Barrtalk: Screen time is a handy scapegoat, but is it a big problem?

I recently read a New York Times opinion column about children's mental health and our growing obsession with screen time.

It struck a chord with me because, while smartphones and social media can undoubtedly cause problems for young people [and there’ve certainly been plenty of battles over screen time in the Barrtalk household], I tend to agree with its central argument that we may be blaming the wrong thing.

We've developed an extraordinary talent for identifying what's supposedly ‘ruining’ the younger generation. It used to be television, then ‘violent’ [sic] video games, then the internet, and now it’s smartphones.

Parents are worried, politicians are issuing warnings and experts are telling us children need less screen time and more real life.

But what if the screen isn't always the problem so much as a symptom?

The New York Times column highlighted the distinction between simply spending hours on a device and using it compulsively, to the detriment of sleep, relationships, schoolwork and everyday life.

A teenager enjoying a computer game is one thing. A youngster who cannot put the controller down despite their education, friendships and wellbeing suffering might need more than a lecture about screen time. They might need help with anxiety, depression or problems at home.

And that's where things become considerably more complicated than switching off the Wi-Fi.

It's easy to see the appeal of a simple solution.

Unfortunately, mental health doesn't come with an on-off switch.

What particularly struck me about the column was its argument that our obsession with screens risks distracting us from more fundamental questions. Are children getting the psychological support they need? Can families access treatment when they desperately need it?

And this isn't some distant American problem we can safely file under 'things that happen elsewhere'. Here in Inishowen, we've heard tonnes of anecdotal evidence from parents about the long waiting times they face when trying to access CAMHS and other children's services.

Behind every waiting list is a family trying to navigate an often stressful situation. Parents worried about their children shouldn't have to spend months wondering when help might finally arrive.

I find it frustrating that we can devote endless attention to children's screen habits while families struggle to access professional support.

Of course, sensible boundaries around technology have their place. Compulsive social media use can be damaging, and putting phones away at bedtime or during family meals is hardly unreasonable.

But if a child is suffering from anxiety or depression, telling them to spend less time on their phone is no substitute for proper treatment.

I also suspect adults sometimes find it easier to blame technology than examine our own behaviour. We complain about teenagers being glued to their phones while checking emails at dinner and scrolling through social media before bed.

Do as I say, not as I swipe.

Love at first algorithm

I’m beginning to think I’ve wasted the best years of my life scribbling away with a notepad and pen [or laptop] when I should have been developing a dating app.

There’s clearly money to be made in the business of trying to get people together!

As a child of the 1980s, I fear I missed the boat with the whole online dating thing. Back in my day, if you fancied somebody, you had to summon the courage to speak to them in person.

There was no swiping left or right, no carefully curated profile and certainly no artificial intelligence to help you sound more interesting than you actually were.

Now Bumble, the dating app that once insisted women make the first move, has been bought for a whopping $1.3 billion. That’s a lot of money for something that essentially helps people decide whether they fancy the look of somebody before reading their biography.

The new owners have described the takeover as “a bet on the future of humanity”. I don’t know about you, but I’d have thought humanity had enough problems without needing artificial intelligence to help it get a date.

Now they’re incorporating AI into the app, including technology to help people create their profiles. Imagine needing a computer to tell you how wonderful you are. I’ve been doing that for years without any technological assistance whatsoever.

Mind you, if AI can help people avoid the usual online dating clichés, it might be worth every cent of that $1.3 billion. I’ve never been on Bumble, but I suspect there are still plenty of people whose idea of a personality is listing their holidays, gym sessions and love of “good banter”. Please. No one cares how many ‘kettle bells’ you did.

And here’s the funny thing. Dating apps are struggling because younger people are getting fed up with them. Some are turning to book clubs, board games and other gatherings to meet somebody the old-fashioned way.

Fancy that. People actually leaving their houses to meet other people.

Maybe I should forget about journalism altogether and launch the Barrtalk Dating. I could match people according to their taste in music, their tolerance for dad jokes and whether they agree that Achtung Baby is U2’s best album [which it is, ahead of the Joshua Tree and the Unforgettable Fire.]

Naturally, I’d charge a modest subscription fee, introduce an AI wingman, and promise to find everyone their perfect match.

The only drawback is that I’d probably spend so long writing the profiles that the couples would have broken up before I finished.

Still, if Bumble can attract a billion-dollar buy-out, perhaps there’s hope for me yet. Maybe ‘big tech’ will come in with a lucrative offer for the Barrtalk Column?