No, Tech Leaders Aren’t Keeping Their Kids From Learning With Technology

We often hear that leaders in the technology industry kept their own children away from technology. There is truth to that claim, but it leaves out the most important distinction. Many limited phones, social media, non-educational games and passive entertainment at home. They did not limit technology used to code, research, create, collaborate or access learning.

Rules about phones at dinner, devices in bedrooms and endless scrolling are not evidence against school laptops used for purposeful learning. We have confused limits on social and recreational technology with limits on instructional technology.

What Tech Leaders Actually Limited

The examples are mostly about home life: Bill Gates delayed phones and barred them at meals. Tim Cook opposed social media for his nephew. Steve Jobs limited technology at home. Susan Wojcicki restricted phones and unrestricted YouTube.

None of that demonstrates opposition to students using technology to learn. A Columbia Journalism Review analysis found that media coverage repeatedly stretched ordinary family boundaries in the home into claims that technology insiders wanted “the least tech” for their children. The parents featured in those stories were intentional about how tech was used and often encouraged technology use for learning even when the headlines suggested otherwise.

Ali Partovi, founder of iLike and cofounder of Code.org, made the distinction clearly in the original coverage. He separated time spent consuming from time spent creating and compared digital creation to painting, playing piano or writing. “I think it’s absurd to limit her time spent creating computer art, editing video, or computer programming,” he told The New York Times.

Affluent families also have more resources to replace recreational screen time with tutors, caregivers, travel, sports, music lessons and other enrichment. Removing technology from public schools does not create those opportunities. Without additional people, programs and experiences, it simply removes a resource.

Many Benefited From Early Access

In 1968, the Lakeside School Mothers Club paid for access to a computer terminal when few schools offered anything comparable. Bill Gates used it to play, experiment, program and solve real problems. Gates called the terminal his first opportunity to learn about computers. That access helped put them on the path to Microsoft.

Mark Zuckerberg began programming around sixth grade. His parents noticed his interest, hired a tutor and gave him the guidance and time to explore a talent.

They had time to experiment, make mistakes and persist. That rarely fits an arbitrary time block.

What Tech Leaders Encourage Their Own Children to Do

The reality is that these leaders encourage their own children to use technology with intention because it is often the best tool available for learning.

Peter Diamandis says he is teaching his twin teenage sons to be curious, find a purpose and use AI to go deeply into subjects they care about. He distinguishes between superficial AI use and genuine exploration.

Even the recent New York Times piece that renewed this narrative contains counterexamples. Mark Zuckerberg says his eight-year-old can code her ideas and produce videos, and that they use AI together while baking. Evan Spiegel limits phones and passive entertainment for his younger children but says his 15-year-old is “all-in on technology.” These are age- and activity-based limits, not a rejection of technology for learning.

Elon Musk created Ad Astra for his five children and a small group of SpaceX families. It rejected grade levels and standardized instruction, not technology, offering a Mac laptop to every student along with robotics, chemistry and hands-on problem solving. It was elite and experimental, but certainly not no-tech.

Even Waldorf Uses Technology Intentionally

The Waldorf School of the Peninsula is often presented as proof that tech families reject screens. It is one small, elite private school, not representative evidence. Its low-tech model also replaces textbook- and test-driven instruction with small classes, arts, gardening, field trips and hands-on learning. With tuition ranging from $34,900 to $47,500, most public schools cannot replicate it.

Even Waldorf does not reject technology. Students study computer science, algorithms, hardware and large language models, while its robotics team builds and programs robots. The school says students should use technology as creators rather than consumers. That is intentional technology use.

Stop Counting All Screen Time as Equal

This distinction matters when schools treat evidence for phone and social media restrictions as justification for limiting all technology. A student scrolling through videos and a student coding an app may spend the same time on a screen. That does not make the activities educationally equivalent.

I support phone-free classrooms, age-appropriate social media restrictions and limits on addictive platforms and passive consumption. I also support evaluating which technologies provide meaningful learning, protect privacy and give students and teachers agency to choose the features and settings that work best for them. Teachers and students should decide when technology is the right tool for effective, accessible learning. Those positions do not conflict.

We should stop asking only, “How much screen time?” and start asking the kinds of questions technology leaders like Ali Partovi are actually asking: “What are students doing, and is it worth doing?” 

Why Elementary Students Need Access to Screens

Just as schools are preparing to open, New York City is putting new limits on technology use. As reported in The New York Times and Chalkbeat, there will be no individual screens before third grade and recommended caps on screen time for grades 3 - 8.

I understand where this is coming from. Students need to talk, play, move, build, draw, read, write, collaborate, and interact with teachers and classmates. Students should not spend their days sitting at desks consuming information and doing rote work, but taking away individual screens is not the same thing as improving learning.

As I wrote recently in Screen Time Is the Wrong Unit of Measurement, the problem with screen-time rules is that they measure the device rather than what students are doing with it. That's particularly problematic with young children because sometimes the screen is the thing giving a child access to learning.

Sometimes the screen is an accessibility tool

Think about what an individual device can provide: text-to-speech, speech-to-text, enlarged text, captions, adjustable text, dictionaries, audio, translation, and access through a refreshable braille display. For some students, these aren't extras. They're how they access learning.

Accessibility also extends beyond students with an official disability designation. A child learning English may need translation. A struggling reader may benefit from hearing a word or passage while following along. Another child may need larger text. If a student needs one of those supports before third grade, an individual-screen restriction becomes more complicated.

Another concern is that students who need screens may become stigmatized. We may also end up testing and labeling students who were learning successfully with built-in accessibility features simply so they can regain access to those supports. Technology can meet many learning needs without requiring a disability classification. Remove the technology, and the analog environment may turn a learning difference into a labeled disability.

Technology can help children learn to read

There's also an assumption in some of these discussions that screens and literacy are in opposition. The research is much more nuanced. A large systematic review comparing children's reading on paper and digital devices found that no difference was the most common result. Print had advantages in some circumstances. Digital had advantages in others, including vocabulary, engagement, and support for diverse learners. Knowing which platform is best for the learning goal is key.

I've seen the potential firsthand with Footsteps2Brilliance, an early literacy program. Research I’ve shared about the program has found strong literacy outcomes when young children use it consistently. What is best for students is using what works for the child and the learning goal, not dictating the platform. 

Sometimes the screen is the library

A laptop or tablet isn't just a screen. It can be a child's personal library. Young children should have physical books and access to digital ones. However, a classroom has only so much shelf space and providing books at all reading levels and languages is not practical. Digital libraries can provide thousands of additional choices along with features that paper can't easily provide. Students can enlarge the text, hear or define an unfamiliar word, translate something, or listen to a book while following along.

Access to learning by providing more books in more formats is something we should be expanding, not restricting.

Individual screens also make individualization possible

Elementary classrooms don't contain children who all read at the same level, learn at the same pace, speak the same language, or need the same supports. Technology can help with that. Tools such as Newsela can provide content at different reading levels while students explore the same topic. The student sitting next to them doesn't need to know which version they're reading. That's not just differentiation. That's dignity.

Technology can also provide additional practice, immediate feedback, audio, translation, and other supports while the teacher works with individual students or small groups. A teacher can't simultaneously rewrite every text at five reading levels, translate it into several languages, read it aloud at different speeds, and provide individual feedback to every student. Technology can.

Who should decide?

There's another problem with blanket restrictions. They take decisions about learning away from the people closest to the learning: teachers and students.

Teachers know their students. They should have the expertise to know when a device is helping a child and when it's getting in the way. Students also know things about how they learn that policymakers sitting far from the classroom don't.

One student may benefit from listening to a book while another does better with the print version. A student may discover that enlarging text helps them concentrate or that hearing a word helps them understand it. Another may be better off putting the device away because pen and paper works best.

Those are learning decisions. There will be times when young students should put the screen away, and there will be times when that screen gives a child access, choice, independence, or a better way to learn. A blanket policy making those decisions in advance puts agency in the wrong hands.

We should give teachers and students guidance for making good choices about technology, then trust them to make those choices.