I started teaching at my current school about 15 years ago. It was the school's first year fully implementing its new technology plan. Each student would receive a MacBook, and we were to use them in every class period.

Every teacher training I went to for years was about how to better integrate technology. As a young man who didn’t have regular access to a computer until college, I found this plan almost unbelievable and extremely generous. These kids, even the poor ones like me, would grow up with skills and opportunities I never experienced.

Fast forward 15 years, and I’m trying to convince the principal that we need less technology in the classroom. The kids are dependent on the computers.

Every year, I have more students who can’t read their own handwriting. I don’t mean they were writing quickly and couldn’t understand a word they scribbled. I mean, their baseline handwriting is so poor they can’t understand most of what they write.

I have students who cannot think critically. When they are asked a question, their default is to use AI to answer it. The most extreme case of this is when I asked a student to describe themselves, and they attempted to ask AI.

Class discussion has dwindled to monosyllabic responses or regurgitated AI dribble.

It is so dystopian and so obvious to me, yet the district pushes forward with its AI commands.

I’m one guy. What do I know? Experts are working on this stuff. They have information to which I am not privy.

Luckily, Dr. Jared Cooney Horvath doesn’t have my mindset. He did the research, and in his book The Digital Delusion: How Classroom Technology Harms Our Kids’ Learning — And How To Help Them Thrive Again, Horvath exposes the truth.

Standards

“Our children are less cognitively capable than we were at their age” (Horvath xv).

This is something many of us have complained about after a long day of teaching. My peers and I are always reminded that we were the exceptions as children. “Normal” people don’t grow up to be teachers. We cannot compare ourselves to the modern-day student.

I don’t remember being especially unique as a child. However, I always try to keep this in mind. Combined with my awareness that I can easily slip into the “old man screaming at the sky” trap, I try to accept I may be missing a key factor.

Perhaps my expectations are too high. I never lower those expectations, but I try to be understanding to those who don’t reach them. However, it wasn’t this bad fifteen years ago, was it? Did I lack the experience to see it? Am I blinded by nostalgia?

I’ve noticed that even though I did not lower my standards, my school district did. A 69 was the highest failing grade when I started teaching. A 59 is now the highest failing grade.

Teachers were also told that no student can score lower than a 51 for a quarter. Furthermore, if a student made a 58 or higher, we should pass them anyway because what is a point or two?

Do you think students received extra motivation to push and learn the material?

Of course not. They learned how to do the bare minimum to pass the class. I’ve had so many students fail my class with a 59 despite having the option to do extra credit at any point during the year. They expect me to give them the point.

On the first day of school and throughout the year, I warn them of this very scenario. I tell them that I will not give them the point. The principal can give them the point, but they are not going to get it from me.

In the school's defense, I’ve occasionally had to argue why a student failed my class, but they rarely go behind my back and pass the student, and they never force me to make changes.

As far as I can tell, lowering the bar shows two things: the school cares more about looking good than actually educating children, and maybe even more importantly, they can see there is a decline, and they are attempting to obfuscate it.

Turn off the screens

Principals randomly come into my room to grade my performance. I know many teachers put on a show or adjust their lesson during these moments. That isn’t me. I have a plan and a ton of content to get through, so we keep moving. Nevertheless, I am aware of the rubric they use to grade us.

We are docked if students are not actively using technology during the twenty minutes the principal visits the class. It is ridiculous, but it is why all of my assignments are online, most of them connected to some website the school pushed us to use.

I have a shelf full of books, but most of my students read from their computers. I always keep paper copies of my assignments in case of emergencies, but every student completes their assignment using their screen. Of course, by complete, I mean many of them use AI instead of thinking.

It is a constant battle I won’t rant about further, but it is only one problem with the constant use of technology.

Horvath explains how much time is lost to distractions. Students are constantly swiping screens, and despite having blocks, they can find a way around anything.

I will have students playing games, reading messages, reading about sports, watching old videos, and sometimes watching full-on movies. I can plan for an assignment to take fifteen minutes, and students will take an hour if I let them. At first, this looks like confusion, but it is actually just a distraction. They take so long to get started on anything, and after they answer a question, they feel the need to reward themselves with more distraction.

This is an example of a normal day:

I tell the class to start an assignment and tell them I will be walking around in case they have questions. After about five minutes into the assignment, I may start looking at screens to see what the kids are doing. Sometimes, a child is so absorbed by a game they don’t feel me behind them. Sometimes, I will ask a kid if they need help since their screen is blank. They will say no, and then quickly answer the first question correctly.

I’ve noticed that even though most years I have more time to get through the material now, I somehow end up covering less. Some of this is because I have to spend more time on material due to a lack of understanding, but I’m also sure I lose precious minutes every class trying to fight the technological distractions.

After reading Horvath’s work, I can’t continue down the same path. Next year, I plan to minimize technology. This will likely get me docked a few points during my next observation, but I’ll take my chances.

Learn how to think

Have you heard of the Gen Z stare? I’m too old to be certain that I have this right, but I think it describes how younger people respond to a comment or a question. It is a blank, emotionless look, almost like they didn’t hear you.

I know this is a fun joke online, and I’m sure some young people lean into it, but I imagine some of it comes from being raised on technology. They need their computers or phones to help them respond, even to social banter.

Horvath shares the story of a college counselor who once had a student confess he used AI for everything. He used it to write his college acceptance letter. He used it for every class in his first semester. He used it to build his social life. Perhaps not surprisingly, when she asked him questions like “who are you” or even “what are your dreams,” he could only stare as if he didn’t understand the question.

For him, at least if he is like my students, this isn’t a problem because he can just type the question into ChatGPT.

What happens when we don’t have access to the technology?

Horvath points out that productivity does not equate to learning. This is something lost on students and even the districts. Students can produce a ton of output (if by "produce" you mean entering a prompt into AI). They don’t know how to use it. They don’t know what it means.

They can’t think. (Discussing who benefits from children who produce products quickly but can’t think is another whole topic we can’t get into here.)

My co-worker loves AI. I find his passion frustrating, but even he understands it is only a helpful tool if the person using it understands what they are producing.

After reading Horvath’s book, I am certain stripping the classroom of technology will lead to more thinking. Students will be forced to stare at their paper until the spark in their mind ignites.

Instead of rushing through their work to get to the next distraction, they will have to sit with the lesson. Horvath says these moments are important to learning and retaining information.

As we approach the end of the school year, I’m surprised at how many students still don’t know terms we’ve been discussing all year. They miss the same questions on every test.

According to Horvath, the constant distractions make it almost impossible to retain information. It doesn’t get a chance to settle in the brain. They finish the assignment and immediately reach for their dopamine hit. The overrides most of the learning, and if the same questions are asked an hour later, the response is usually the Gen Z stare.

I could rant all day about Horvath’s book. I’ll stop because I think anyone interested in education, children, or the future should check it out. I have new clarity and a plan to help the students who step into my class. That isn’t enough, though.

There are still a lot of people passionate about pushing technology in the classroom. There is a lot of money involved, and it is hard for some to admit when they were wrong.

I was wrong. It is okay to admit it. Now, let’s start working toward building a better future.

Horvath, Jared Cooney, and Sophie Winkleman. Digital Delusion: How Classroom Technology Harms Our Kids’ Learning — and How to Help Them Thrive Again. Jared Cooney Horvath, 2026.