IPhones are a Privilege, Not a Right (or, my ode to the mom who created an iPhone contract for her son)

Did you hear about the mom who, when she gave her 13-year-old son an iPhone for Christmas last year, followed up the gift with a 18-point contract that he had to sign in order to use his phone? It was aaaall over the Internet at the time, and the mom, a writer named Janell Burley Hofmann, was all over TV, along with her son. It was as though they were (the best kind of) circus attraction; so out of the ordinary as to draw oohing and ahhing crowds. So fascinating! How did she do that?

My feeling at the time was one of admiration and solidarity, and I wanted to save the contract for the time — as far into the future as I can manage — in which my kids have smartphones. I’ll share with you my favorite points in the contract in just a second, but I bring this up today because I read a follow up piece today by Hofmann, in which she describes what happened next. The media frenzy, yes, but also the way she (and her son) ended up feeling about the contract, and about how it’s working in real life. She writes that the hoopla surrounding the contract…

…became a rally call for all parents to believe in themselves, to seek answers, to crawl out from under the pressure of perfection, to embody their humanness, to risk being a fool by taking action, to fully participate in the name of raising whole people.

Because here’s the thing. What Hofmann did by creating and enforcing the contract was, at its essence, being a parent.

I think that a lot of parents confront the phone-or-no-phone conundrum as just that: do they get one now, do they get one later, do they get one at all? And once that decision’s made, it’s as though the conversation’s over. The phone is in your child’s hands, and what happens with it, or to your child, is out of your hands. I don’t buy it, in the same way I don’t buy the first part of the argument — that kids have to have a phone or a smartphone. Which I’ve written about before.

That’s why Hofmann’s original list of contract points made me so happy. It was evidence of a parent in control, a parent who was making clear to her child that there are privileges and there are rights, and rights don’t include phones any more than they include bicycles and birthday parties. Access to technology is one of those things that feels very much like a right, but is it? I mean, is it for a child who is under age 18 and under your roof? A parent might feel she’s expressing love by giving a strings-free iPhone to her kid. I say that she’s expressing love if she makes values-based decisions on when or if to have an iPhone, and even more so if she sets up rules and conditions for the use of the iPhone. Here’s how Hofmann describes her thinking around the rules, and take special note of the fact that she didn’t make up rules off the top of her head:

It was a collection of my thoughts on technology — on life, really — that I had been assembling without intention for years. What is normal? What do we do with all of this access? Where is the balance? I combed for answers in casual conversations and with intelligent experts and decided I needed to find my own truth. Some points were firm rules, some listed my expectations for respect and responsibility, some were reminders to live fully. All of it was created in love.

In the follow-up piece yesterday, Hofmann notes — not at all smugly — that the iPhone contract has made her son more likely, not less, to be critical, discerning and self-policing in terms of his use of technology. Rather than trying to skirt the rules and hide things from his mom, he’s more likely to share things he finds questionable. As for Hofmann herself, she says that coming up with the rules wasn’t out of character for her (as her son noted at the time, “that’s so Mom!”), but the media attention since then has given her even more confidence in her approach.

She says, “…more than ever, I had to be so certain of myself, so confident in my own truth that I stood by it without dependence on acceptance or contempt. I’m tougher than I was three months ago. My head is clearer. My voice, more certain.”

I bet her son’s is, too.

Oh, and here are a few of the contract points I’ll totally crib, if/when my boys get smartphones:

• It is my phone. I bought it. I pay for it. I am loaning it to you. Aren’t I the greatest?

• If it rings, answer it. It is a phone. Say hello, use your manners. Do not ever ignore a phone call if the screen reads “Mom” or “Dad.” Not ever.

• Hand the phone to one of your parents promptly at 7:30 p.m. every school night and every weekend night at 9:00 p.m. It will be shut off for the night and turned on again at 7:30 a.m. If you would not make a call to someone’s land line, wherein their parents may answer first, then do not call or text. Listen to those instincts and respect other families like we would like to be respected.

• If it falls into the toilet, smashes on the ground, or vanishes into thin air, you are responsible for the replacement costs or repairs. Mow a lawn, babysit, stash some birthday money. It will happen, you should be prepared.

• Turn it off, silence it, put it away in public. Especially in a restaurant, at the movies, or while speaking with another human being. You are not a rude person; do not allow the iPhone to change that.

• Leave your phone home sometimes and feel safe and secure in that decision. It is not alive or an extension of you. Learn to live without it. Be bigger and more powerful than FOMO (fear of missing out).

Those are just six. Do yourself a favor, if you haven’t already, and read the other twelve.