Something has gone terribly wrong—and we all know it. You feel it when you see a group of middle schoolers sitting in silence, each absorbed in a screen. You feel it when your once-joyful teen suddenly withdraws, overcome with anxiety or depression. And now, the data confirm it: childhood and adolescence in America have been hijacked by screens—and smartphones are leading the charge.

This isn’t about guilt—it’s about equipping parents. At OCPA, part of our mission is to advance principles and policies that support strong families. We want to help Oklahoma families make informed, intentional decisions that strengthen their homes, uphold conservative values, and pass on the character and virtue the next generation will need to preserve our constitutional republic.

Jonathan Haidt, a respected social psychologist and author of The Anxious Generation, puts it plainly: beginning around 2012, something shifted. That year marked the first time a majority of teens had smartphones. Since then, rates of anxiety, depression, self-harm, and loneliness among young people have surged. For girls especially, the statistics are heartbreaking—ER visits for self-harm have more than doubled for teen girls over the past decade.

So what happened?

We replaced play with screens. We traded face-to-face interaction for endless scrolling. And we gave children—and yes, they are still children—access to powerful technologies before they had the maturity to handle them.

A Cultural Shift Worth Reversing

This isn’t about being anti-technology. It’s about wisdom. It’s about parents reclaiming their authority, and communities refusing to normalize what research clearly shows is harmful. We have to start pulling back. For the sake of our kids, our grandkids, and the kind of future we want to hand them, it’s time to say: enough.

Thankfully, families across the country are beginning to do just that. Initiatives like Wait Until 8th encourage parents to delay giving their child a smartphone until at least 8th grade. Others, such as ScreenStrong and The Anxious Generation, provide resources, research, and practical strategies to help families rethink the role of screens in childhood.

Here in Oklahoma, we’re starting to see meaningful policy changes as well. Thanks to the passage of Senate Bill 139, public schools will be required—beginning in the 2025–2026 school year—to prohibit student use of cell phones and personal electronic devices during the school day, from bell to bell. It’s a strong step in the right direction, recognizing that even basic guardrails around tech can protect learning and promote healthier social habits.

We’ve become accustomed to the idea that kids need smartphones to stay safe, stay connected, or be socially included. But the truth is, no major medical organization recommends giving children unfiltered access to smartphones or social media—and teens themselves are telling us it’s not working. According to a July 2025 Pew Research Center report, 38% of teens say social media makes them feel worse about their lives, with teen girls most affected. Nearly half of teens say it’s harming their sleep, and 40% say it hurts their productivity. Even those who see some benefits report feeling constant pressure to perform, present, and compare.

These aren’t just statistics—they’re warnings. And they should prompt us to ask: what would it look like to take a different path?

Research-Based, Common-Sense Solutions

Dr. Haidt’s work, along with insights from Wait Until 8th, ScreenStrong, and Pew Research Center, points to a growing consensus about what’s needed. These aren’t radical proposals—they’re common-sense decisions families across the country are already making:

• No smartphones before high school.
  If safety or logistics are a concern, basic phones or smartwatches can meet those needs without exposing kids to the full force of the internet.
• Delay social media until at least age 16.
  The developing teen brain isn’t equipped to handle algorithm-driven comparison, peer pressure, and addictive feedback loops. Let them build confidence and identity offline first.
• Establish screen-free zones and times at home.
  Family dinners, bedrooms, and time before bed should be protected. These simple boundaries improve sleep, conversation, and mental health.
• Phone-free—and screen-limited—schools.
  SB 139 mandates no personal devices during the school day, which is a great start. But schools and families can go further: clear, consistent expectations—paired with instruction about why screen limits matter—can reinforce healthy habits.
• Encourage real-world play, friendships, and independence.
  Kids thrive when they explore, create, and connect in real life. Outdoor play, board games, chores, and hobbies build resilience and joy that screens simply can’t replicate.
• Educate kids early on digital literacy and tech boundaries.
  When the time comes, children should be taught how to use tech wisely—not just handed a device and left to figure it out. Talk early and often about the purpose and limits of screens.
• Start parent conversations early—and do it together.
  One of the most practical tools parents have is community. Talk to other parents. Agree to wait. Much of the pressure to conform comes from the belief that “everyone else already has one.” Shared standards reduce isolation and strengthen resolve.

These steps aren’t just backed by research—they reflect the values many of us were raised with: boundaries, innocence, and letting kids be kids.

Laws like SB 139 are a welcome start, but we also know what the government can’t do. It can’t raise our children. It can’t disciple them. And it can’t rebuild family culture. Those responsibilities belong to the other two God-ordained institutions: the family and the church.

That’s why this conversation ultimately isn’t just about policy—it’s about parenting. It’s about what we normalize, what we model, and what we’re willing to push back against for the sake of our children’s future. It’s about the daily decisions we make as moms and dads to resist what’s easy in favor of what’s right.

A Call to Parents: It’s Not Too Late

In Oklahoma, we often say faith, family, and freedom are at the heart of who we are. But in this case, freedom means restraint—the freedom to say no to cultural pressures and yes to protecting childhood.

Parents have every right to push back. You are not overreacting. You are not being unreasonable. You are doing exactly what parents are supposed to do—protecting your child’s well-being, even when it’s countercultural. You don’t need to apologize for setting firm digital boundaries in your home. In fact, we need more parents willing to lead with conviction instead of convenience.

I don’t pretend to have all the answers. Personally, I’m still a few years away from the smartphone conversation. My oldest is about to start 6th grade, and he hasn’t started asking yet. But my wife and I are already strategizing about and discussing the stand we want to take, and we’re ready to say, “not yet.”

We’re not trying to go backward. We’re trying to go forward—with wisdom. Our goal isn’t to make our kids fear technology—it’s to help them master it, rather than be mastered by it. That takes time. It takes limits. And it takes courage to stand firm in a culture that insists childhood must be plugged in.

So if your child already has a smartphone, this isn’t about shame. It’s about opportunity. It’s not too late to change course, to reset expectations, and to lead with greater intentionality. Start the conversation. Talk with your child. Set new boundaries. Or delay the introduction altogether.

And know this: you’re not alone. Across the country—and right here in Oklahoma—more and more families are choosing a different path. They’re realizing that just because something is normal doesn’t mean it’s healthy. And just because it’s common doesn’t mean it’s wise.

You don’t have to be perfect—you just have to be intentional. The culture will keep moving fast. The pressure will keep coming. But you still have the authority—and the responsibility—to slow things down for your kids.

You can say no to the trends and yes to what’s best. You can choose a slower, more deliberate path. You can guard their childhood—while there’s still time.

And you won’t regret it.