Louise Brown: Problems for adolescents don’t stem from smartphones or TV but a lack of adult leadership

Louise Brown has been a parliamentary candidate, is a teacher, and Director of Educational Partnerships. She is a broadcaster on local radio. 

In an era of growing concern over adolescent well-being, screen time, and the influence of digital devices, the response from many policymakers has been to reach for blunt solutions—banning smartphones, restricting access to social media, and calling for tighter controls.

The recent TV drama Adolescence sparked widespread mania, portraying chaos in schools and teachers at their wits’ end.

Reactions were so intense—even from the Prime Minister—that proposals emerged for compulsory school screenings of the show. The media frenzy even turned on the Leader of the Opposition after she admitted she hadn’t watched it, as if she had somehow committed a crime.

There’s merit in opening up these conversations, just as Mr Bates vs The Post Office did, although it’s worth pointing out this was a dramatisation of a true event which Adolescence is not, and no one’s denying the rise in youth anxiety and isolation. But as Ed West wrote in The Spectator, letting fictional drama drive national policy is a dangerous game.

Are we seriously shaping strategy based on scripts?

More worryingly, this reaction reveals a deeper failure of leadership. Have we become too afraid to draw red lines with young people? Instead of addressing the real issues, we blame tech or TV for our failings?

Much of the disorder in schools today stems not from smartphones but from a lack of consistent leadership, where values are properly understood and modelled by the whole school community, and where there is a clear vision which, unsurprisingly, includes boundaries.  I’ve met and heard of countless examples of school leaders who get it right, and my own interactions with young people, across the sector, reflect optimism, not despair.

Surely the solution lies in empowering teachers to lead with clarity, setting consistent expectations, and modelling a strong school culture.

Banning smartphones might remove a symptom, and to be honest in the classroom must surely already be the norm, but it does nothing for the root cause. Instead, it outsources the problem to parents and students, expecting them to navigate complex digital terrain with little support. What’s needed is not prohibition, but education. A ban is a blunt instrument. Effective leadership is nuanced. Schools must teach self-regulation, responsible tech use, and critical thinking. Removing phones simply pushes problems into the shadows, leaving students less prepared to handle them when they arise outside the school gates.

Finland, often cited for both its educational excellence and high happiness rankings, offers a compelling alternative.

Rather than ban devices, Finnish schools integrate digital literacy into the curriculum from an early age. Children learn not just how to use technology, but how to think about it—ethically, critically, and safely. Tech isn’t seen as the enemy but as a powerful tool that requires guidance and responsibility.

There’s a strong case that this approach helps nurture confidence and independence, key ingredients in well-being. Empowering young people, rather than controlling them, fosters resilience. Still, Finland isn’t without its own challenges. A 2021 PISA-linked study suggested excessive classroom screen use correlated with lower academic results. In response, some Finnish schools, like those in Riihimäki, reintroduced traditional textbooks to help students regain focus and depth. It’s interesting to note too that teaching is a sought after and highly respected profession in Finland and requires a Masters. This formalisation of the Master’s degree requirement for teachers in 1979 effectively granted them equal status with professionals like doctors and lawyers.

This is not about ditching digital entirely or swinging wildly between extremes. It’s about balance. Technology is here to stay and every day becomes less tangible. The challenge is to refine our strategies so it enhances learning instead of hindering it. That demands reflection, evaluation, and above all—leadership.

It’s not just schools that must step up. Parents and carers have a crucial role too. They need to model their own healthy digital habits and set clear boundaries. I have had far too many conversations with adults who don’t know how or are too afraid to use tech to control their children’s access to social media; non-traditional family set ups can make it harder to stick to one line, and maybe some may feel overwhelmed by the pace and scale of the digital world but these are not insurmountable problems.

We must normalise saying no to late-night TikToks and endless scrolling. Avoiding the conversation only worsens the issue. If adults won’t set boundaries, hoping to rely on the tweaking of online safety bills and calls for banning, young people are left to face a digital landscape built for addiction—without a compass.

We must ask ourselves: are we too afraid to be unpopular? Have we confused boundary-setting with damaging relationships? If so, we’re failing the very young people we’re meant to protect. Saying no is not rejection—it’s care. It provides safety, structure, and a sense of value.

The debate around smartphones in schools isn’t really about the devices. It’s about how we choose to lead. Finland is one country that shows what’s possible when we focus on teaching over banning, on guiding instead of reacting. But even they continue to learn and adapt. So must we.

Let’s stop letting TV dramas set national agendas and start asking harder questions of ourselves. The problem isn’t young people — it’s our refusal to lead. And if we don’t, who will?