Digital Illusions: Why Your Child Isn’t Really "Good" with Technology
Music to accompany this article: "Aquatic Ambience" by Scizzie.
As a kid, I was mesmerized by the colorful arcade screens in the bar across from my school. While other kids ran off to play soccer when the bell rang, I would spend hours in front of an old Galaxianarcade machine. One afternoon in the '80s, I saw a TV commercial for software that allowed you to create your own video game on the Commodore 64. From that moment, I started pestering my parents, with the relentless persistence only children possess, to buy me a computer. However, that year, I had to make a tough choice: for my birthday, it was either a PC or my first electric guitar. Ultimately, my passion for music prevailed, and I got my first Stratocaster knock-off. Despite choosing music, my fascination with technology never faded. I eventually convinced my parents to let me attend a programming course. I vividly remember walking into that class with my briefcase, which held a massive manual in five volumes, probably still sitting in my parents’ house. One of the first things I learned was how to create a simple loop: a sequence of commands that filled the screen endlessly with the same message. I sat there, in front of that cathode-ray tube monitor, and typed:
10 PRINT "HELLO SIMONE"; 20 GOTO 10.
The computer greeted me, over and over again, non-stop. That endless loop etched itself into my memory. It wasn’t just about programming; it was about realizing that through code, I could shape something infinite from seemingly nothing.
Through code, I could shape something infinite from seemingly nothing
Those machines, which at first seemed almost magical, turned out to be quite the opposite: once you learned their lingo, they were, in reality, quite stupid. To make them perform a relatively simple task, like greeting me, you had to follow a series of complex steps; otherwise, they would remain inert and silent — mere lumps of plastic, chips, and transistors. I realized that for every (human) input, there was always an (artificial) output. And to be able to write that input, you had to study and learn the computers' lingo. In retrospect, this same principle still applies every time we ask ChatGPT something, except today, we've given it a name (prompt engineering) and granted it academic dignity.
I came home with the memory of that screen greeting me, feeling like a little hacker, ready to break into the Defense Department's systems, just like in WarGames. And, in a way, it was true: no one in my class had ever been greeted by a computer! Knowing how to do that in the early '80s really sounded like esoteric knowledge. That year, in elementary school, I earned the technological respect of both kids and adults. Yes, because when my mother was told, "Your son is good with technology," it was true. Not because I was particularly gifted at programming. In fact, no one is "gifted" for anything. Talent is a myth — a romantic idea that makes us underestimate the importance of effort and perseverance, as demonstrated by the 10,000-hour theory popularized by Malcolm Gladwell.
No one in my class had ever been greeted by a computer! Knowing how to do that in the early '80s really sounded like esoteric knowledge.
If I managed to get a computer to say "hello" to me, it wasn't because I was born with a unique talent but because, at eight years old, I had already spent hundreds of hours coding in BASIC, far more than my classmates' parents. Today, on the contrary, when someone says my son is "good with technology," it's usually far from the truth. My son (like yours) knows how to turn on an iPhone. He knows how to zoom in on a photo, skip an ad on YouTube, and select a cartoon on Netflix. However, he is not good with technology. If anything, the new technologies are childproof — or rather, monkey-proof…
Now, stop and read this passage carefully, because it's crucial: close your eyes and recall the moment you saw your child surrounded by grandparents and other parents, all saying in unison, "Wow! He/She already knows how to use a phone better than we do! How clever he/she is!" It must have happened at least once. Are you proud? Do you think you've given birth to a little computer genius? If yes, put down the book briefly and search on YouTube for "Sugriva the chimpanzee swipes through photos on Instagram."
Done? Now imagine handing an iPhone to a chimpanzee—it would likely figure out how to swipe and tap, just like our kids (thanks, Steve Jobs!). And why is that? Because both children and chimps are instinctively good with technology when it’s designed to remove complexity. The smartphone interface wasn’t made to make us think; it was crafted to be intuitive. Tap a button, and an app opens. You don’t need to understand programming or systems. It’s so seamless that even the most tech-illiterate person can use it without ever wondering why it works the way it does.
Both children and chimps are instinctively good with technology when it’s designed to remove complexity.
For all you know, there could be elves inside your smartphone. However, we old nerds definitely remember how technology works... Because, as I wrote a few lines ago, we had to learn to program to get a monitor to say hello, and to skip a boring school lesson, we had to learn to hack... My former classmates still laugh when, in my first year of high school, I replaced all the educational software executables with "PRINCE_OF_PERSIA.EXE" on all the 386 computers in the computer lab. No one learned anything that year, except how to drink potions and stab enemies with scimitars, but...
No one learned anything that year, except how to drink potions and stab enemies with scimitars, but...
The problem with technology today is that interfaces have become too simple. And simplicity always breeds dependency. Even my mother tells me she has switched to ChatGPT because Google’s algorithm no longer satisfies her! We’ve clearly entered a new technological paradigm where knowledge is no longer esoteric but exoteric. Not, therefore, reserved for a few initiated pre-teen nerds with too many 20-sided dice in their school pencil case, but accessible to pretty much everyone.
The problem with technology today is that interfaces have become too simple. And simplicity always breeds dependency.
Selfishly, I’d love for my son to share my passion for video games, just as — I imagine — my father would have liked to have me by his side during his endless (and, at least for me, incredibly boring) fishing trips. And I must admit that sometimes my son and I play video games together. However, I’m fully aware of the risks associated with early exposure to technology, so I try to do it rarely and carefully choose which systems to let him use. It’s always technology with slow dopamine release. For instance, teaching him the Hadouken sequence on Street Fighter (in case you’re wondering, it’s down, down-forward, forward, punch) is very different from letting him endlessly swipe on TikTok. Now, give me a two-year-old who can execute a fatality in Mortal Kombat, and then I’ll agree that your child is good with technology. But until then...
Give me a two-year-old who can execute a fatality in Mortal Kombat, and then I’ll agree that your child is good with technology. But until then...
This constant boasting about children's technological abilities is also a dangerous vicious cycle. We think, "He/she’s so clever; look how he opens YouTube!" and thus, we give him/her even more screen time, thinking we are fostering some extraordinary synaptic development. In reality, we’re destroying those synapses.
Most researchers have expressed concern that excessive smartphone use may lead to a decline in children's cognitive abilities, particularly short-term memory and concentration capacity, even suggesting that prolonged exposure may cause problems similar to those observed in attention deficit and hyperactivity disorders. Other studies have reported a significant increase in depressive and anxious symptoms among children who heavily use smartphones. These studies suggest that prolonged exposure to digital devices can alter self-perception, potentially increasing the incidence of depression and anxiety at an early age. Others are even more ominous, hypothesizing that overexposure to digital stimuli could interfere with synaptic development, leading to permanent cognitive deficits and mimicking or exacerbating autism symptoms. Still not convinced? The University of Heidelberg used MRI to study the brains of children addicted to smartphones, discovering significant changes in gray matter in brain regions crucial for emotional control, memory, and decision-making. And do you know what they found? These changes are similar to those observed in cocaine users.
Overexposure to digital stimuli could interfere with synaptic development, leading to permanent cognitive deficits and mimicking or exacerbating autism symptoms.
How many times are we tempted to give our kids the tablet at a restaurant so we can eat in peace? Well, know that it’s not very different from handing them a line of coke... Smartphones are comfort tech, just as McDonald's is comfort food. And just as you (hopefully) wouldn’t give your child a Big Mac, preferring healthier protein sources, let's learn not to provide them with an iPhone, either. At least, not yet.
Smartphones are comfort tech, just as McDonald's is comfort food. And just as you (hopefully) wouldn’t give your child a Big Mac, preferring healthier protein sources, let's learn not to provide them with an iPhone, either. At least, not yet.
If we really want them to interact with a screen while we enjoy dinner with friends, I have a good suggestion: let’s make them "have fun" on a buggy PC with Windows 95 installed, connected to the internet via a 56k modem. You'll see that after the third "blue screen of death,"they’ll be the ones begging us to go play with their friends.
Or, heaven forbid, to read a book...
