Horace Camp: Education and preparation rather than smartphone ban

Let's begin with an honest acknowledgement, proposing an outright ban on smartphones for children under 16 in Guernsey isn’t feasible or realistic. Technology, particularly smartphones, has embedded itself deeply into daily life, becoming an essential tool for communication, learning, and social interaction. The genie, as they say, cannot go back into the bottle.

Furthermore, enforcing such a ban could pose unintended consequences. Tourists visiting Guernsey would undoubtedly face inconvenience if their younger children were prohibited from using smartphones, potentially deterring family visits altogether. Similarly, overly restrictive smartphone regulations might make it difficult to recruit key workers, who might view such rules as excessively intrusive or incompatible with their lifestyle and family routines.

Yet, while banning smartphones may not be practical, there’s a growing consensus around the necessity of safeguarding our children from the inherent risks they pose.

Smartphones are undeniably powerful devices capable of immense benefit and profound harm, much like many other tools or vehicles society has navigated historically.

To better understand how we might manage this modern issue, let’s consider how society has historically handled another common risk factor, transportation. Vehicles, from bicycles to cars, are beneficial, but also inherently dangerous. They require instruction, regulation, and maturity before full access is granted. Perhaps it’s time we apply a similar approach to smartphones.

Children can’t simply hop onto their bicycles and pedal to school on a whim. They first must pass a cycling proficiency test, ensuring they understand the rules of the road, safety measures, and basic maintenance. Only after demonstrating sufficient maturity and understanding can they use their bicycles independently to commute to school. The rationale behind this system is clear, to protect children from harm, prevent accidents, and instil responsible behaviours that last a lifetime.

Could we not adopt a parallel approach for smartphone usage?

Let’s briefly unpack the smartphone problem. Smartphones expose children to a range of dangers, including cyber-bullying, grooming, exposure to explicit content, addiction, and potential mental health impacts. Research consistently highlights the correlation between excessive smartphone use and anxiety, depression, disrupted sleep patterns, and social isolation in young people. The reality is stark and concerning.

Yet, despite this knowledge, children often receive their first smartphone at a startlingly young age, frequently without guidance or limitations. Unlike cycling proficiency tests, we currently have no broadly applied standards or educational requirements before granting access to this technology. The implications of this unrestricted, unmonitored access are evident and worrying.

We should begin to view smartphone proficiency similarly to how we view cycling proficiency, a skill to be learned, tested, and only then practised independently. This approach shifts the conversation from outright prohibition to structured, responsible education and incremental empowerment.

At present, there are two key groups responsible for children’s safety regarding smartphone use – parents and the States, primarily through schools.

Parents naturally bear the initial and greatest responsibility. Just as parents decide when their children are ready to learn cycling or drive a car, they must also decide when and how to introduce smartphones responsibly. However, parenting approaches vary widely, and not every household prioritises the same levels of vigilance or monitoring. Relying solely on parents without any standard benchmarks creates disparities and uneven protection for children.

That’s where schools, and by extension, the States, enter the equation. Schools have an inherent responsibility to provide a safe learning environment, shielding students from preventable harm. Schools already manage numerous safety protocols, from traffic flow during pick-up hours to comprehensive policies on bullying and mental health. It’s reasonable, then, to extend their role to managing smartphone use, particularly within their jurisdiction.

Imagine, for instance, that Guernsey introduced a smartphone proficiency test, similar to the existing cycling proficiency certification. This test could be integrated into the school curriculum during the last year of primary school, typically around ages 10 or 11. At this stage, children are mature enough to absorb structured instruction and can view passing the proficiency test as an important ‘coming-of-age’ milestone, marking their readiness for increased responsibility. Before a student could bring their smartphone to school, they would first demonstrate an understanding of internet safety, social media etiquette, privacy protection, and responsible digital citizenship.

The goal wouldn’t be merely restriction, but education and preparation, equipping children to navigate the digital world responsibly.

Schools could implement smartphone-free zones or establish rules limiting usage during school hours, except when required explicitly for educational purposes. Policies like these would reduce distraction, improve attention and concentration, and foster healthier social interactions among students.

In public spaces outside schools, community guidelines and public awareness campaigns could reinforce these principles, promoting a shared cultural understanding of responsible smartphone use. Such measures, while perhaps initially contentious, would gradually shape societal expectations around technology and its appropriate place in our children’s lives.

Of course, some argue that stringent regulations might hamper children’s digital literacy, putting them at a disadvantage compared to peers who experience freer access. Yet, proficiency tests and structured education around smartphones would likely do the opposite, enhancing digital literacy through guided, intentional instruction. These measures would equip children with the tools necessary to handle technology wisely, safely, and competently.

Critics might also contend that smartphone usage falls solely under parental authority. While parents’ primary role must be respected, leaving regulation entirely to families has proven insufficient. The current landscape clearly demonstrates this, with rising cases of online harassment, grooming, and emotional distress linked directly to unsupervised digital activity.

A partnership between schools and parents, underpinned by structured proficiency guidelines, is thus critical.

A structured system would also empower parents, providing a framework they can rely upon and a community-supported standard. It alleviates some pressure from parents who may feel uncertain or overwhelmed by the complexities of digital supervision.

To be clear, introducing a smartphone proficiency test or structured guidance is not about demonising technology. Smartphones are extraordinary tools with vast potential for learning, creativity, and connectivity. But just as we recognise the power and risks inherent in bicycles or cars, it’s essential to manage these tools appropriately, particularly when placed into young, impressionable hands.

Guernsey has an opportunity to lead here. Rather than following reactionary extremes of unrestricted access or outright bans, we can strike a sensible, balanced approach grounded in education, responsibility, and community values.

Smartphone proficiency tests might not solve every problem associated with smartphones, just as cycling proficiency tests don’t eliminate every risk on the roads. But they represent a significant step forward, reducing risk, educating young minds, and fostering responsible behaviour from an early age.

Ultimately, the question is not about whether smartphones are dangerous, they undoubtedly are, but how we choose to manage those dangers constructively and responsibly. It’s about finding the right balance between technological empowerment and necessary protection.

The bicycle analogy serves us well here, before we let our children ride alone, we teach them how to steer, brake, and respect traffic. Before we let them navigate the digital highway unsupervised, we owe them the same level of preparation and guidance.