For years, the battles started whenever it was time to study, eat, or simply talk. The phones had to go away, and the negotiations would begin, the kind that could test a seasoned mediator. “Let me just...” “Hang on a sec.” “I am in the middle of something.” “Everyone is waiting for me to reply.” Or the dreaded “Whaaaat!?!?”

Eventually, the phone would go face down, and the sulking would start. Eyes rolled. Answers shrank to single words or grumpy grunts. A chair scraped, a door closed a little harder than necessary, and the mood of the whole house soured. For a while, I put it down to the teenage years. I no longer think that was the whole story.

In one large international survey of 15-year-olds, almost half said they felt nervous or anxious when their phone was not near them. I recognise that anxiety. For years, it had a seat at our table.

“Everyone Has One”

Every parent knows the phrase. Our first battle was over whether a child should have a phone at all, and at what age. We expected to control how and when they would use it, and limit its effects. It is a humbling moment in parenting when you realise the world’s influence on your children might be bigger than your own.

The second battle began as soon as we gave them phones. Which model, and which features and apps? The hand-me-down with the cracked screen became an embarrassment. Then there was the group chat, where plans were made, jokes shared, and children sometimes excluded. Saying no felt less like parenting and more like exiling your child.

Research suggests that these pressures have consequences. In a University of Pennsylvania experiment, students who limited social media to about 30 minutes daily reported significantly less loneliness and depression after three weeks. Almost half of American teenagers say social media makes them feel worse about their bodies. Children measure their real lives against other people’s edited ones.

In my experience, the less time my children spent online, the nicer they became. They were more engaged, talked, and laughed more, and filled their time with creative pursuits, play, and sport.

Here, But Not Here

The moment of clarity came during a family holiday in the bush. We had travelled for hours to reach one of our favourite places, and there we were, every one of us, me included, looking down at our phones. We were together in a beautiful place, each having a private experience through the portal in our hands. Technology was making us strangers to one another.

I must acknowledge my part in this. South African internet users spend about nine-and-a-half hours online daily, according to global digital reports. Parents answer emails at the table, scroll during school plays, and half-listen to stories about the day.

Researchers call this “technoference”. A study in Child Development found an association between mothers’ phone interruptions and behavioural problems in their young children, although the relationship could run both ways. Children copy what we do, and I could hardly ask mine to put down their phones while holding my own.

What It Does to Them

Research has confirmed much of what we experienced. The Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development’s 2022 Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) survey found that almost two in three students were distracted by devices in at least some maths lessons. Those distracted by classmates’ devices scored 15 points lower. A Berlin study linked heavier phone use, particularly social media and gaming, to a greater preference for immediate rewards over delayed ones. Yet real-life achievements, from education to relationships and savings, require patience.

Gaming raises further questions. Stanford researchers found that people given taller virtual avatars negotiated more aggressively, even afterwards in face-to-face interactions. A review covering more than 80 000 people found that media glorifying risk increased willingness to take risks in real life, with games showing stronger effects than films.

Then there are the predators. America’s National Center for Missing and Exploited Children received 1.4 million reports of online enticement in 2025. In South Africa, the Film and Publication Board identified child sexual abuse material in 9 250 items during its last financial year. A phone in a bedroom can be an open door.

We must also consider how the media children consume shape their values. If we carefully manage what children put into their bodies, we should be equally vigilant about what enters their minds.

In Fairness to the Phone

It would be dishonest to pretend phones are entirely harmful. They provide safety, particularly in South Africa, where a lift falling through or a delayed taxi can leave a child stranded. They can also support learning. PISA data suggest moderate educational use of digital devices is associated with better results.

Social media can provide friendship and acceptance, particularly for isolated children. Some games improve spatial skills and encourage cooperation.

The broader scientific debate remains unsettled. Jonathan Haidt argues in The Anxious Generation that smartphones contributed to rising teenage anxiety and depression. Researchers, including Candice Odgers and Amy Orben, dispute the strength and consistency of that relationship. Parents should take both perspectives seriously.

My conclusion is that phones have a place in children’s lives, but that place needs limits.

What Worked for Us

We never had formal rules, only gut instinct guided by a belief that being present in real life was the best way to live. Over time, some practices proved particularly valuable.

Phones could charge in the kitchen overnight, rather than in bedrooms, protecting sleep and reducing unsupervised access. Meals were more enjoyable without screens. Adults had to follow the same rules.

Gaming became a planned reward after responsibilities were met, with agreed time limits. We encouraged outdoor activities, sport, friendships, and experiences that no screen could replace.

The hardest lesson was that family rules are difficult to maintain alone. We often felt like the only parents saying no. Yet, “everyone has one” becomes less convincing when more families decide otherwise.

Schools have an important role. Phone-free classrooms, backed by parents and consistently enforced by teachers, help children concentrate and develop healthier habits.

Parents today also have support that we lacked. Smartphone Free Childhood SA, part of an international parent-led movement, encourages delaying smartphones until high school, social media until 16, and keeping schools phone-free. Its Parent Pact allows families at the same school to make these commitments collectively, reducing the pressure on individual children. Pacts are operating at close to 450 South African primary schools.

Ultimately, these decisions belong to parents, supported by their schools and communities. Government should not prescribe every answer.

We tried to make choices that gave our children the best opportunities to grow up in a world of digital dependence. We chose a school that supported our instincts and surrounded ourselves with families who shared similar values. We will never know whether every decision was right.

Some evenings we won. Many evenings we did not.

Now the house is quieter, and the only phones left on the supper table are ours. Our children are at university, where phones are essential tools for studying, banking, and travelling, and nobody takes them away at bedtime.

I hope what we put in place was enough. That they can sleep without a screen, look up when someone speaks, recognise online dangers, and appreciate the people and places around them.

They grew up through boredom, friction, faces, and fresh air. The real world is not a lesser version of the online one. It is the world they now inhabit independently, and I hope we taught them to value and prioritise it.

CJ Bare is based between South Africa and the United States and holds a degree in psychology.