On Taking Responsibility

A short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald has a relevant call to action for parents.

An early morning walk on Whidbey Island, WA

Hello, Analog Family readers!

You may have noticed an unusual gap in posts. It's because I have been travelling for talks about getting kids off screens! Over the past two weeks, I have delivered presentations in New Jersey, New York, and Washington state, as well as several virtual seminars. I added several days in Tiburon, California, near San Francisco, to visit a close friend and her family.

It has been gratifying to connect with hundreds of audience members who care deeply about these issues. I love hearing their stories, questions, and ideas for effecting real change. An added bonus was taking a kid on each of my east and west trips; it was fun for me to have a travel buddy, and they were thrilled to see more of the US.

While in New York City, I met with Jonathan Haidt, author of The Anxious Generation, and his campaign manager Alexa Arnold.

Katherine, Jon, and Alexa at NYU (March 2025)

I also had a very special dinner at Lenore Skenazy's home, whom many of you will recognize as the author of Free Range Kids, the co-founder of Let Grow (a pro-childhood independence organization that I often cite), and the person who wrote the foreword to my own book, Childhood Unplugged.

Dinner with Lenore Skenazy

I came away from these meetings feeling reenergized and refuelled. Writing is solitary work, and it can feel lonely at times, but connecting with all of these fantastic people in person reminded me that I'm not alone, that many others are fighting this same fight, too. It was hugely motivating. Onward we go!

And now, for some thoughts I had on the airplane…

There is a short story I haven't been able to stop thinking about for weeks. It's called “The Adjuster,” written by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and it tells the story of a wealthy young woman named Luella Hemple who is overwhelmed by her new responsibilities as a wife and mother. She fantasizes about getting divorced so she can go back to having a fun and carefree life.

But then a series of disasters occurs, which she is forced to endure, and she finds herself sitting with a mysterious doctor who essentially tells her to grow up and assume responsibility for her family and her life. He tells her:

"We make an agreement with children that they can sit in the audience without helping to make the play, but if they still sit in the audience after they're grown, somebody's got to work double time for them, so that they can enjoy the light and glitter of the world."

"But I want the light and glitter," she protested. "That's all there is in life. There can't be anything wrong in wanting to have things warm."

"Things will still be warm."

"How?"

"Things will warm themselves from you... It's your turn to be the centre, to give others what was given to you for so long. You've got to give security to young people and peace to your husband, and a sort of charity to the old. You've got to let the people who work for you depend on you. You've got to cover up a few more troubles than you show, and be a little more patient than the average person, and do a little more instead of a little less than your share. The light and glitter of the world is in your hands."

He continues: "The household here is in your keeping. If there is any light and warmth in it, it will be your light and warmth; if it is happy, it will be because you've made it so. Happy things may come to you, but you must never go seeking them any more. It is your turn to make the fire."

Get Out of the Audience

I encountered The Adjuster in Ryan Holiday's latest book on Stoic philosophy, Right Thing, Right Now. Not surprisingly, this excerpt was used as an example in a chapter called "Take Responsibility."

Holiday says that we're all like Luella Hemple at times, particularly when we are young and accustomed to our parents doing things for us. But inevitably, there comes a point when the roles shift, and we must assume responsibility, so that the next generation of children benefits from our care. Despite being a natural transition, this can feel profoundly uncomfortable.

Holiday writes, "There's a part of us that fears that responsibility will put a crimp in things, that it won't be fun. Or that there is something inherently unfair about having to assume it since so many people clearly do not." Why should we be the ones to grow up when there appears to be an abundance of childlike adults who are doing just fine?

But those who remain in the metaphorical audience, revelling in the light and glitter, fail to realize that they end up putting a greater burden on the adults who have stepped up to the stage to put on the show. And they shortchange themselves in the process, forgoing the personal development and maturation that occurs with challenging growth.

It’s Our Turn to Lead

While reading both Holiday's and Fitzgerald's words, I couldn't help but think about how many adults echo Luella Hemple's attitude when it comes to managing their kids' screen time. Over and over again, I see a complete abdication of responsibility on the part of adults to protect their children from the now-well-documented risks associated with excessive screen time.

Many parents choose instead to let their children inhabit virtual worlds, while remaining in an odd state of denial about what means for their lives. Why? Because saying no is uncomfortable. It's difficult. It's boring, uncool, fraught with potential argument. Some parents fear displeasing their offspring, of not being their "friend" anymore (spoiler alert: you're not supposed to be), of making them feel uncool in the eyes of their peers.

And yet, when we avoid the inevitable tough decisions that go along with raising kids in the 2020s, we abandon them to an Internet-saturated world that harms their neurological, emotional, social, and physical development.

Drawing strict boundaries with device ownership and screen time is not fun and requires a dogged willingness to go against the status quo at a time when it feels like everyone else is doing the opposite. And yet, if we don't do it, who will?

I've said it before in this newsletter, and I'll say it again: No one else is coming to save your kid from their 9-hour-a-day scrolling habit! That's our job, as parents, whether we like it or not. It's what we signed up for when we created small humans, even though they may have been born before social media and smartphones existed in the form they do now. But this is where we are, and this is what we must deal with.

We hurt ourselves and our children when we stall, hesitating to act, looking around eagerly for some saviour to show up in the form of an innovative new app or parental control and do the dirty work for us. Unknowingly and indirectly, we hurt the many other children who would benefit from us laying down strict rules with our own families, because it would make it easier for their parents to do the same.

If you are waiting for a cultural shift that will make it easier to say no, then I have some news: You are the cultural shift. Do it, and you'll be one household closer to driving that collective change that you wish others would initiate. There's no way around it. Nor is there time to lose; your child needs boundaries now, not next year or in five years' time.

It might seem comfortable to sit passively in the audience, like Luella Hemple wants to, but it's our turn to "be the centre and make the fire." The household is in our keeping. We owe it to our kids.

You Might Also Like:

• What Is Digital Minimalism?

• On Eccentricity

• Stop Filming, Start Dancing

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If You’d Like a Speaker:

As mentioned above, I’m doing lots of public speaking now about kids and screen time. Officially, I’m a speaker on behalf of the Anxious Generation campaign, but I am also represented by the Harry Walker agency. If you’re looking for a speaker, don’t hesitate to reach out, either to the agency or to me directly.

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