When parents hear that schools are increasingly embracing “educational technology,” many of us picture something familiar from our own childhoods: a few aging desktops in the back of the library, a weekly typing class, maybe pasting clip art into MS Paint.
But today’s EdTech is nothing like what we grew up with.
Over half of U.S. students now use a computer at school for one to four hours each day, and roughly a quarter spend more than four hours on screens during a typical school day. Studies suggest that less than half of this time is spent actually learning, with students off task for up to 38 minutes of every hour when using classroom devices.
Worse, much of this digital surge is driven by invasive tools designed by for-profit technology companies. Many classroom platforms collect personal data, build long-term behavioral profiles and are deliberately engineered for addiction. The business model is simple: Hook children early, and you create lifelong customers.
Still, perhaps this would be a tolerable trade-off if these tools genuinely improved learning. They do not.
More than five decades of academic research show that when screens replace core instructional activities, learning outcomes decline. Even the OECD (Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development) has stated that students who use computers very frequently at school perform much worse in most learning outcomes. Large U.S. studies similarly find that expanding access to computers and online coursework often lowers performance compared to in-person instruction.
Despite this evidence, digital spending continues to rise rapidly. Federal E-Rate funding alone (one of several programs supporting school connectivity and internal broadband access) has increased by more than half a billion dollars in recent years. During that same period, scores on the National Assessment of Educational Progress have declined by more than a dozen points, representing a substantial loss of learning across the United States.
So, how did we get here?
Because the burden of proof has been reversed.
In medicine, a new drug must prove its efficacy before being released to patients. In law, guilt must be proven before punishment is imposed. But in education, new technologies routinely enter classrooms with minimal independent evidence of benefit. The default assumption has become: “If a product exists, it must be good for learning — so let’s deploy it first and ask questions later.”
EdTech remains one of the few large industries affecting our children that operates with almost no regulatory standards.
Utah is now poised to change that.
Two proposed bills would restore basic accountability. The SAFE Act would establish standards for approving instructional software before it can be widely used in classrooms, shifting the burden of proof back to its rightful place and ensuring baseline protections for student safety, privacy and educational value. Congruently, the Balance Act would place reasonable limits on classroom screen time — especially in early grades — encouraging schools to preserve proven analog practices that support attention, comprehension and cognitive development.
If passed, these bills would set a national precedent: that children’s learning deserves the same evidence and safety standards we expect in every other high-stakes domain.
As a neuroscientist, I support these bills on empirical grounds. But as a parent, I support them on human ones. Schools should serve to strengthen our children — not quietly trade their attention, data and learning for convenience and novelty.
A generation sharper, healthier and more capable than our own shouldn’t be a radical goal. It should be the minimum standard we demand.