Technology in schools might be doing more harm than good
Tommy Kruecker-Green
OPINIONS EDITOR
Technology is everywhere we look. It is inescapable. At AHS, it has become a reflex to open one’s laptop at the start of every class. “Submit your homework on Schoology,” “check your grades online,” “use Google Slides for group projects”—you get the point. Technology in schools has become so deeply embedded that we hardly question it anymore. We should.
More often than not, I feel that technology is a distraction to learning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m as dependent on my devices as anyone else. And I think that there are good reasons to use our devices in an educational setting. But I can’t help but wonder if we’re losing something in the process.
Lindsey L’Ecuyer, a science teacher here at AHS, told me something that stuck with me: students are starting to feel disconnected from their work when it’s done on the computer. “I have more students say that when they do something online, it feels like it’s not real or like it doesn’t count,” L’Ecuyer reflected. When she first said that, I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant. Upon further reflection, however, I realized that I know exactly the feeling. There’s something about typing that feels temporary, as though the newly acquired knowledge exists in a digital bubble that could disappear at any moment. Oh wait, that’s actually true—I close my browser, and boom, it’s gone. Schoology is down (isn’t it always?)—gone. It’s just not really there. When I handwrite notes, though, I feel a much stronger connection to the material. There’s a permanence and physicality to writing that makes it feel like the information is sinking in.
It’s not just about vague impressions and gut feelings that can’t really be qualified. There’s science to back it up. Multiple studies have shown that handwriting notes actually improves memory and understanding. One 2014 study, “The Pen Is Mightier Than the Keyboard,” found that, in their words, “students who took notes on laptops performed worse on conceptual questions than students who took notes longhand.” Why? Because handwriting is slower than typing. When you write by hand, you’re forced to process and summarize information as you go. With typing, you can easily fall into the trap of copying things down verbatim without actually thinking about them.
A lot of you may have already heard the argument that handwriting helps with memory retention. That’s one important point, but what I think may be more important is the effect that constant screen exposure is having on our attention spans—and our development. I see this play out every day in my own life and the lives of my classmates. We start with the intention of focusing on a lesson or finishing an assignment, but somehow, we end up down a rabbit hole of distractions—checking social media, clicking on New York Times alerts with the latest swing state polls or the most recent atrocity in the Middle East, watching YouTube videos of roller-skating hamsters, or even scrolling through online shops. Yes, I have seen students drooling over Air Jordans during class.
Screens are incredibly good at what they’re designed to do: capture our attention and keep it for as long as possible. A laptop that’s supposed to be a tool for learning can easily become a vehicle for procrastination. Even if I tell myself, “I’m just going to quickly check this one thing,” it’s never just that. Before I know it, 20 minutes have passed, and I’ve completely forgotten what I was working on. Moreover, according to Gloria Mark, a professor at UC-Irvine, it can take more than 20 minutes for the brain to get back into the focused mindset that it was in, prior to the email/social media/web browsing break. In a way, technology feels like it’s actively working against me, tempting me to veer off course. And as much as I hate to admit it, I know I’m not alone in this. I see my friends struggling with the same thing—starting off with good intentions but getting sidetracked by the endless allure of the internet.
This can be especially problematic for younger students. Imagine growing up in a classroom where the boundary between learning and entertainment is so thin it’s practically invisible. Kids who are just beginning to develop focus and study habits are being handed tools that can so easily pull them away from their work. It’s a slippery slope, and once you fall into the abyss of distraction, it can be incredibly hard to climb back out.
Consider this: Silicon Valley executives enroll their children in Waldorf schools where they bake pies, build shoe racks, and read books—anything to learn by doing and, importantly, to keep off the screens. These executives know how addictive and detrimental to learning and development screens can be. If Massachusetts public schools want to be progressive, they would do well to reconsider the role of technology in our classrooms.
