I later learned that Sergio’s mother was very protective of him as a baby, never let him crawl. She would often warn him about falling. Interestingly, he did the same with my boys, afraid they would get hurt, for instance, when climbing the slides from bottom to top. I know Sergio’s mother had the best intentions to protect him. But while she may have kept him from same pain, she also prevented him from learning. Children learn by doing, and it starts from the very beginning: A five-months old’s attempts at sitting up invariably end with a fall to the side or landing on her face; laying on her tummy makes her upset that she cannot pull up further; at 10 months she falls on her bottom when trying to walk; etc. Letting children explore on their own – in a safe environment (stay tuned for a post about baby proofing) – is how we provide our children with learning opportunities.

Dr. Maria Montessori called these crucial times “The Sensitive Periods” of child development. These universal sensitive periods tend to occur around the same age, most intensely during the first six years of life, and they never repeat. They appear for a short time and will disappear whether or not a child’s developmental needs during that period are fulfilled and whether or not the development function has been successfully established. One of the sensitive periods observed by Dr. Montessori is the development of movement (others are related to order, language, sensory development, and social behavior). She states that

“movement is not only an expression of the ego but it is an indispensable factor in the development of consciousness, since it is the only real means which places the ego in a clearly defined relationship with external reality.”

(Montessori 1966: p. 98).

Sergio’s ability and confidence when engaging in age-appropriate physical activity as an 11-year old would be higher had he gotten the permission to explore as a very young child, to crawl, climb, and walk .. and, yes, sometimes get hurt as a result. The foundation was to be laid a decade earlier.

I wonder, who will they become as adults? What will their interactions at dinner tables look like in a few years when they have not learned to sit and interact? To me, eating is a fundamentally social event. At our house, we sit down as a family every day and share a meal together. The children talk about their day and so do we. During that time, we effectively practice taking turns when talking, asking politely to pass the dish, and saying thank you when done. It is a great way learn to interact with someone else, to wait for your turn, to ask for something, but most importantly to have quality time with the family. I hope that when my own children are adults, they can find other adults who are looking for that kind of experience and won’t be staring at their phones instead. Call me old-fashioned.

I think there are many reasons for restricting access to these gadgets, several of which are subject to ongoing scientific research focused on their negative social and psychological effects. If you remain skeptical, consider another reason: Observe children as they interact with these gadgets and take note of their posture: They mostly look down, straining their necks, slowing the natural blood flow to the brain and back. I would not be surprised if soon enough we will also see the physiological effects of sustained exposure to these devices.

I realize that these gadgets are here to say, that they constantly surround us, and that we need to learn to manage them. But we urgently need to figure out how to protect especially our youngest children from them. These devices are produced following a design technique that is bluntly but correctly called “addictive design”. While we may want to argue with our teenagers about their use and misuse of these devices, I believe that we need to protect our small children from exposure to them. What I instead often observe is that we – inadvertently – train them to make these devices part of their dinners, playgroups, and night routines. Think of all the beautiful things around them that they are missing.