Has Our Reliance on EdTech Ushered in an Illiterate Age?

Gone are the days of naively believing that screen time is a net positive for youth. Over the past 18 months, we have seen a sharp rise in legislative action banning smartphones during the school day and an abundance of conversations and research documenting the negative influences of social media on teen mental health. It should come as no surprise, then, that many are now questioning the amount of screen time students are receiving during the school day.

What began as “teaching digital literacy” has exploded into “1:1 programs,” where each student is issued a laptop or tablet often instead of pencils, paper, and textbooks. In 2018, veteran teachers and co-authors of Screen Schooled, Matt Miles and Joe Clement challenged this new norm writing, “Educators have become so consumed with how to incorporate more technology into the education of young people that they forgot to ask, Should we do this?” If Miles and Clement were the canaries in the coal mine, then Dr. Jared Cooney Horvath in his new book, The Digital Delusion: How Classroom Technology Harms Our Kids’ Learning—and How to Help Them Thrive Again is the siren and flashing light we would be unwise to ignore.

Horvath, a neuroscientist, educator, and author, begins The Digital Delusion with a basic overview of how brains learn and a focus on national and global data showing that as screen time in school increases, learning decreases. He is quick to point out that if a student needs to learn a skill that is specific to a computer (for example, using excel or learning to type), then this is a perfectly fine use of screen time, but when apps and platforms claiming to be “educational technology” (better known as EdTech) are used across disciplines, students’ cognitive ability will be harmed.

Learning, explains Horvath,

requires sustained focus, thrives on emotional connection, and succeeds when skills can transfer flexibly between contexts…. When we tether learning to screens, we risk raising a generation literate in apps, but illiterate in life.

As fast as technology is moving, the idea that a student needs to learn to use a specific app or web site as a basis for “21st-century skills” is laughable. Teaching students how to develop critical thinking skills and arming them with a base of actual knowledge is the foundation necessary to developing a well-informed, capable citizen.

EdTech companies have tried to undercut this by claiming high “student engagement” with their products. Horvath expertly attacks these claims, analyzing the flimsy data often cited to support EdTech’s lucrative business model. He digs deep into the research and shows that though students may gain some knowledge from EdTech, it is “almost always slower, shallower, and less durable” than what’s achieved through traditional teaching methods. Referencing almost 400 meta-analyses with a combination of over 21,000 studies, it’s shocking that so many schools and administrators have fallen victim to the false claims of EdTech salesmen.

Horvath doesn’t stop there. He attacks other myths that have been spread by EdTech companies, including that personalized or “adaptive” learning makes students more intelligent. In actuality, he writes:

Algorithms can identify wrong answers, but they can’t sense confusion, interpret tone, or tell the difference between deep understanding and lucky guessing. Human teachers do this every day.

As Artificial Intelligence pushes more and more into the classroom, this point can’t be made enough. Horvath devotes two entire chapters to the problems surrounding AI, referencing it as “the tool nobody asked for, solving problems nobody had.” He draws heavily from Neil Postman’s Technopoly at this point, relying less on data and more on a philosophy of education claiming that if we make the same missteps with AI that we made with EdTech, the damage may be “irreparable.” If you are a student of Postman’s work, these chapters will really resonate with you. 

Teaching students how to develop critical thinking skills and arming them with a base of actual knowledge is the foundation necessary to developing a well-informed, capable citizen.

Horvath allows readers who are more interested in practical application to head straight for the last third of the book, where he offers sections specific to parents, teachers, administrators, and school leaders. Imbedded in the book are pages of sample letters, charts, policies, and forms that the motivated reader will find helpful.

Overall, I found The Digital Delusion to be highly engaging, loaded with research, and extremely practical, though there were a few missteps along the way. The prologue makes the claim that, “at the societal level, we’re facing challenges far more complex and far-reaching than any in human history.” As a novice student of history, I think this statement is rather dramatic and unnecessary. It is fine to say we have problems that need to be solved without claiming that our problems are bigger than anyone else’s. We should be concerned about raising a generation of youth who are suffering from a decline in educational rigor, but let’s not forget that formal schooling for all youth, especially girls and those from low-income families, is a bit of a modern phenomenon.

Additionally, Horvath cites “overpopulation” as a societal challenge we need to be concerned with. Not only is this claim not supported by current data, but it has nothing to do with his thesis and, along with similar asides, it tells us more about his politics. As an advocate in this field for almost a decade, I can attest that the issues he writes about are bipartisan,¹ so I wish he hadn’t muddied the waters.

Horvath clearly views schools as the stabilizing force in society. He puts forward the idea that schools are not broken in need of a digital savior (as claimed by EdTech), but rather that schools are functioning, yet in need of a re-set. If Horvath is correct that the problem is EdTech (and I believe, by and large, he is), there is still a lack of clarity on how we repair the damage. 

Horvath lays out an excellent plan for how to slow down the use of EdTech, but fails to address many lingering concerns such as how to train younger, less experienced teachers on traditional teaching methods (many of which they may not have even observed as students themselves), how to roll back state-mandated online testing, and alternatives to the now digital-only SAT testing. Most pressing—what can be done for students who have already suffered through the damage of 1:1 programs? In fairness, all of that could be an entirely new book.

Finally, Horvath puts his worldview on full display writing, “schools must reclaim their primary role—not as content providers, but as meaning-makers.” Anyone who holds religious convictions or a strong view of the family will bristle at this, which left me unsurprised that Horvath also never offered homeschooling or the Classical model of education as viable alternatives for families.

Even so, given the attention on screen time and childhood, The Digital Delusion is well timed to make some much needed waves. If you are a teacher, administrator, or parent of school-aged children, I would wholeheartedly encourage you to pick up this book. Just don’t be surprised if your next step is rolling-up your shirt sleeves; young people are going to need our help.

Emily Harrison is a writer, advocate, and speaker on digital media and family. She is a Fellow with the Colson Center for Christian Worldview, Ambassador for the Phone Free Schools Movement, and ScreenStrong, and a member of Fairplay’s Screen Time Action Network. She blogs weekly at DearChristianParent.Substack.com.

*Photo credit: Shutterstock

1.  I am a long standing member of FairPlay’s Screens in Schools workgroup where I have the privilege of advocating with a wide host of passionate leaders in this field. As far back as 2017, I had become a fierce advocate for my own children as it relates to reducing in-school screen time by refusing online testing, requesting physical (not digital) books, and revoking my consent for a host of online platforms used in the classroom.