My eight-year-old son finds it impossible to imagine that when I was his age, there were no video games. To him, a world without the worldwide web sounds old-fashioned and (“No offence, mom”) pretty boring.
Although I work hard to limit his screen time at home, my son is immersed in digital culture. He loves Minecraft and Lego Star Wars. He enjoys watching movies on Netflix and has taught me more than I ever wanted to know about YouTube celebrity.
Studies show that many urban children spend almost 95 per cent of their lives indoors, much of it plugged in to digital devices. While this statistic seems alarmingly high to me, when I compare my son’s experiences to my childhood, he definitely spends much more time indoors than I did.
In his renowned book Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children From Nature-Deficit Disorder, Richard Louv describes a condition he calls “nature deficit disorder.” Louv suggests that a lack of unstructured play in the natural world contributes to a range of developmental and behavioural problems.
Rates of childhood anxiety, depression and obesity are on the rise. Surveys suggest that while less than five per cent of today’s children can name the five most common birds or plants in the backyard, most children, at 10 years old, can name 300 to 400 brands of consumer products.
The prescription for nature-deficit disorder is simple: Go outdoors. Time spent outside in nature has been shown to improve empathy and increase cognitive development. Unstructured play builds physical confidence and problem-solving skills. There is so much to learn by simply observing the natural world around us.
Experiencing a connection with nature in childhood can inspire a lifelong appreciation of the ecosystems we rely on for survival.
As a child, I dug for clams on beaches that are now closed for harvesting due to overfishing, pollution or red tide. I will never forget those seminal experiences, yet my son has no idea what he is missing when we go to the beach.
Many of the places I once played have been developed. Nature is dwindling, and I realize that for my son, this is normal. He does not see the farmland or forest that used to be, only the strip mall and condominiums that stand in their place.
This is what we call a shifting baseline. The amount of intact nature experienced by each generation becomes the new “normal,” rendering the rapid and irreversible destruction of our natural world invisible.
We have an enormous responsibility to the next generation to pass on our awareness of these changes. We can do this by sharing stories about our own childhoods and by going outside with them, by naming the plants we can still remember, and by showing them places we played when we were young.
Children learn from the behaviour of the adults who surround them. By turning off and going outside, I want my son to understand that I value time spent connecting with the natural world, without digital interruption.
However, choosing to take a day off of digital distractions does not just benefit children.
It is never easy for me to leave my smartphone behind. I work online. I adore social media. I follow trends and am inspired by the power and creative potential of global connection.
But when I leave the digital world behind and get outside, I feel healthier, happier and more fulfilled. I, too, am suffering from nature-deficit disorder. For me, the West Coast rainforests and beaches are my medicine. The powerful roar of the ocean recharges and inspires me.
Sharing nature experiences with my son is never a one-way transaction. Children are masters of giving themselves up to experiences and finding joy all around them. Whenever I make time to turn off my phone and spend time outside with my son, he teaches me how to let go of all my worries and responsibilities and to enjoy being alive.
That is why I am choosing to spend my Family Day outside and digital free.
Anna Kemp is a local environmental writer working at Sierra Club B.C.
