Smart phones and smart art
Yesterday’s Guardian column (in print on Saturday, now on line on Sunday which, when comments are open below the line, which they aren’t today, rather keeps me busy on a Sunday*) is from a 12 year old. Ostensibly it’s about how her mum (and dad, but mum seems to get the blame here, plus ca change) won’t let her have a smart phone. But of course it’s about so much more.
I’m ever impressed when children write to me. Usually the youngest is about 13, this week’s was I think the youngest I’ve had. I think it shows great initiative to write in to a paper about something you’re not sure about and it reminds me of why I wanted to be a journalist in the first place: the little girl who wrote to the New York Sun to ask if there was a Santa Claus. I read this story when I was myself a little girl and I was so touched that an actual newspaper editor had taken the time to reply to her and that it had such authority. The editorial has gone down as one of the most famous in history, with good reason.
(Also why is there any debate of COURSE there’s a Santa Claus.)
Without wanting to go too off topic, this reminds me of one of the earliest letters I got into my Guardian column, from a reader asking if it wasn’t lying to her daughter to say there was a Father Christmas. My specialist that week, Gabrielle Rifkind, explained rather beautifully that there’s a difference in lying and promoting imagination.
But back to this week’s Guardian column. The issue isn’t, of course, the smart phone per se any more than any other medium isn’t the issue, it’s what you do with it, how often and what slice of real life they take up. We are social animals, we are meant to be with and around people. We are built and have evolved to read body language, not emojis. Our lives are meant to be largely stress free with the occasional spike of stress hormones. We aren’t meant to form our idea of ourselves by the opinions of people we’ve never met and don’t care about us and live soaked in chronic stress from likes and streaks or lack there-of.
I’ve written extensively about this. My children don’t/didn’t have social media before the age of 18. I started this process very early but always, always allowing them a voice, always listening to them and always saying that everything was up for discussion. It takes time. A lot of time, but as I say on the piece and as I said on the radio when I was talking about this the other day, saying yes to social media to a child isn’t the end of the problem, it’s only the beginning. I feel passionately about this because I am all over social media and I know what it’s like.
Also the number of parents who say to me they don’t understand smart phones/social media and are ‘scared’ of it. If you’re a parent you really do need to learn about these things. It’s the only way to have a meaningful discussion with your children and it helps if you’re side by side on it. You wouldn’t teach them to drive if you couldn’t drive yourself, or teach them how to use a chainsaw (I live in the country so this is a valid example) if you’d never handled one.
Anyway, my eldest and I wrote a piece last year about this. I got asked by my Guardian editors and I said no several times before I relented but only with the caveat that my eldest also said what she thought, because will someone think of the children pmsl. I said I didn’t want to know what she’d say ahead of publication, she was free to write what she wanted and she had her own editor. This was the result.
This week’s Observer chocolate column is about the marvellous Arthouse Chocolate. I love this brand so much and I adore the art. The philosophy behind it is heart-warming and I love the art. I think a bunch of these bars tied together would make a great present. The bars and buttons are now sold in Waterstones branches so even more chance to pick one up.
Do follow them on Instagram if you’re on it. And yes I realise the irony of starting this piece talking about social media and ending it on that note..
*Who’s complaining? Not me. Younger me would have bust a gut at having two columns in two national newspapers. (Stop showing off - Ed.)