Four Red Flags about Your Screen Time

 

Screen Time 4 

          In early 19^th century England, the invention of the steam engine revolutionized movement. Humans being the inventive creatures they are, it was not long before someone thought of putting one into a carriage so that it could be propelled forward without horses. Usually we relate steam engines to trains, but this technology was also repeatedly tried in passenger cars for decades. The Stanley Steamer, anyone? At any rate, as this new tech made its way into society the powers that be were concerned at what it would do. They lobbied Parliament for regulation successfully, and in 1865 the Locomotive Act was passed. One of a number of similar bills, this one was designed to limit the damage steam propelled moving vehicles could cause to roads, animals, and people. In order to do so, it limited automobiles to a speed of four miles per hour in the country and two miles per hour in town. Further, it required that the cars being driven in town be crewed by three people, a driver, a stoker, and a man walking sixty yards ahead with a red flag to warn others that danger was approaching. Behold, the dubious birth of the phrase “red flag” as an indication of something approaching that is dangerous.

          In last week’s post I indicated a number of ways that in my view are an appropriate use of your screen time. In this post, I do not plan to do the exact opposite for the number of ways you can misuse your screen time is too numerous to list. Instead, I propose to offer you four red flags. If you notice one of these in your life it is a clear sign that your screen time is becoming dangerous.

          The first of these is relatively simple, but hard to admit. If you turn off your screen as soon as someone comes into the room,  and then act like it was not on in the first place you are in trouble. It may or may not be related to what you were just doing on it, but even if the use is relatively innocent it is indicative of the fact you know you should not have been on it. I am not talking about the common courtesy of putting away your electronic device in the presence of others. I am talking about doing that while pretending you had been doing something else all along. The heart is deceitful and desperately wicked, Jeremiah said. Are you being deceptive in an effort to cover up how much time you spend on it?

          The second red flag is more subjective but also more troubling. Do you find yourself getting fidgety without your screen? Do your hands keep reaching for it? Does your mouse automatically click over to your web browser? Do you get nervous when you cannot find the remote control?

          It is no secret I read widely. Along with the books I cited earlier in this series, I have also read thousands of pages on the history of television, and the rise of Google and Facebook. You do not have to believe what I am going to say next but I dare you to try to disprove it. Internet browsers are specifically designed to be addictive. Social media is specifically designed to be addictive. Television is specifically designed to be addictive. Video games are specifically designed to be addictive. Your screens come with hooks. The more time and the more length of time you have spent on those screens the more deeply those hooks are embedded in your brain.

          I go on a prayer retreat every year. There are several reasons I do, but one of them is to force myself to reckon with just how much I am attached to checking social media on my laptop, and tapping the apps on my phone. You do not have to go to that extreme, but if you find yourself fidgeting when you cannot use or look at a screen I propose you unplug yourself from it for a while. Institute a phone free Tuesday each week. Make people contact you the old fashioned way, you know, the actual phone. Unplug your television and face it to the wall. Leave your phone behind when you leave the house. Less extreme but still helpful, disable all the notifications on your phone or your laptop. Do not let emails and texts and messages rule your interrupted life. You decide when you are going to look at them. Track the screen time you spend on your apps and take the ones off your phone that you spend the most time on. You do not have to throw your gaming computer into the Mississippi River, but you do need to be in charge of your own life. Use screens, do not be used by them.

          The third red flag is common these days. I often wish I had a literal one to pull out and wave in front of people. When you stay involved with your screen in the presence of your family, your friends, or your church you are in trouble. I am not one of those who divide screen time from other time, labeling one fake and the other real life. I have real relationships online. But the people in front of me are the ones that are important. I never bring my phone to the dinner table when I am eating with others, unless it is to have a clock to watch my time for appointment reasons. I may or may not have my phone in my pocket at church, but if I do I only pull it out to answer a question from a living, breathing human being in front of me. Not only is it rude to others for you to be on your screen in their presence, it is distracting to you. How can you possibly focus on them when your screen is singing its siren song in your head the whole time? Multi-tasking, you say. Asinine ridiculousness, I say, and I have read the studies that show it. Be where you are. Be with who you are with. Deep relationships demand quality time. Give them the quality of your time, not just the amount of it.

          The fourth red flag is the most dangerous of all. You are in trouble with your screen time when you refuse to be accountable for it. For eleven years, Mandy and I shared the same Facebook page. I kind of miss that, though I realize why she got her own and I agree with her about it. There should be no message or text or email you erase. Passwords and passcodes should be known and shared between family members. Browsing history, digital movie rentals and purchases, online shopping orders, all of these and more should be open and available for inspection.

          Many years ago, I instituted a financial policy of openness at our church in Chicago. If you were a tithing member, you were welcome to look at any and all of our financial documents with the exception of personal giving records. If you wanted to look at the check book you could. If you wanted to leaf through the credit card statements or the bank statements, you could. If you wanted to see our property deeds, those were available too. Loan docs? Investment records? We had nothing to hide. Providing for honest things, not only in the sight of the Lord, but also in the sight of men (II Corinthians 8.21). Curiously enough, in all the years that policy was in force no one ever asked. Because they could and they knew it. Churches that are not open with their members about finances are in trouble, and people who are not open with their loved ones about their screen time are in even more trouble.

          The worst lie is the one you tell yourself.

          What lies are you telling yourself about your screen time?