The Influence of Technology on Moroccan Families
In nearly every Moroccan household, there exists a scene so familiar that it often goes unnoticed: a small child, no older than three or four years, holds a smartphone in their tiny hands, effortlessly swiping across the screen with a dexterity that seems innate. No one taught them this skill; they have simply learned it, much like we adults learn to walk or talk. This phenomenon has sparked an essential question that resonates across families from Casablanca to Oujda, and from Marrakech to Nador: Who is raising our children today? Is it their parents, the grandparents as it once was, or has the responsibility shifted to a small screen that never tires or complains?
Smartphones as Surrogates for Parenting
Many Moroccan mothers openly acknowledge, often in hushed tones and with evident embarrassment, that their smartphones have become the quick fix for calming a child during a shopping trip or for securing a few minutes of peace to complete a meal or business call. The smartphone does not tire, it does not refuse, nor does it demand anything in return. In the eyes of a weary father after a long day at work, and a mother juggling household and professional responsibilities, it seems to be the perfect companion. However, the issue lies not with the device itself—an object devoid of intent—but rather with the fact that, as parents, we have inadvertently assigned it a role for which it was never intended: the role of caregiver. A child who spends hours engrossed in short, ever-changing videos learns a specific rhythm of thought, a particular way of coping with boredom, and even a model for relationships and behavior, all without the guidance or correction of a parent, teacher, or mentor.
Our generation, the parents of today, was familiar with idleness. We experienced the boredom of school breaks, played in the neighborhood, and waited an entire week to catch a single episode of a cartoon on Thursdays. Although this boredom was often perceived as a nuisance at the time, it cultivated within us essential qualities: patience, imagination, and the ability to create play from nothing. In contrast, our children today do not know this sense of emptiness. The moment they feel bored, one of their hands instinctively reaches for a smartphone, and within seconds, that boredom vanishes. While this may seem convenient in the moment, it ultimately deprives the child of a vital opportunity: the chance to learn how to be alone with themselves and how to confront emptiness without escaping it.
One protective factor that historically supported us in Morocco, and still may offer some shield in certain areas, is the extended family structure. The grandmother who tells stories, the uncle who jokes, and the neighbors who watch over with care all contribute to the upbringing of children in subtle, unspoken ways. However, as this social network begins to fracture in large cities, compounded by everyone’s preoccupation with their phones, children often find themselves feeling isolated, even when surrounded by family. So what can be done to address these challenges?
The solution does not lie in a complete ban on smartphones, as that would be unrealistic and counterproductive in our current age. Rather, the answer is to seek a balance. We must establish screen time limits just as we allocate time for meals and sleep. It is important for us to sit with our children and occasionally watch alongside them—not merely to supervise but to understand what content they consume and why it captivates them. We should also allow boredom to reclaim its rightful place, permitting children to experience it without rushing to remedy the situation with a smartphone. Furthermore, we adults must recognize that our own eyes are often glued to screens far more than we realize, and children learn through imitation long before they learn through verbal instruction.
Ultimately, the question extends beyond who is raising our children; it challenges us to consider whether we are still the ones making that decision, or if we have relinquished it to algorithms that neither know our children nor care about their futures.
As reported by hespress.com.
