As a pediatric neuropsychologist—and a parent—I think a lot about how we talk about kids and screens.
If I’m honest, many of the expectations we place on children don’t even match adult behavior. I can fully understand the pull to check my phone, track my steps, read one more article about perimenopause, or fall into a comparison loop—and I have a fully developed prefrontal cortex.
So what are we expecting from kids whose brains are still under construction?
From a neuroscience perspective, this matters. The developing brain is highly sensitive to reward, novelty, and social feedback. Digital platforms are exceptionally good at activating dopaminergic reward pathways—especially in children and adolescents, whose regulatory systems are still maturing. In simple terms: the “go” systems are strong, and the “pause and reflect” systems are still coming online.
That doesn’t mean screens are inherently harmful. It means context matters.
In our home, we’ve chosen a structure that reduces default use:
– No screens during the week
– School-based Chromebook use (brief, and yes—professionally debatable)
– Family movies together
But the more important piece isn’t restriction—it’s how screens are used.
When screens are social and interactive, they recruit very different neural systems than passive consumption. Watching a show together and pausing to talk about it engages language networks, perspective-taking, and executive functioning. Co-playing a video game in the same room introduces shared attention, problem-solving, and emotional regulation.
This is consistent with what we know about brain development:
learning is amplified through interaction, not isolation.
There’s also a strong argument—both clinically and in emerging research—for protecting time for boredom.
Unstructured, device-free time allows the brain’s default mode network to activate. This network is associated with imagination, autobiographical thinking, and creativity. It’s also where kids practice generating ideas, resolving internal conflicts, and making sense of their world.
Yesterday was a good reminder of that.
I sent my kids outside. A group of five (ages 4–10) ended up creating an elaborate, slightly concerning “stalker” game—not exactly classic tag—but it involved storytelling, letter writing, negotiation, conflict, and resolution. It was messy, imaginative, and entirely self-directed.
Meanwhile, I was raking leaves—offline—and noticing how much was happening without any adult-designed structure.
No algorithm could have produced that level of cognitive and social complexity.
We don’t need to all adopt the same rules around screens. But we can be more intentional about what we’re supporting neurologically:
– More co-use, less isolation
– More conversation, less passive intake
– More boredom, less constant stimulation
Because at the end of the day, kids don’t just need limits.
They need environments that support how their brains are designed to grow.
And if we’re being honest, many of us could probably benefit from the same conditions.