How Screens Interfere With The Innate Drive to Socialise

What is heavy screen exposure doing to normal brain development?

Source: Digital Wikimedia Commons

The iPhone has been with us for only 12 years but since then we have assimilated screens of every kind from devices that fit in the palm of our hand to giant storefront LED signs.

Yet from selfies that undo the restorative effect of nature to social media that makes us lonelier than ever, screen intrusion affects self–image, the way we communicate, and even the way we feel.

As more generations are exposed to screens earlier and in more ways than ever before, one worry is that the constant sensory stimulation is competing with normally growing brain pathways for socialization and emotional intelligence.

That is, the high level of stimulation from embedded tablets in bassinets, iPotty trainers, and the backs of car seats interferes with the way person–to–person engagement normally forges connections among neurons.

Humans are inherently social. Infants instinctively read others long before they learn to speak. They can distinguish different facial expressions. But humans of all ages are vastly more interested in inferring the mental states behind the visible outer shell—another’s beliefs, desires, and intentions.

This is called “Theory of Mind,” and recently discovered regions in the human cortex have been found to underlie this ability to reason about another person’s thoughts.

Early screen exposure competes with normal development because the first year of life is peak time for neural plasticity. For example, the visual cortex develops its forest of connections most rapidly during the first three months of life, and the postnatal brain grows in volume by one percent every day, tripling in size between ages 0–2.

Early experience is particularly important, and critical time windows exist during which a specific type of input (e.g., vision, hearing, touch) exerts its greatest effect on the developing brain. Patterns of synaptic connections establish themselves through repeated sensory simulation and motor actions.

But a reversal of connections already laid down can happen when expected stimulation is absent or blocked by a tablet thrust in front of a baby’s face.

Until the iPad’s appearance in 2010, other humans were almost certainly the most interesting thing in a baby’s world. Broadcast television is 70 years old while exposure to close–up screen media during the first three years of life has penetrated the culture only in the past decade or so. Occasions for screen viewing today, whether voluntary or forced on us, are everywhere.

Screen competition is typical of brain development in that a gain in one place exacts a loss somewhere else. Screen–based sights and sounds hold little meaning for a child whereas constant stimulation bolsters basic sensory pathways at the expense of more intricate ones destined to grow into networks for social intelligence and engagement.

Screens have made it difficult to be present—not just to others but to oneself. Dinner with a friend is marked by constant interruptions. We clutch our phones and take them to the toilet, to the bed, just about everywhere.

Their constant presence shunts aside chances for spontaneous encounters, making it easier and more comfortable to relinquish attention to the screen than to make ourselves available others.

Many people have such a strong emotional attachment to their phone that we can regard it as an extended iSelf. “Nomophobia,” coined from the elision of “no mobile” plus “phobia” describes the panic of not having immediate access to one’s phone. Larry Rosen, Professor Emeritus at California State University, has studied the psychological effects of technology on adults, teens, and children for thirty years.

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One recent count has 18–to–24 year–olds checking their phones 210 times a day, or roughly once every five minutes. Rosen found that “heavy smartphone users showed increased anxiety after only 10 minutes” of not having access to their smartphone.

At the end of a one–hour experiment anxiety shot up to self–reported “unbearable” levels. Furthermore, out–of–sight is not out–of–mind. “Unhealthy connection to their constant use weighs on users,” says Rosen, causing anxiety even when their devices are out of view.