The Tangled Web We've Woven
Grappling with smartphones, childhood, and their bitter convergence
In 1993, the World Wide Web as we know it was born when its source code was released into the public domain. For a few years, software consultant Tim Berners-Lee and others had been developing a way for computers connected to the internet to pass information back and forth to one another freely and with ease. The idea to release the source code royalty-free rather than commercialize it was perhaps surprising, but also important to Berners-Lee. His guiding principle was that the web should connect everyone to freely share knowledge. Additionally, for his concept to work, there needed to be a single united web.
"If I'd gone down that route [of charging], then there would have been lots of other people setting up different ones, incompatible ones," he explained in a 2016 interview. "The web would have fractured into a whole lot of small ones. Small webs don't work."
"He thought that if the whole world was building the Web together, no one company could take control of it," further explained Mark Fischetti, senior editor at Scientific American and co-author of Weaving the Web: The Original Design and Ultimate Destiny of the World Wide Web with Berners-Lee. Keeping it free also kept corporations and universities from creating their own networks to compete with the World Wide Web.
"This is very important," Berners-Lee told Network World in 1995, "and the continued growth of the Web depends on a continual spirit of openness to work together."
Having a singular World Wide Web is also what makes it so powerful. As TIME magazine pointed out, its creation brought "order and clarity to the chaos that was cyberspace … [as] the Web and the Internet grew as one." Naturally though, for others, the competitive potential to make a lot of money was also a driving force in its expansion. This was demonstrated early on by the browser wars (remember Internet Explorer versus Netscape?) and the fight for users among online service providers (how about those direct mail free trial disks from AOL?)
By 1995, according to Pew Research Center polls, only about 14 percent of U.S. adults had internet access while 42 percent of the population said they had never even heard of it. Still, it was growing exponentially and was already transforming the world.
"The concept is so mind-boggling, the possibilities so vast, that contemplating it gives me a headache," wrote Dave Richards in the Erie Times-News at the time. "Via Internet, you can access — virtually instantly — the databases of millions of computers worldwide."
Almost immediately, too, there were fears that all of this could all be downright addicting. Dr. Kimberly S. Young, a psychology professor at the University of Pittsburgh at Bradford, was a pioneer in this field. She took interest in it in 1994 when a friend told her that her marriage was on the verge of collapse over her husband's obsession with it. Young conducted a study involving 400 internet users who averaged over five hours online per day. She published her findings in peer-reviewed journals. She began giving interviews. There was plenty of pushback too. Some felt such an addiction wasn't possible, at least not in the traditional use of the word. Other skeptics called it "Orwellian hysteria." Confident that her findings were valid though, she soon founded the Center for Internet Addiction.
"It's not like 10 hours online is okay and 11 are bad," she told Cincinnati Magazine. "It's the behavior. The loss of control, the building dependence. It's when people start describing their use as 'I crave it' and 'I am depressed without it' that signals a problem."
In her bestselling 1998 book Caught in the Net, Young profiled a young professional named Robin who was constantly staying up late into the night talking with people in America Online chat rooms. Chat rooms, the "social media" of the early internet, were pretty astonishing to those who'd previously only known snail mail and expensive long distance phone calls. What started as a "pleasant diversion" for Robin soon led to obsession and exhaustion. She couldn't stop. She had trouble waking up for work and she lost the "bursts of creativity that once flowed easily."
In 1997, Computerworld asked Young why such addictions happen. "Fantasy games and chat rooms are exciting. Beats real life," she stated matter-of-factly. Like many addictions, Young continued, it was pleasure-seeking behavior and an escape mechanism. To those not addicted, it likely seemed baffling, but it's real, she explained, although not exactly like drug and alcohol addiction. It's more comparable to pathological gambling or other impulse control disorders.
Robin, like others profiled in the book, didn't mean to spend so much time online. Young described this as entering a "terminal time warp," where what seems like 15 minutes online can actually be hours. She likened the World Wide Web to a self-guided book without an ending.
Still, during those years, it was at least an endless book that one could walk away from. The smartphone would soon change that.
An Endless Book in Our Pockets
It wasn't long ago that the internet was a fixed, shared place in our households, a physical destination in the family living room or office accessed with a bulky screen and computer tower. Today, these endless books reside in our pockets and purses.
It's a tool most of us rely upon constantly. Frankly, it's made much of our lives significantly easier and more streamlined. Answers to most questions can be found within seconds. News can be read on apps or in browsers. Long gone are the days of physical maps and printed directions. Most parents have more photographs of their children in one year than they have of their entire childhoods. You can do your banking, order food, pay for parking, watch the Doppler, schedule hair appointments, keep up with friends and family on social media or text threads, connect with communities and fandoms, and watch or listen to pretty much whatever you want at any time.
I'm not sure that anything could have really prepared us for this (or the algorithms that now guide us in finding the next thing in our endless book). Just as the early browsers and online service providers fought for our attention, app developers are working feverishly to find new ways to keep us engaged. For those susceptible to internet addiction, it's created previously unimaginable challenges. It's all so new and has happened so fast, we don't really know the implications of this.
Much of the emphasis has understandably been on the effects it has on children. Ask a parent and you'll likely find strong opinions and little consensus. In school districts across the country, school boards, administrators, and teachers are still figuring out what in the world to do about them. In recent years, outright bans are making headlines again. Other school districts allow students to use them in the hallways and lunchrooms. Some provide sealed pouches or hanging classroom cubbies.
The Millcreek School District recently made headlines with their policy revision. Previously, their policy read that electronic devices could be used before and after school, in the cafeteria, in the hallways between classes, and on the bus. In May though, the school board voted five to four to eliminate all use of cell phones from the first to last bell. Cell phones must remain in students' lockers. No hallways. No lunchrooms. No trips to the restroom to catch up on all of those missed notifications.
Some see such bans as common sense. It'll reduce classroom distractions and disruptions, not to mention there are countless studies on the negative effects of smartphones (and specifically social media) on mental health. The recent New York Times bestselling book The Anxious Generation by social psychologist Jonathan Haidt calls the childhood dependency on these gadgets as a "great rewiring" that has created a "public health emergency" for developing brains. For seven or so hours a day at school, these students will no longer be prisoners of their devices. Isn't that a gift?
Many feel otherwise. Smartphones and social media are simply new ways to socialize and interact with the world, neither good nor bad in and of themselves. They view these bans as reactionary and unenforceable (just ask a teenager how many peers carry vapes around school all day). Furthermore, some argue, should we not be preparing students to self-manage and use them responsibly? Numerous local parents outright said on social media that they will tell their children to defy Millcreek's new policy.
Let's be real though: it's not just the kids. Over half of adult Americans openly admit to their phone addictions. And with the financial incentives of how the online world functions today — it's essentially a giant advertising machine — breaking away from our phones is more difficult than ever. Massive corporations today, as Berners-Lee always feared, have disproportionate control over the web and, for many of them, they've found effective ways to exploit the addictive nature of their products. These companies need us to check in with their apps as frequently as possible to generate revenue, so they send us push notifications and sounds and vibrations and create meaningless rewards and badges and streaks and leveling up systems and mini-games to entice us back.
So, how does one even begin to pinpoint if they're too dependent on their device? Dr. Young developed an Internet Addiction Diagnostic Questionnaire. If adapted specifically for smartphones, one would ask the following questions: Do you feel preoccupied by your phone? Have you repeatedly made unsuccessful efforts to control, cut back, or stop phone use? Do you feel restless, moody, depressed, or irritable without it? Do you stay on your phone longer than intended? Do you use your phone as a way of escaping problems? Do you neglect routine duties and life responsibilities for your phone?
According to a 2024 poll by Pew Research Center, 72 percent teens say they feel more peaceful without their phones and nearly 50 percent admit simply having them increases their anxiety. Even knowing this, they're difficult to put down. A recent Gallup poll found that teenagers spend on average nearly five hours per day on social media. In a study by Common Sense Media, they discovered that teenagers were receiving on average nearly 250 notifications daily. Fortunately, many teenagers are self-aware. "The good news is, many young people reported they have grown savvier about their phone's attempts to draw them in, and they're taking steps to protect their digital well-being, like setting time limits and prioritizing certain types of notifications," the report adds. Still, they conclude, "it's clear that teens are struggling to set boundaries."
Adults are struggling too. After all, they don't have parents watching over them.
A Tangled Web
Let me be clear: I have opinions, sure, but I don't have any concrete answers. Maybe this is all on my mind because my oldest son is entering middle school next year. He hasn't asked for a cell phone yet, but as more and more of his friends get them, I expect the question is coming. A few months ago, I informally surveyed a class of high schoolers on if they thought we should get him one next year. I'm not exaggerating: every single student said no. While far from scientific, there has to be something to that. I wasn't too surprised either. More than a few teenage students have told me in recent years that they are nostalgic for their pre-phone lives.
Speaking of nostalgia, I think a lot about what school was like for me. I'm young enough to remember a few kids who had cell phones, but old enough that the vast majority of us didn't. What did I do with my downtime in school? I definitely read. I socialized. I daydreamed. I doodled. I wrote. I'm sure I took some naps and goofed around. I'd get bored. I'm a firm believer that a healthy amount of boredom is perfectly fine. Free and unstructured time is good for developing brains.
I'm as guilty as anyone in all of this though. As an adult, I find myself less present in the moment than I used to be due to my phone. I use my iPhone's screen time tracker to keep myself accountable. It's helpful to have concrete data as evidence that the "terminal time warp" is no joke.
As for my kids, my colleague recently invited me to a popular Facebook group called "Wait Until 8th." They advise parents to wait until eighth grade to buy children smartphones and, if anything, sticking to smartwatches and flip phones until then. "When you say yes too early to the smartphone, your kid's childhood will look different," the group argues on their website. "Let's give kids more time playing outside, exploring, reading, creating, and hanging out with friends in person."
I can't say that I disagree, but you'll find criticism of this group, too. "The 'Wait Until 8th Grade Pledge' is impractical," counters a writer who studied early childhood development. Cell phones aren't the problem, she says, it's bad habits and a lack of monitoring by parents. "It can mean your child is years behind peers in knowing how to handle themselves online," she writes. "You know your kids better than anyone. Talk with them. Set boundaries. Give explicit expectations. Have consequences if they do not follow your rules."
I mean, she's not wrong either.
Maybe this all happened so fast that we're all just making it up as we go. As with everything in life, perhaps all we can do is try to find a balance. It is important to be internet savvy, to have online literacy skills, to be able to navigate social media responsibly, but it's also important to nurture our willpower to detach and avoid dependency. For parents, it's also important to model behaviors responsibly and remember that every child is different.
Again, I don't pretend to have the answers. I do think many teenagers will find relief in being away from their phones during the school day. I also think, like Tim Berners-Lee suggested in the early days of the web, there should be a continual spirit of openness to work together to solve these problems.
"All he wanted to do was share charts and graphs with other scientists," PC Mag wrote of Berners-Lee in 1998. "We can only imagine how much bigger his simple little idea will become in the years ahead." I think it's fair to say that his simple little idea grew quite a bit — and we're still trying to figure it all out.
Jonathan Burdick runs the public history project Rust & Dirt. He can be reached at jburdick@eriereader.com