Why and How I’m Limiting Screen Time in My Classroom

During my 20 years in the high school classroom, I’ve found that while educational technology can enhance access to learning, it consistently falls short of the sweeping gains it promises—and I remain unconvinced that its potential benefits outweigh the drawbacks at scale.

That’s why I’m working to limit technology in my classroom.

My concerns echo the research and arguments in Jared Cooney Horvath’s new book, The Digital Delusion: How Classroom Technology Harms Our Kids’ Learning—and How to Help Them Thrive Again, one of the most affirming and influential works I’ve read in years. Drawing on extensive research, he shows that when students use technology to learn—especially without clear guidance—they may demonstrate progress with the tool in the moment, but engage less deeply and retain less over time, and struggle to transfer any gains to other environments.

When we connected, Horvath told me that research on educational technology hasn’t produced large learning goals overall, yet it continues to be aggressively pushed on educators. He offered an analogy to explain this puzzling reality.

“If I were a doctor and had the choice to prescribe you two pills, my job would be to get you well,” Horvath said. “I have one pill that I know works and another that no one has ever tested. Which one would you want? Oh, you want the one that works? Bad news—the one that works tastes bitter. It’s not great. The other one tastes like candy. Which one do you want now? Oh, you still want the one that works? That’s learning.”

With Horvath’s insights in mind, I’ve changed how I talk with my students about edtech, including AI.

Talk to Students About the Science of Learning

First, I make clear to students that deep learning, the kind that sticks, only happens through struggle.

“I am not telling you it’s going to be easy. I am telling you it’s going to be worth it.”

That sign, which adorns my classroom wall, reflects what I’m trying to protect from the lure of increasingly convenient shortcuts. Horvath affirmed my view, especially that students should not use tools to avoid cognitive work. I tell my students that I’m not anti-technology, but that real learning demands attention, effort, and productive struggle—a message I return to often when we discuss classroom technology.

“Go to the gym. Working out is not fun,” Horvath said. “Being done working out is a… blast. The hour you’re working out is just misery.”

Neither Horvath nor I want students to feel miserable in the classroom. Learning can be fun, even joyful, but enjoyment is not the primary goal. The goal is growth, which requires effort.

That idea pushed me to become more explicit with students about the cognitive science behind my classroom choices. Instead of simply telling them that technology is “bad,” I try to teach them how learning actually works.

“Once they understood why learning works the way it does, they would adopt good study strategies without me ever even having to say it,” Horvath explained.

With that in mind, I shared a recent Brookings study with my students stating that at this point, “the risks of utilizing generative AI in children’s education overshadow its benefits.”

We also discussed its more nuanced conclusions, including that “well-designed AI tools and platforms can offer students a number of learning benefits if deployed as part of an overall, pedagogically sound approach.”

This way of looking at generative AI helps my students see that my goal in limiting it isn’t punitive. Rather, I want students to rely on their own capable minds and avoid immediately running to edtech for help.

If You Use EdTech, do so Only for Review

These conversations naturally lead students to ask when and how I think about integrating AI into the classroom.

Building on this awareness, before having my students use edtech, I always ask myself, “Is this helping them perform a task they’ve already mastered, or is it bypassing the thinking they need to do to learn it?” If it’s the latter, I go analog through gallery walks, discussions of printed resources, or breakout seminars.

Consider the following procedures to ensure that technology supports, rather than replaces, student effort and thinking:

Prioritize face-to-face engagement. For example, I may ask students to close their devices and engage in breakout work. They may tackle discussion questions from a handout or answer questions during a gallery walk, where I post different primary and secondary sources on whiteboards around the classroom or hallway. This gets them up and moving—and, most important, talking to each other rather than focusing on their screens.

Use tech after mastery, not for introduction. To illustrate this practice in action, in my AP American Government and Politics course, after students finish a unit, I only use edtech for review. I ask them to test their knowledge using edtech that asks them to assess their confidence in their answers.

Be intentional about AI use for writing. If my students use AI during class time, they use it as an optional critique partner, not a substitute for their own thinking. My journalism students often use the Journalistic Learning Initiative’s AI coaches, such as “Murrow,” which is designed to move students toward their own ideas rather than producing content for them. Sometimes, my students also use Flint, our school-approved platform to provide feedback on written work; it’s free for up to 80 users. But this always requires more work on my part, as I monitor chat histories to ensure that the tool doesn’t do anything more than support their work—and offers accurate, helpful feedback. It’s a heavy lift.

I asked Horvath if I should adjust my approach.

His response reassured me: “No, I see no problem. Once kids know material, if you’re using it to rehash or recap, they’re now in a position whereby they should be able to vet the output.” With this in mind, Horvath says, “always work down with tech.”

By that, he means that teachers shouldn’t start learning with technology. After the requisite content and skills are established through proven pedagogical practices, technology can be integrated to help cement progress.

Change edtech use gradually, not abruptly

To reduce screen time in your classroom, try one class without screens and see what happens. Make one assignment public-facing so that students must understand it, not just complete it.

As Horvath put it, “If you had to pick one thing we are here to do at school, what is it? And if the answer is learning, then all decisions have to hinge on that.”

Ultimately, learning requires clarity about its purpose and the courage to align daily choices with what truly supports student growth. By focusing on evidence-based practices and using technology intentionally—if it is used at all—we can foster deeper, more lasting learning.

That’s what I’m doing, and I hope you follow suit.