CAN WE TALK ABOUT SMARTPHONES, ADOLESCENTS AND THE LIMITS OF BLANKET BANS?

BY SAMAYA P.

I’ve been teaching secondary English in Greater London for over a decade, and throughout that time, one thing has remained constant - the lives of young people are shaped just as much outside the classroom as they are within it. Their social worlds, mental health, identity and even sense of safety is increasingly entangled with digital life. As someone who has also worked in pastoral care and advocated for mental health support in schools, I’ve long been concerned about how we help young people navigate this digital world safely and confidently, especially those who may already be marginalised or vulnerable.

The recent release of the Netflix series Adolescents has brought these concerns into public conversation. It’s not just educators talking about smartphones anymore it’s parents, policymakers and young people themselves. And that’s a good thing. But I also worry are we framing the conversation in a way that reflects the real diversity of young people’s lives?

A growing number of voices are now calling for a ban on smartphones for under 16s. After watching Adolescents, I can understand the concern. It’s a raw, unfiltered look at the darker side of online life. But as with many policy debates that affect children and young people, we need to ask - who are we designing these policies for and who might we be leaving behind?

That’s why I want to talk about more than just whether smartphones should be banned for under 16s. I want to explore what such policies mean for children with different needs, families with different pressures and communities facing unequal access to support. It’s a conversation we must have, not just with urgency, but with nuance and equity at the heart.

Let’s start with age. Maturity is not something that arrives neatly on someone’s 16th birthday. Many young people, particularly those with spectrum conditions, learning differences or mental health challenges, may be chronologically older but developmentally younger. Others, especially those with lived experience of trauma, may be navigating adult responsibilities long before their peers. Current digital policy doesn’t account for this. We need frameworks that understand age not as a fixed number, but as a spectrum shaped by lived experience, neurodiversity and context.

Then there’s parenting. In some families, particularly where trust is still being rebuilt after domestic conflict, mental health issues or separation, a smartphone is a bridge between parent and child. For working-class families juggling shift work or precarious employment, it’s a crucial tool for logistics, safety and reassurance. A universal ban may unintentionally penalise those families already navigating instability and risks further entrenching inequality in how we perceive “good parenting”.

The same can be said for class. Not all young people have equal access to safe community spaces, extracurricular activities or even emotional support at home. For many, especially those from low-income households, online spaces offer a sense of belonging, identity and aspiration. For LGBTQ+ youth, young carers or those in foster care, the internet can be a lifeline to communities that affirm and reflect who they are. A blanket approach to smartphone use that assumes a one-size-fits-all model risks ignoring the structural barriers that shape how different young people engage with technology.

We saw this tension clearly in Swiped, the Channel 4 documentary in which teenagers gave up their phones for 21 days. Many flourished, improved focus, better sleep, richer friendships. But others reported acute anxiety, loneliness and a sense of erasure from their peer groups. It wasn’t the phone that was the issue, it was the social structures built around its absence or presence.

That’s not to say the current situation is working. Many of us in schools feel like we’re firefighting, attention spans dwindling, face-to-face conflict increasing, digital pressures rising. Phones are doing a lot of the socialisation we once fostered in person and we’re all scrambling to catch up.

But let’s be clear this is not just about devices. It’s about values, access, and how we prepare all young people to thrive. Simply banning smartphones for a certain age group won’t address the deeper questions of digital literacy, inequality and belonging.

We need a smarter, fairer approach one that centres inclusion, flexibility and compassion. Here’s where the government could start:

• Provide clear, inclusive national guidance on screen use that accounts for developmental age, not just chronological age.

• Invest in targeted support for neurodiverse and disabled students, including adaptive digital literacy programmes.

• Offer parenting resources that reflect a range of family structures, socioeconomic realities and communication needs.

• Fund schools and youth services equitably, so that all young people can learn to navigate digital life with critical thinking - not fear.

The debate around smartphones isn’t really about control, it’s about equity. It’s about recognising that the digital world mirrors our offline inequalities and that meaningful education must acknowledge the different starting points our young people come from.

This is not a challenge schools can tackle alone. But if we’re serious about safeguarding—and about building a more inclusive society we must move beyond bans and start creating policies rooted in justice, not just convenience.