Let's talk about the tech decisions parents face every day

By Zara Rahman. Originally published on the SUPERR blog.

In June, the UK announced a social media ban for Under 16s, and since then, various UK-based parents groups that I’m part of have been celebrating – it's in large part due to parents organizing that the ban has come to fruition. Their main messages were compelling: that thanks to smartphones, children were "one click from harm," or would find it "harder to focus on and learn." 

In other groups and spaces I'm part of, though, the ban is controversial. A number of child safety organizations came together to speak up against a ban; other digital rights groups have described the ways in which a social media ban falls short. Indeed, at SUPERRR Lab, where I work, my colleagues have also provided our take on the issue.

But here's what I think we're all missing. Parenting in the 21st century is exhausting and time-consuming. As I explain in my book, "It's about Time: Motherhood’s Most Precious and Contested Resource", mothers (and primary parents more generally) are being held to unreasonable standards, with more demands on their time than ever before. Work more, spend more time with your children, take time to look after yourself, show up for your friends, and don't forget about sleep – it’s impossible to fit that into a regular 24 hours.

In my book, I didn't even get into the ways in which technology makes that all harder, but here's an example. A few weeks ago, my oldest child started school. The school asked us to download two mandatory apps: one for getting updates from the teacher, the other to deal with all things administrative. 

Once I downloaded ClassDojo, the teacher-updates app, I was met with a pop up window: Subscribe now! Only £6.99 per month or £44.99 per year. I clicked on the (barely visible) cross, then another popped up: 

"Subscribe to 'Class Dojo Plus': give your child every advantage."

Everything about this is incredibly problematic. No, I don't want to give my child an advantage over their peers: that's not how society thrives. And in no way, shape or form, does paying for the premium version of a mandatory app, set my child up for success (much less at the cost of their peers). 

At SUPERRR, we’ve been working on the topic of digital fairness and consumer protection for a while now, so I recognized this almost instantly as a dark pattern – an example of deceptive design, trying to emotionally pressure me into making a monetary decision that was not in my best interests. 

Worse though, is the way in which this app fits into the social landscape. Mandated by the school, it comes at the point of sign up when starting a new school: a time when parents are facing decision fatigue on so many levels. There's new shoes to get; a uniform; a book bag; meals to choose; new routines to get used to. It's a big transition in the life of the whole family. 

For parents who are short on time, who don't have experience in navigating dark patterns, or who are navigating all of this in a foreign language, it's not hard to imagine that they would interpret that first pop-up window encouraging purchasing the "Plus" version as an important message from the school, and sign up accordingly. If this were a situation my parents had been faced with when I was growing up, I know they would've paid for the app without a second thought: they, immigrants from Bangladesh, operating in a language that was not their own, wanted to give me every chance of success, and didn't want to be seen as being frugal in comparison to white families. 

Parents – particularly those who are already marginalized or facing disadvantages on a societal level – are faced with countless decisions every day about technology and their children that they are absolutely not well-equipped to deal with. Nobody has the answer; it's context specific, it's child specific, and it's really scary to have to figure that out alone. Within the US context, researcher Amanda Lenhart calls this the "Technology Parenting Cycle" – a "repeating pattern of deciding on, setting up, and managing devices and digital services as children grow and technologies evolve."

As she and her team note, and as I've observed myself, having to navigate how technology is being integrated into family life is a huge cognitive and emotional burden, and one that takes a lot of time and labor. 

So while the feminist digital rights side of me does have issues with the social media ban in its current form, the feminist parent side of me has absolute empathy and understanding for parents who are calling for it. The social media ban –  although it only addresses a limited number of platforms that your child might interact with –   purportedly offers a silver bullet, an easy way out of at least some of the decisions they have to make every day about their child’s screentime and their family's general approach to technology.

On the surface, it saves parents time when time is scarce. The nuances of the ban itself, and the reasons behind opposition to it, are far more complex –  and again, would take a considerable amount of time to get familiar with.  

It's unrealistic of us in formalized civil society to expect parents to keep up with those nuances, and it’s unfair to judge parents for calling for a solution that in so many ways, is presented as a silver bullet. Instead, it's on us to build bridges to those groups, to take the time to understand their perspectives, the motivations behind them calling for the ban, and the bigger context in which they're operating, as a key part of our advocacy and understanding on this topic. If you're thinking about similar questions, email me at zara[at]superrr.net.

This Week's Links