I overheard my son telling his friend, “I am undoubtedly smart… we are the children of smartphones.” I paused in deep thought. Our children have come to believe their intelligence is tied to smartphones, unaware that the term “smart” is born of technological advancement, not of their own minds. Their so-called “smartness” does not stem from the device itself. My dear child, this only shows that you are being led, not creative. Where is your own mind?
Let us reflect on what is happening to our children in this age of smart devices. We cannot deny that their communication with us has diminished. Even in conversation, their focus is split—one eye on us, the other glued to the screen. When a mother calls her child, he does not hear until the fifth thunderous cry. Our children have abandoned their books, though they sit right before them, drawn irresistibly to the devices that have stolen their attention and, in many ways, their minds.
Some people see children swiping through devices, listening to content, and conclude: “They are smart! Their minds are creative, because they can handle advanced technology.” But why do we not see this supposed intelligence in their studies? Or in attentive listening? Or in useful discussions with others? True creativity appears in ideas sparked by focus and imagination. Instead, what we often see are gestures of foolishness—etched so clearly on their faces they could be mistaken for works of art painted by a master.
This is the reality. Ask your child a question, and you see him staring silently—either at you or at the glowing screen. You might think he is pondering the answer, but in truth, he is merely captured by the device. So immersed, he barely hears or understands the question. This, my friends, is the truth: a lost generation, unaware, enslaved, being led without resistance. Let us awaken before intervention becomes useless.
These devices are consuming their time, their focus, their presence, their bonds with family. They erode knowledge, character, and even joy itself. Tragically, our little children are, in fact, already old souls. Modern devices chip away at their health: weakening hearing, sight, nerves, even bending their spines. They drain their intellectual and creative capacities, turning them into captives of habits they neither chose nor control. These habits grow with them, until they become what I call a “cell of habit… a prison for life.”
And if we reflect further, we see that these devices have also stolen from the adults—time, thought, even tongues once devoted to remembrance of God. Some have even neglected family ties, claiming they “have no time,” when in reality the device consumes their hours, their days, their lives.
So let us look at our children with compassion, and think of ways to rescue them from this maze. Let us not allow them to grow up in captivity to their screens. That would be the true loss—the loss of values, behavior, and ethics, all on a path to disappearance.
Let us exchange ideas and find solutions, hoping that we may guide them back before it is too late.
