The Curse of Tech

I’ll be the first to admit, ours is a very tech-heavy house.  I use the pc every day, it’s my lifeline to the outside world, for friends, for shopping (from boring groceries to the more fun stuff), it gives me news, views, and discussions to feed my mind, it inspires, it allows me to express myself, here and in other places and forms.  In short, I’d be lost without it.

My Kindle allows me to carry on with my beloved reading now that I can no longer hold physical books for any length of time.

And my cheap little tablet (a Tesco Hudl if you’re wondering) puts all that into a small package for if I’m away from home for a long time, or can't sit at the PC.

My kids are also techy, in a gaming way.  Between them, they have over the years amassed an impressive array of consoles, from the ancient to the (almost) modern, plus an old laptop that just about handles Steam powered games.  The middle one even wants to go into game design as he gets older, and already has some fascinating ideas.

But all that aside, I will also be the first to admit that tech can be damaging.  Without limits, it can take over lives, suck the user in never to be seen again, so to speak.

There are studies coming out that indicate speech and developmental delays in the very young who use tech a lot.  Of course, the whole ‘end of civilised conversation’ argument was also made when TV started, and when the number of channels suddenly leapt with the advent of satellite and cable.  It was even a fear when novels first became popular way back in the 1700s.  But this time, there is a subtle difference.  It is not always the tech user who is the one to be affected.

I saw this in action just this morning.  I was waiting for the bus after a medical appointment (whether I should be using the bus today is another argument, one where the answer is a resounding no, but needs must).  Anyway, as I’m standing at the bus stop, a lady joins me with a little boy, I’d say around 18-24 months old, in a pushchair.  She parks him up, stands behind him so he can’t see her, pulls out her phone, starts tapping away, and for the next ten minutes, barely interacts with him.

The little guy was calling ‘mummy’ in that excited 2 year old way, he was pointing out the ‘bue car’, the ‘big buz’, the ‘twee’, he was just trying to get her attention, but nothing.

Now, all parents and early years educators know, the way a child learns at that age is by copying.  When they tell you about the ‘bue car’, you don’t ignore, you respond with a cheerful and affirming ‘yes, a blue car’.  You engage.  You respond.  You have a conversation, however stunted.

Because otherwise, in a few years time, you’ll have a child who thinks he doesn’t have to reply when his name is called, because ‘mummy’ never has.  Who is having communication problems.  Who doesn’t quite ‘get’ how to be in a social setting.

And it’s not the tech user (mum) who will be suffering the most, it’ll be the child … and his teachers, and his peers, will be picking up the pieces.

So, for whatever being you believe in’s sake, put the darned phone down, step away from the screen.  You have one of the most amazing creatures in existence with you, and you’d rather be playing games or discussing trivialities with someone on the other end of a web connection.  There is a time and place for that, I’m not saying never, but it’s doubtful anything is so important that you can’t put it away for ten minutes to stare at the leaves on the trees with little eyes who are still amazed by such things.