As early as 2007, pediatrician Dimitri Christakis suspected that parents should severely restrict their children’s access to television. Two years later, he continued his quest, arguing,

The truth is that we’re in the midst of a large, uncontrolled experiment on the next generation of children. We’re not going to know for years what the effects of all this exposure to TV will mean, in a scientific sense. But I’m concerned that we’re not going to be pleased with the results.

While Christakis was expressing his concerns about children and television, a new technological revolution was beginning with Apple’s release of the first iPhone. Fourteen years later, the results are in, and Christakis was right; the results are unfavorable, as Jonathan Haidt makes abundantly clear in The Anxious Generation. Concerns that had seemed like grumpy rants from angsty academics are now the unquestioned norm. We’ve discovered that the way most people experience the world isn’t particularly good for any of us, especially kids.

In her book The Tech Exit: A Practical Guide to Freeing Kids and Teens from Smartphones, Clare Morell, a fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center, refuses to accept the norm. It’s not enough to wring our hands, lamenting the anxiety induced by a seemingly unavoidable technological upbringing. Instead, she writes, “I hope to convince you that digital technologies need not be an inevitable part of childhood. A different future is possible” (xiv). She refers to this alternative path as the “Tech Exit,” which is a simple (if bold) call for “no smartphones, social media, tablets, or video games during childhood” (55).

Myth of Moderation

Some have tried to find other causes for a measurable increase in youth anxiety. Yet it’s becoming clearer every year that there’s a cause-and-effect relationship between a child’s exposure to digital technologies and poor mental health. Morell writes, “Social media is clearly a cause, not just a correlate, of the increase in depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts among teens.” And it’s worse for girls than for boys, as she notes: “The more time a girl spends on social media, the more likely she is to be depressed” (4).

In addition to fostering poor mental health, digital technologies lead to diminished self-control and strip young people of the ability to enjoy normal, everyday-life experiences. “It turns out that screens cost children more than just their time,” Morell argues. “They also cause them to lose their appetite for things of the real world” (13). A child conditioned to the ever-changing, always-exciting “adventures” of the digital world never learns how to find joy in the simple moments that make up most of life.

The natural parental response to this bad news is to set screen-time limits. This ignores the addictive nature of digital technologies. Asking a child to limit screen time is like asking them to do drugs in moderation. With digital technologies, the addictive substance is dopamine. And their addictive nature isn’t accidental. “When we examine smartphones and social media apps, it’s clear they are designed to undermine any impulse control or effort to use them in moderation,” writes Morell. “In fact, the effect they produce in the brain resembles the most addictive drugs, like cocaine” (7). These findings underpin her argument for abstinence rather than moderation.

Asking a child to limit screen time is like asking them to do drugs in moderation.

Prepare a Feast

Parents who choose to embrace the “Tech Exit” lifestyle will likely find that the best path forward isn’t the one of least resistance. The unquestioned norm of our day is to give children screens, and parents will likely feel pressure to “stop making a big deal out of nothing” or “quit overreacting.” That’s why simply rejecting screens isn’t enough. Parents must also intentionally embrace habits and rhythms that fill the “screen-time void” in meaningful ways. Morell uses the acronym FEAST to give parents a realistic roadmap:

F: Find Other Families

E: Explain, Educate, and Exemplify

A: Adopt Alternatives

S: Set Up Digital Accountability and Family Screen Rules

T: Trade Screens for Real-Life Responsibilities and Pursuits

Though the core concept of each step is fairly self-explanatory, Morell helpfully expands on practical suggestions to aid parents in the difficult task of moving from theory to practice.

Regarding the pursuit of real-life activities, she writes, “While Tech Exit parents are more restrictive in the virtual realm, they allow their children greater freedoms in the real world” (114). In other words, the “Tech Exit” lifestyle isn’t motivated by asceticism but by a pursuit of real-life responsibilities and embodied joys.

Morell suggests practices—like cooking, serving, hiking, talking, and riding bikes—that families can embrace instead of digital alternatives. For example, one family featured in the book took advantage of extra time during the summer to teach their younger children a new household skill. This gave their children greater confidence as they moved into adulthood. It also taught them to serve, love, and think about others. Other families encourage walks, playing music together, and using spare electronic components to invent new gadgets. Kids exposed to real experiences, Morell claims, “lose their taste for the cheap digital substitutes that screens offer” (117).

Cultivate Virtue

The most common objection I hear from parents about a tech-free lifestyle is that their children won’t learn how to moderate their own technology use if they aren’t exposed to it early in life. This ignores the addictive design of many digital technologies, which are created to overcome self-control. Most kids don’t have the capacity to resist these digital temptations on their own.

Another common objection to withholding technology is that kids will grow up technologically illiterate. But the primary goal of parenting isn’t to raise “tech-savvy” children but to raise virtuous children who love Jesus with their heart, soul, mind, and strength. Additionally, this objection exaggerates the difficulty of gaining technical competency as a young adult.

The primary goal of parenting isn’t to raise ‘tech-savvy’ children but to raise virtuous children who love Jesus with their heart, soul, mind, and strength.

The bigger challenge for many parents will be that restricting tech access for their kids will require more self-control. The best way for parents to teach their children responsible technology habits is by modeling responsible technology habits in front of their children. Virtue is cultivated by both imitation and practice.

Furthermore, restricting technology in the home entails a substantial sacrifice, especially when using a device as a digital pacifier seems most tempting. For some parents, a shift like this will require more intentional engagement with their children, which can be difficult at the end of a stressful day.

The countercultural approach outlined in this book won’t be easy and may not work for everyone in every context. Yet Morell shows that the self-control, virtuous character, and real-life experiences a family gains in return for avoiding tech dependence are worth the cost. Whether readers accept all of Morell’s prescriptions or not, The Tech Exit is an excellent resource that can help parents, pastors, and youth workers advocate for a better strategy for technology use in their churches and communities.