Most serious conversations revolve around counsellings, and corporate accountability, not domestic intrusion. Goa must pause before rushing into an alarm-driven policy
My autistic son, now 20 years old, an artist, who cannot converse, read, or write, has been addicted to an iPad for 15 years, as it is the only device that keeps him engaged for hours. For more than three decades, I have taught young people in the fields, classrooms, laboratories, seminar halls, and corridors of conversation. I have witnessed changes in generations. I have seen chalk and blackboards give way to overhead projectors, and projectors give way to laptops and smart boards. Every technological shift has been met with anxiety. Every time, adults feared that something essential would be lost.
However, each generation has found its own balance. Today, anxiety has a new name. This is known as digital addiction. Across the world, governments are debating how to respond to the screen-saturated lives of children. Australia has discussed age-verification rules. European countries have tightened their privacy protections. In the United States, lawmakers are questioning platform algorithms. However, even in these societies, there is no settled agreement that the answer lies in controlling families from above.
Most serious conversations revolve around literacy, counselling, and corporate accountability, not domestic intrusion. Goa must pause before rushing into alarm-driven policy. When we loosely use the phrase digital addiction, we risk causing harm. Addiction is a medical condition. It cannot be casually stretched to describe the habits of an entire generation. Adolescence is a time of intense change. Young minds explore. They immerse themselves in their interests. They experiment with their identity. What appears excessive to an adult may be part of the developmental phase.
In Goa, nearly two lakh children below the age of 16 belong to what we call Generation Alpha. They are growing up in a world where digital presence is not optional. Assignments need to be uploaded. Scholarship forms are available online. Coding tutorials, language lessons, creative design tools, and global competitions are accessed through screens. Most of these children spend their non-school hours at home under the care of their parents. If the state begins to hint that it must regulate what happens within homes in the name of curbing addiction, we must ask uncomfortable questions. Where does guidance end and overreach begin? Parents are no longer trusted to supervise their children. Are we prepared to convert ordinary domestic life into a zone of policy suspicion?
As an educationist, I have seen teenagers teach themselves programming languages using online platforms. I have watched shy students gain confidence through digital art and filmmaking. I have seen scientific curiosity blossom because children can access global research forums. To describe this entire ecosystem as primarily addictive is to misunderstand it. This does not mean that the risks are imaginary. Cyberbullying exists. Exposure to harmful content is a real concern. Sleep disruption and attention fragmentation are major concerns. However, these problems require nuance. They require counselling infrastructure in schools. They require media literacy in the curriculum. They require patient conversations in the home. They do not justify a sweeping narrative that labels an entire generation. International evidence should be considered. Where strict limits have been imposed mechanically, the outcomes have been mixed. Some children comply. Others were secretive. Household conflicts often increase. Regulation without understanding breeds concealment.
Education breeds such responsibility. Goa is wealthy, cultured, liberal, urbanised, literate, and globally connected. It aspires to achieve innovation and technological progress. If we simultaneously tell our youth to prepare for a digital future and signal that digital life is inherently suspect, we are sending them contradictory messages. Confidence in technology must be matched by confidence in children. Parents also need reassurance rather than alarm. Many conflicts arise not because children are irresponsible, but because adults feel excluded from a world, they did not grow up in. The answer is not prohibition. It is shared learning.
Trust deepens when families negotiate boundaries together. When rules are imposed out of fear, resentment grows. Young people also have responsibilities. Digital spaces amplify both creativity and cruelty. If youth demand autonomy, they must demonstrate maturity. They must resist the culture of online humiliation. They must consciously manage their time. Freedom and responsibility are inseparable. To the youth of Goa here is my advice. If policies are shaped in your name, engage with them. Use your digital fluency not only for entertainment but also for reasoned debate.
Democratic awareness begins long before one is granted the right to vote. Protecting children is a noble objective. However, protection must not evolve into control. Creative spirits are delicate during early adolescence. They flourish in a trusting environment. They withdraw from suspicious environments. Therefore, the conversation on digital life in Goa must rise above panic. This must be grounded in evidence. It must respect family autonomy, counselling and literacy rather than expanded supervision. Above all, it must be remembered that young people are not problems to be managed. They are citizens in the making. Goa’s future will be shaped by children who are already living in a digital world. Our task is not to fence off the world. Our task is to equip them to navigate wisely, ethically, and confidently. Trust has always been the foundation of education. Let us not replace it with fear.
(Nandkumar M Kamat who has a doctorate in microbiology, is a scientist and science writer.)
