Within the first 24 hours of my daughter’s life, I put a screen in her face.
I know. That’s the opposite of all the research I had highlighted and annotated while my wife was pregnant. But it wasn’t by choice. That screen was the only way my wife could meet our newborn.
As soon as our daughter was born, she was rushed to the NICU, tubes and cords draped across her swaddle while clinicians moved quickly around her. My wife was rolled out of the operating room in the opposite direction to receive intravenous magnesium for suspected preeclampsia.
She couldn’t hold our baby for the first 24 hours of her life. So I held up a phone.
Through FaceTime, my wife met the tiny fighter she had just brought into the world. I still have the screenshot from that moment. When we finally brought our baby home, we tried to avoid screens altogether. We had read the guidance: infants should have little to no screen exposure. But screens were everywhere.
We became parents at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, when every new virus variant seemed to appear just as we were finally ready to walk into a grocery store again. So our daughter met grandparents, cousins and friends through screens.
As parents of a premature baby, we watched her like hawks. Every eye movement. Every babble. Every head lift. Our developmental pediatrician warned us about possible delays, so we studied every tiny milestone. Ironically, it was a screen that gave us one of our most reassuring moments.
During the 2020 Summer Olympics, our barely 60-day-old preemie tracked a ping-pong rally across the television. Her head moved side to side, and her tiny eyes followed that tiny ball. Another time, she would instantly stop crying or giggle when the catchy theme song from the ’90s sitcom Smart Guy came on. (Yes, we are those nostalgic millennials rewatching childhood shows.)
Because we weren’t around many other people during lockdown, the sounds and visuals in our home became strange little markers of development.
When our daughter grew into toddlerhood, we cautiously experimented with a few children’s programs.
Our rotation included Ms. Monica’s Circle Time and Ada Twist, Scientist for culturally relevant and playful introductions to phonics, object identification, and scientific thinking. Word Party was great for reinforcing vocabulary and early language exposure.
But we rarely just pressed play. Most of the time, we were watching with her, singing along, repeating sounds and asking questions.
Researchers call this co-viewing: when adults watch and interact with media alongside children. Studies show that when caregivers talk with children during media use, repeating words, asking questions or connecting what’s on screen to real life, children process and remember more of what they see.
In other words, the screen isn’t doing the teaching by itself. Much of the learning happens in the conversation around it.
But I’ll be clear: we have not figured this out. Parenting and technology evolve at about the same pace, and that pace is quick.
We’ve had our share of “Here, take the tablet and sit still while I finish this” moments. And we learned quickly how counterproductive that can be. Because when screen time stretches too long, the cognitive overload monster shows up.
Young children’s brains are still developing the executive functions that regulate attention, emotion and self-control. These skills rely heavily on the prefrontal cortex and develop gradually throughout childhood. Highly stimulating digital media that includes features like fast pacing, constant motion, bright colors, and rapid scene changes can overwhelm children’s brains. Experimental studies have found that exposure to fast-paced media can temporarily disrupt executive function in preschool children.
In other words, the same design features that capture children’s attention can also overstimulate their developing brains. That complexity is part of why pediatric guidance around screen time is evolving.
For years, the conversation focused on how many minutes children spent in front of screens. But newer research suggests the question isn’t just how much screen time children get. A major update in science shows that what also matters is what kind of digital environment surrounds them.
The American Academy of Pediatrics’ updated guidance reflects this shift. Instead of focusing only on minutes, the organization encourages adults to think about children’s digital ecosystems, which are the broader environment of devices, content, digital algorithms, and interactions shaping how children experience media.
Their recommendations still include familiar guidance:
- avoid screen exposure for children under 18 months, except for video calls
- ensure media does not interfere with sleep, physical activity or social interaction
- prioritize high-quality programming
- co-view whenever possible
The updated framework recognizes what many families already know: screens are not disappearing from children’s lives. In fact, they’re becoming ubiquitous earlier in children’s lives. The goal is not to pretend they don’t exist. Guidance from pediatricians suggests we carefully curate how the environments surrounding them influence children’s development.
For my family, that realization started with a phone screen glowing in a hospital room. That moment reminds me that screens themselves are not inherently problematic. What matters is the environment we build around them.
In my next column, I’ll look at how this research is shaping debates over screen use in schools and what educators should consider as states begin regulating instructional technology. In the meantime, let me know what you think about screens in schools.
