Screens Aren’t Failing Students. Design Is.

My daughter and I

A new connection on LinkedIn recently shared an essay by Jared Cooney Horvath titled “We Gave Students Laptops and Took Away Their Brains.” That post sparked a conversation between us, and the topic stayed with me. Not because I disagreed entirely, but because it reminded me how easy it is to focus on the tool and miss the larger issue. I’ve seen something different unfold, both in my work and in my own home, and it keeps bringing me back to the same conclusion. It’s not the screens that are failing students. It’s the design of the learning itself.

In the past five years, schools in the U.S. have spent more than $60 billion on education technology. That includes laptops, software, digital platforms, and now AI-powered tools, many of which were introduced with the hope that more access would lead to better academic results. Despite those efforts, there is little evidence that these investments have delivered what they promised. According to Education Week and research from the EdTech Evidence Exchange, much of this technology remains unused or is implemented in ways that do not improve teaching or learning in meaningful ways.

At the same time, student proficiency rates are dropping. The National Assessment of Educational Progress, also known as the Nation’s Report Card, shows that only 31 percent of eighth graders are proficient in reading, and only 26 percent are proficient in math. Among high school seniors, reading performance is now the lowest it has been in over thirty years. These are not just statistics on a report. They reflect something educators, parents, and students feel every day, students are surrounded by devices, but they are not always being supported in ways that lead to deep, lasting learning.

Real learning does not happen just because content is available. The brain grows through challenge, connection, reflection, and time. When schools prioritize efficiency or digital completion over depth and presence, the result is often a form of learning that looks productive on the surface but leaves little behind. Screens are not the issue. It’s what we ask students to do with them that matters.

This became even more clear to me during the pandemic. When schools shifted online, my daughter, who had grown up with screens and was comfortable using them, began to struggle in ways that were harder to name. The structure of her days disappeared. The connection to her teachers and classmates felt distant. She struggled academically and her motivation faded. Learning became something she managed, not something she looked forward to. The emotional cost of that shift was real, and it unfolded slowly.

What changed her experience wasn’t removing technology. It was changing the way her learning was designed. She transitioned into a different program that slowed the pace, focused on relationships, and created space for her to engage as a full person rather than just a student completing assignments. That shift made room for her curiosity to return and helped her rebuild the confidence she had slowly lost during the months of remote learning.

She is now in college and doing incredibly well. In fact, she just made Honor Roll! She uses technology regularly, including AI, but those tools support her thinking rather than replacing it. The difference is not that she avoids tech. It’s that she learned how to manage her time, attention, and learning process first, and then brought those tools into a structure she knows how to lead.

That same idea shaped the work we did at Elite Academic Academy and continues to guide what I’m building now at IlluminateXR. The question is not whether screens belong in classrooms. The more important question is how learning is designed around them and whether that design reflects how people actually grow. We need to spend less time chasing tools and more time thinking about what students need in order to think clearly, feel connected, and grow with confidence.

Some of Horvath’s recent writing explores how screen-based learning affects memory, comprehension, and attention in ways that are easy to overlook but important to consider. While I haven’t read his full book, the broader point resonates with what I’ve seen. Overreliance on digital tools without meaningful structure can lead to shallow engagement and lower performance. Where our perspectives align is in the belief that learning must be designed with the human brain in mind. That’s not just a neuroscience issue,it’s a design responsibility. If we continue to prioritize speed and efficiency over presence and depth, we’re not just weakening academic performance, we’re shaping how students see themselves as learners.

This conversation has stayed with me not because of one article, but because of what that article stirred up in me. I’m thankful for platforms like LinkedIn that create space for meaningful conversations and help us challenge assumptions. Sometimes a passing post becomes the starting point for something deeper. This was one of those moments.

For anyone interested in the original piece that sparked this reflection, you can find it here: Jared Cooney Horvath, “We Gave Students Laptops and Took Away Their Brains,” The Free Press, December 5, 2025.