The Childhood We Are Creating

"It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men."

— Frederick Douglass

Every generation seems to worry that the next one is growing up differently. My grandparents probably wondered whether television would change childhood forever. My parents saw the arrival of video games. Today, many of us worry about smartphones, tablets, social media, and artificial intelligence. The technology changes, but the concern remains remarkably similar.

As someone who enjoys technology, teaches computer science, and uses artificial intelligence almost every day, I find it difficult to argue that technology itself is the problem. Through a screen, our children can learn a language, explore museums on the other side of the world, create music, write software, or discover interests that we never had ourselves. Technology has opened extraordinary opportunities, and I would never want to deny those opportunities to the next generation.

The question I keep asking myself is a different one. If children are spending more time with screens than ever before, what experiences are becoming less common? More importantly, what kind of childhood are we creating for them?

When I was growing up, I spent a fair amount of time outside. I was not constantly climbing trees or disappearing into the woods, but I spent enough time outdoors to observe the world around me. I watched insects, wondered why plants grew differently depending on where they were, noticed birds, and paid attention to things that today many of us simply walk past. None of those moments felt like lessons. They were simply part of everyday life. Looking back, I realize I was learning all the time without realizing it.

My parents also did something that, at the time, I probably did not appreciate. They often took us with them while they attended to whatever they needed to do. We were expected to wait, to entertain ourselves, to look around, to talk to one another, or simply to deal with being bored for a while. Nobody organized an activity for every minute of the day. Nobody felt responsible for making sure we were constantly entertained.

I sometimes wonder if we have become uncomfortable with boredom. Today it almost feels as though children should never have to experience it. If we are waiting in a restaurant, there is a phone. If we are standing in line, there is a tablet. If we have errands to run, entertainment is immediately available. We hire tutors, coaches, organized activities, and sometimes even caregivers whose role extends beyond supervision to making sure children are never left wondering what to do next.

I understand why we do it. Parenting is demanding, and life is busy. Sometimes we simply need a few quiet minutes to finish a conversation, answer an email, or prepare dinner. Handing a child a device often solves an immediate problem. This is not about judging parents. I think every parent has done something for convenience at one time or another.

What I do wonder is whether we are unintentionally removing opportunities for creativity.

Boredom is often uncomfortable at first, but it has a remarkable way of encouraging children to invent games, observe their surroundings, ask questions, imagine stories, build something, or simply sit and think. Many of our best ideas arrive only after there is nothing obvious left to do. If every empty moment is immediately filled with entertainment, are we also reducing the opportunities for imagination to take over?

I also think we sometimes place too much responsibility on technology itself. Adults often complain that children spend too much time on their devices, but we are usually the ones who buy those devices, pay for the internet connection, and decide when they can be used. We worry about the relationship our children have with technology, but we are also the people responsible for helping them develop a healthy one.

Sometimes technology quietly becomes a substitute for guidance. If children are busy looking at a screen, we know where they are. They are not climbing furniture, wandering away, or getting into mischief. In the short term, that feels reassuring. The problem is that being occupied is not the same thing as being guided. A screen can hold a child's attention, but it cannot replace conversations, shared experiences, encouragement, or the patient supervision that helps children make sense of the world around them.

This is one of the reasons I think it is important for children to have experiences beyond a screen. Sometimes those experiences happen outdoors. A walk through a park, exploring a creek, watching birds, or simply looking at the night sky can awaken curiosity in ways that are difficult to predict. At other times, they happen indoors. Building something together, cooking, reading, painting, experimenting with simple science projects, taking apart an old appliance to see how it works, or even having a long conversation can be just as meaningful.

I do not believe there is a single formula for raising curious children. Every family is different. Some live where the weather makes outdoor activities difficult for much of the year. Others live in large cities with limited access to nature. Every family has different schedules, different interests, and different challenges. My intention is not to suggest that one particular activity is the answer.

What I do think is worth asking is whether we are intentionally creating opportunities for discovery. Are we giving our children chances to observe, ask questions, solve problems, build something, become bored once in a while, and experience the satisfaction of figuring something out for themselves? Those opportunities can take many different forms, but they rarely appear on their own. They usually require an adult who is willing to create the space for them.

Perhaps our role as parents is not to compete with technology. We will probably lose that competition. Instead, we can provide experiences that technology cannot completely replace. Meaningful conversations. Shared projects. Exploration. Mistakes. Patience. Laughter. Wonder. The realization that learning is not something that only happens in school, but something that can happen almost anywhere.

"All who have meditated on the art of governing mankind have been convinced that the fate of empires depends on the education of youth."

— Aristotle

Whether or not we are raising the next scientist, engineer, artist, teacher, or parent, we are helping shape the next generation of human beings. That responsibility extends far beyond preparing children for exams or successful careers. It includes helping them become thoughtful, resilient, curious, and capable of making wise decisions when nobody is watching.

When I think about the future, I do not ask myself how many hours my children spent in front of a screen. I wonder what memories they will carry with them. I wonder what experiences shaped the way they think. I wonder whether they learned to ask good questions, whether they discovered the joy of solving a problem on their own, whether they became comfortable with moments of silence, and whether they grew into adults who never stopped being curious.

Perhaps that is the childhood we should be trying to create.