For 4 years, I've run seminars for homeschool parents about this exact subject; I'll be in SoCal in 2 weeks at the CHEA convention. My presentation mirrors Brian Montgomery's recommendations exactly. This is the the low hanging fruit of kids' Internet safety:
* Move computers to public places
* All devices with M&D at night
* Password protect your WiFi
* Passwords on your devices
* Limited/no data plans for phones
* Airgap all laptops (no network access at all)
* Setup non-admin accounts on PCs
* Install filter software
Smartphones:
<14: no smartphone
14-16: no phone or at least no data plan (RedPocket, Tello, Ultra all have these)
16+: limited data plan (same providers offer <200MB/mo plans)
Social media:
<16: social media blocked at filter software
16+: Lurking only. No profile or at least no posting.
In a sane society, parents would have legal and political support to help keep their kids safe. Alas, the ghost of John Stuart Mill prevents that in America, so we're forced to roll their own solutions. But there are solutions. Please take this seriously.
I'll never buy my kids a smartphone or tablet, not even when my son starts driving in 2 years. Walking around with the internet in your pocket has been an utter and complete failure for childhood. Parents need to say no more.
Thank you for this sobering and necessary piece. Walker’s story is heartbreaking in its clarity—it dismantles the comforting illusion that strong families and good intentions are enough. And you’re right: the response I see most often is a quiet, defeated “What can we do? It’s too late.” That despair is understandable. But it isn’t true.
What we need is not just better filters or firmer rules, but a re-enchanted vision of what it means to be human—an incarnational one. The crisis of screens is not just technological; it’s theological. We’ve forgotten that presence is sacred, that the body is not an accessory but a temple, that silence and attention are how we encounter God and one another. Incarnational mysticism, which I explore in Desert and Fire, invites us to see again… to reclaim the holiness of the physical world, the dignity of real conversation, the slow miracle of being.
There are no quick fixes. But we can begin, I think—by drawing phones out of bedrooms, yes, but also by rebuilding our homes as places of wonder and formation, where truth is told tenderly, and love takes the shape of protection. What you’ve said here is the beginning of that resistance. And for many, it may be the beginning of hope.
For 4 years, I've run seminars for homeschool parents about this exact subject; I'll be in SoCal in 2 weeks at the CHEA convention. My presentation mirrors Brian Montgomery's recommendations exactly. This is the the low hanging fruit of kids' Internet safety:
* Move computers to public places
* All devices with M&D at night
* Password protect your WiFi
* Passwords on your devices
* Limited/no data plans for phones
* Airgap all laptops (no network access at all)
* Setup non-admin accounts on PCs
* Install filter software
Smartphones:
<14: no smartphone
14-16: no phone or at least no data plan (RedPocket, Tello, Ultra all have these)
16+: limited data plan (same providers offer <200MB/mo plans)
Social media:
<16: social media blocked at filter software
16+: Lurking only. No profile or at least no posting.
In a sane society, parents would have legal and political support to help keep their kids safe. Alas, the ghost of John Stuart Mill prevents that in America, so we're forced to roll their own solutions. But there are solutions. Please take this seriously.
I'll never buy my kids a smartphone or tablet, not even when my son starts driving in 2 years. Walking around with the internet in your pocket has been an utter and complete failure for childhood. Parents need to say no more.
Well said Emily. I completely agree.
Thank you for this sobering and necessary piece. Walker’s story is heartbreaking in its clarity—it dismantles the comforting illusion that strong families and good intentions are enough. And you’re right: the response I see most often is a quiet, defeated “What can we do? It’s too late.” That despair is understandable. But it isn’t true.
What we need is not just better filters or firmer rules, but a re-enchanted vision of what it means to be human—an incarnational one. The crisis of screens is not just technological; it’s theological. We’ve forgotten that presence is sacred, that the body is not an accessory but a temple, that silence and attention are how we encounter God and one another. Incarnational mysticism, which I explore in Desert and Fire, invites us to see again… to reclaim the holiness of the physical world, the dignity of real conversation, the slow miracle of being.
There are no quick fixes. But we can begin, I think—by drawing phones out of bedrooms, yes, but also by rebuilding our homes as places of wonder and formation, where truth is told tenderly, and love takes the shape of protection. What you’ve said here is the beginning of that resistance. And for many, it may be the beginning of hope.