The Challenge of Parenting in the Age of Technology

In almost every Moroccan household, a familiar scene has emerged that, over time, has become so commonplace that we hardly notice it anymore: a small child, no older than three or four years, adeptly holding a smartphone and swiping their finger across the screen with a skill that requires no formal training. This child has not been taught this behavior by anyone; rather, they have learned it instinctively, much like we adults learn to walk or speak. This raises a significant question that resonates across families from Casablanca to Oujda and from Marrakech to Nador: who is truly raising our children today? Is it the parents, the grandparents as it used to be, or has the responsibility shifted to a small screen that tirelessly captures their attention?

The Smartphone as a Digital Nanny

Many Moroccan mothers candidly admit, often in hushed tones and with a noticeable sense of embarrassment, that smartphones have become a quick solution when their children cry in public or when they need a brief moment of peace to finish cooking or handle a work call. The smartphone does not tire, does not refuse, and does not demand anything in return; it is perceived as the ideal companion for a weary parent after a long day at work, as well as for a mother juggling household duties and professional responsibilities. However, the issue lies not with the device itself—after all, it is merely a tool devoid of intent—but with the reality that we, as parents, have unwittingly assigned it a role we never intended: that of a caregiver. A child who spends hours watching short, constantly changing videos learns a specific rhythm of thought, a particular way of coping with boredom, and even a model for relationships and behaviors, all without the guidance or correction of a parent, teacher, or mentor.

Today’s children are growing up in an environment devoid of the concept of boredom that characterized our own generation. We, the parents of today, have experienced what it means to be bored. We knew the frustration of waiting a week to watch a single episode of a cartoon on Thursday, and we learned to cultivate patience, imagination, and the ability to create play from nothing during those times. In stark contrast, our children do not understand this phenomenon. The moment they encounter boredom, their hands instinctively reach for a smartphone, and just like that, the dullness evaporates within seconds. While this may seem convenient in the moment, it ultimately deprives children of a fundamental opportunity: the chance to learn how to be alone with themselves and how to confront emptiness without fleeing from it.

One of the protective factors in Moroccan culture has traditionally been the extended family. The presence of a grandmother sharing stories, an uncle telling jokes, and caring neighbors has formed a genuine social fabric that participates in parenting without formally declaring it. However, in today's urban environments, where this network is increasingly fragmented and where everyone seems absorbed in their phones, children often find themselves isolated even when surrounded by family. As we ponder this situation, the question arises: what can we do to address these challenges?

The solution does not lie in an outright ban on smartphones, as that would be unrealistic and unproductive in our current times. Instead, we need to strive for a balance. We should establish designated screen time just as we allocate time for meals and sleep. It is essential to engage with our children by occasionally watching content together—not merely to monitor them but to understand what they consume and why it appeals to them. We must also allow boredom to reclaim its rightful place, permitting children to experience it without rushing to alleviate their discomfort with a device. Furthermore, we adults must acknowledge that our own eyes may be glued to screens more than we realize, and that children learn through imitation long before they learn through verbal instruction. Ultimately, the question is not merely about who is raising our children but whether we are still the ones making that decision, or if we have relinquished that responsibility to an algorithm that neither knows nor cares about their future.

As reported by hespress.com.