U.S. Schools Reconsider Classroom Screens as Reading, Math and Social Skills Slide
Across the United States, the classroom screens that became routine during the pandemic are now being looked at more critically.
Educators, parents and lawmakers are questioning whether constant device use is making it harder for students to learn and to develop the social skills they need. Reading and math scores have been slow to recover, and critics say screen-centered instruction can turn school into a more isolated and individualized experience.
In a Washington Post essay, Sarah Schneider Kavanagh of the University of Pennsylvania’s Graduate School of Education and Katie A. Danielson of the University of Portland’s School of Education argued that elementary school was never just about academic instruction. Children also need to learn how to listen to each other, handle disagreement, explain their ideas and work alongside classmates.
The two educators said adaptive software can make that kind of shared learning harder by limiting how often students hear their peers think through the same question. In a future shaped by artificial intelligence, they argued, those collaborative skills may carry even more weight because they draw on strengths that machines cannot replace.
The issue has moved quickly from classrooms to statehouses. By July, lawmakers in at least 17 states had introduced or considered bills related to classroom screens or devices, according to Fortune. In Los Angeles Unified, officials have already banned in-school screen use from preschool through first grade and imposed stricter limits on older students.
That pressure did not appear overnight. Computers were common in schools before COVID-19, and they became essential tools when campuses shut down. But after schools reopened, the heavy reliance on screens remained in place, even as remote learning receded.
That has unsettled parents, teachers and child development specialists who regard school as one of the few settings where children can regularly practice face-to-face conversation and sustained concentration. For many families, the issue is not only test scores. A screen-heavy classroom can mean fewer chances to form a strong classroom community and to practice patience, empathy and collaboration.
Neuroscientist Jared Cooney Horvath made a related point in written testimony to the U.S. Senate, saying that Gen Z is cognitively less capable than previous generations despite growing up with more technology than any prior cohort. He connected falling standardized test scores with the amount of time students spend using computers at school.
Some districts are responding with limits rather than outright bans. Los Angeles Unified is one example: its youngest students no longer use screens during the school day, while older students face narrower restrictions. The proposals moving through state legislatures reflect a larger question — when do devices genuinely improve instruction, and when do they replace experiences that software cannot replicate?
“Children don’t need school to become more like the digital world,” Kavanagh and Danielson wrote. “They are already immersed in that world for much of the time outside school hours. They need a place designed for other aims, such as conversation instead of consumption and collaboration instead of personalization. That isn’t resisting the future; it’s preparing children to be fully human in it.”
Similar questions are surfacing elsewhere in education. Reports of harm from AI in schools are reinforcing skepticism about more classroom technology. Some mandatory-device policies have made learning harder, frustrating students and teachers. And in New Bedford, schools have chosen geothermal wells and solar power as districts rethink where education dollars should go.
Across the country, the conversation is no longer about whether screens have a place in schools. It is about where they belong, how much time they should get, and what children may be losing in the trade-off.