shorts before bed—harmless enough, just adding a little dust to the book already gathering it on my nightstand. Then it was a quick game of Roblox after some math problems, fracturing my focus and certainly not helping my algebra retention. By the time it had really taken hold, I wasn't waiting for a lull to reach for it—the phone came out between classes, before I'd even thought to look up and find a friend for a hallway high five.
It’s a slippery slope, especially for a kid ….
Enter The Anxious Generation.
Jonathan Haidt’s The Anxious Generation came out the month before my 14th birthday, towards the end of my 8th grade year. I found a copy of it on my desk in summer 2024, several colored post-it flags adhered to pages that my mom clearly wanted me to read.
A couple things really resonated with my 14-year-old self. The first was “the opportunity cost” of smartphone-based childhoods. An opportunity cost is the loss of other potential gains when one alternative is chosen. Haidt discussed numerous examples, such as video games where adolescent boys were missing out on sleep, exercise, and in-person social interaction with friends. Sounded a little familiar.
The second was Haidt’s explanation of the “why” behind kids’ habit-forming smartphone use.
Haidt explains that children and teenagers do not have a fully mature prefrontal cortex—essentially a “brake system” that controls executive functions like impulse inhibition—until their mid-20s.
That’s a big deal. And it explained why I was having a difficult time not putting away my smartphone. The Anxious Generation helped me understand the “why” behind kids’ impulsive smartphone use and got me thinking about what potential gains I was missing as a screenager. I considered …
What was I really missing before I got a smartphone?
The reason I wanted a smartphone in the first place was to not feel left out. But when I thought back to my life before a smartphone, I realized that I was included in beach plans, part of the escape-room team, and a regular at movie nights and sleepovers. There were certainly group calls and video games I couldn’t join, and Instagram posts and YouTube shorts that I was oblivious to. But that was really it. I still had my friends.
And …
I had a lot more time. A lot more time to make meaningful progress in my life.