As January resolutions to use technology more intentionally collide with the reality of family life, a Montreal parent and communications expert offers a counterintuitive perspective: keeping children away from screens is not a viable safety strategy.
The Flawed Promise of Tech "Safeguards"
Arron Neal, a writer and mother of two, shares her personal experience from the past year. Her preteen son received a phone for his summer birthday, and by the winter holidays, both he and his sister had social media accounts. To access certain platform features, they submitted to facial recognition software designed for age verification. The result was startling: the AI estimated they were nearly old enough to drink, despite being years away from legal age.
This incident highlights a critical flaw in the conversation about youth and technology, which often focuses on privacy tools and AI-based age checks. Neal points out that tools analyzing facial features like nose shape or eye distance frequently misclassify children. These safeguards, implemented through tech company self-regulation, are inherently flimsy. Government regulation, she notes, struggles to keep pace with innovation, often reacting only after harm has occurred.
"Child welfare is not in the mission for platforms like Instagram, TikTok, Discord and Roblox," Neal writes. "They are motivated by user engagement, monetization, and growth. They're not in it for the kids."
The Parental Dilemma in a Digital Age
This reality leaves parents in a difficult position. Surveys reflect widespread concern, including data from Common Sense Media, which found that 75 to 80 per cent of parents with children eight or younger worry about excessive screen time and its effects on mental health.
The common advice is to restrict access to protect health, development, and confidence—limiting cyberbullying and exposure to distressing content. However, Neal argues this theory doesn't match practice. News, rumours, and social drama travel swiftly through classrooms and playgrounds, regardless of a child's online status. During a Montreal winter, when outdoor time is limited, a blanket ban on tech is often unrealistic.
Building Judgment, Not Just Barriers
Neal proposes a different approach. In an information-saturated age where children often encounter news and trends first, parents must become the essential counterweight. The goal is not to create an impenetrable shield, but to build a child's ability to discern and make sound decisions.
"In our house, the kids have access to their tech, alongside regular discussions of what's fun, what's risky, what context matters, and when it's time to shut everything off," she explains.
She compares it to learning life skills like crossing a street or navigating public transit: judgment develops through guided experience. This perspective aligns with arguments made by Iman Goodarzi in the Gazette, noting that safety models relying solely on family enforcement are insufficient. While this doesn't absolve tech platforms or policymakers of responsibility, it empowers parents to act within a broken system.
For Neal, the distinction between access and intention became clear during the winter break. Her children played together on a new gaming console, using couch co-op features that allowed them to share a screen in the same room. This experience underscored that how technology is used—fostering shared, in-person interaction—matters as much as whether it is used at all.
The conclusion for parents navigating 2026 is clear: fostering open dialogue, critical thinking, and contextual understanding is a more sustainable and effective path than attempting an impossible digital quarantine.
