I recently read The Anxious Generation, a book by social psychologist Jonathan Haidt about the negative effects of smartphones and social media on teenagers, primarily young girls.
There’s already plenty to be anxious about as a parent, from your kids’ health and well-being to the impact of a potential trade war on the economy and grocery prices. I know endless doomscrolling on my phone heightens my own anxiety, but smartphones are also wreaking havoc on the mental health of our children.
According to Mr. Haidt’s book, two phenomena have converged to harm youth mental health: first, as a society we started overprotecting our children, reducing their ability to engage in risky free play, and instead overscheduling them with extracurricular activities and parent-monitored play. All this means they’ve had fewer opportunities to face challenges and build confidence and independence.
Second, we didn’t give our children enough protection in the virtual world, partly due to ignorance about what they were doing online, and partly because of a lack of perceived danger.
As a mom of two daughters ages one and three, I was intrigued by Mr. Haidt’s thesis, and as an avid smartphone and social media user myself, I expected to resonate with the book’s take on how addictive technology and apps such as Instagram can be.
What I didn’t expect was that, by chapter two, I’d not only have deleted my social media apps for a digital detox, but I’d fundamentally change my perspective on the cost of our addiction to technology.
So, what is that cost? Of course there is the price tag of the actual technology and access to it – buying the latest iPhone starts at $1,129 plus tax, mobile phone plans in Canada are the fourth-highest in the world, and WiFi here is on average $79.38 per month.
Add in hardware such as smartwatches, laptops, iPads, AirPods, smart TVs, and video game consoles, and software such as streaming services, apps, and digital subscriptions, and it can easily cost a household thousands of dollars a year to stay outfitted in the latest devices and connected to their favourite services.
There is also the cost of social media creators modelling rampant consumerism. I watched TikTok gift haul videos with a kind of “you can’t look away” horror over the holidays – teens receiving tens of thousands of dollars in gifts, ranging from designer handbags and shoes to luxury skincare lines.
These are the influencers who are crafting our kids’ wish lists, and you can credit them directly for the rise of “Sephora kids,” tween girls who have flocked to buy expensive skincare products designed for adults.
It’s not just our kids who feel the social pressure to buy – in this column, I’ve written about the pressure social media can put on parents to buy the right products for their kids, throw the best birthday parties, or get the latest parenting must-have.
Most importantly – and in my mind most damaging – is the cost of our attention. Mr. Haidt’s book outlines the four negative effects of smartphones and social media on youth, from lack of real-life social relationships to sleep deprivation, fragmented attention, and addiction to devices and technology.
I see these negative effects modelled clearly in myself. How many times have I stayed up scrolling social media later than I wanted to, bought a product with one click from a social media ad, or checked my phone while at dinner with friends just in case there was a notification that would deliver a hit of dopamine?
The Anxious Generation suggests a few key takeaways for parents. First, limit social media use until age 16. Sure, give your child a so-called “dumb phone” for emergencies, but limit access to an internet- and social media-connected device until they’re older.
Second, encourage more independent free play, including more time in nature and activities such as camping. And finally, model positive behaviour when it comes to smartphone and technology use.
Note that these suggestions don’t just positively affect our children’s mental health, they can also save us money. And where these suggestions do require an investment – for example, sending our kids to summer camp – it’s an investment in their mental health.
My daughters will take cues from me and my husband as they grow up. If our faces are buried in smartphones 24/7, and if we make our buying decisions based on what an influencer deems to be cool, they will follow suit.
If we as parents struggle to put down our phones, how can we expect our children to do the same?
Erin Bury is the co-founder and CEO of online estate planning platform Willful.co. She lives in rural Ontario with her husband and two young children.