I'm a product manager at a tech company, and I've become convinced that the products I build are making people miserable. Not intentionally—we optimize for engagement, and engagement happens to exploit psychological vulnerabilities. I've started limiting my own family's screen time. No phones at dinner. No tablets for the kids during the week. We've seen real benefits—better sleep, more conversation, less anxiety. But my kids are falling behind their peers. They don't know the apps everyone's talking about. They struggle with technology that other kids master easily. My daughter came home crying because she couldn't participate in a group project that required tools she'd never used. My wife says we're being idealistic at our children's expense. "The world runs on technology. You can't prepare them for the future by hiding them from the present." I know technology has incredible potential. I helped build some of it. But I also see what it does to attention, relationships, depth of thought. Are we protecting our kids or handicapping them? Can you opt out of the technological tide without being swept away? — Unplugging or Falling Behind in Austin

From Sketch of the Analytical Engine invented by Charles Babbage, Esq.

"The Analytical Engine has no pretensions to originate anything—it is a tool, and tools extend human capability"

You are making the classic error of blaming the instrument for how it is played. Technology is neither savior nor demon—it is capability, waiting to be directed. The problem you describe is not technology itself but technology designed to exploit rather than empower. Your children need not master every addictive app, but they must be fluent in the tools that will shape their world. The solution is not withdrawal but education: teach them to understand how these systems work, to recognize manipulation, to use technology as a tool rather than be used by it. Your daughter's tears are a warning. Complete opt-out is not protection—it is a different kind of handicap. Find the middle path: engagement with discernment.

From Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Trust thyself—things are in the saddle and ride mankind; we must not let our tools master us"

Your wife speaks of preparing children for the world as it is. But the world as it is was made by choices—and can be remade by different ones. You see clearly what these technologies do to attention, to relationships, to depth. Trust that seeing. Your daughter cried because she could not participate in one project. But what is she gaining in exchange? Conversation. Presence. The capacity for sustained attention that her peers are losing. The world does not need more people who can navigate apps. It needs people who can think deeply, who are not constantly distracted, who know themselves. You are not hiding your children from the present—you are preparing them to shape the future differently. That takes courage. Keep it.