On the first day of this school year, our students stepped into classrooms without the constant buzz of cellphones in their pockets. The absence was striking. Instead of peeking at lit-up screens under their desks and repeatedly reacting to push notifications, students turned to one another, asked questions and filled the space with conversation. This change affirmed a decision that was not easy but critical to our mission as educators: Our school has banned all personal devices, including phones, and we have supplied every student with a school-issued and managed iPad. 

The choice by Scranton Prep administrators was not made lightly, nor was it driven by nostalgia for “simpler times.” Our decision emerged from deep reflection on our mission as educators, on the social and spiritual formation of our students, and on the challenge of preparing them for a world saturated with technology. Mounting evidence—and daily school experience—has shown us that unfettered phone use undermines this mission. By removing phones from classrooms, hallways and community spaces, we are not rejecting the digital world but reclaiming something more fundamental: the capacity to learn, to relate and to be fully present. 

Last summer, our faculty and our trustees read Jonathan Haidt’s book The Anxious Generation. Mr. Haidt argues that starting around 2010, the prevalence of smartphones and social media has fundamentally altered childhood. As screens replaced other forms of play, rates of adolescent anxiety, depression, self-harm and suicide surged globally. Childhood has historically included unsupervised exploration, rough-and-tumble play and the learning of a wide range of social rituals—experiences vital for building resilience and emotional maturity. In contrast, what Haidt calls the “phone-based childhood” robs them of these critical developmental milestones.

The Scranton Prep community spent this past year discerning where we saw Mr. Haidt’s assertions in our own young people’s experience of school, and how we might respond as Jesuit educators. We used the Jesuit School Network’s” “Profile of the Graduate at Graduation” as our guide, which defines the desired characteristics of a graduate from a Jesuit high school as intellectually competent, religious, open to growth, committed to justice and loving to others.  We came to the conclusion that unchecked use of smartphones and social media was impeding our ability to develop these characteristics in our young people.  

Each morning, our 700 students slip their smartphones, smartwatches and earbuds into lockable pouches that stay closed from first bell to last. The devices may remain with the students, but they are inaccessible. (In an emergency, students may access their phones by communicating with an adult in the building.) The result? Classrooms hum with greater focus, the lunchroom buzzes with conversation and play, and a sense of calm purpose pervades our halls. When we announced this decision to our parent community, we received an overwhelming amount of support. Although teachers and parents alike acknowledge this will be difficult for our students, there is consensus that students will benefit socially, academically and spiritually.  

The Educational Cost of Distraction 

As educators, we saw how smartphones were sapping students’ attention. A notification buzzing, a social media feed refreshing—each pulls a student’s mind out of the lesson. A study at the University of Texas found that the mere presence of a smartphone, silenced and face-down on the desk, was enough to reduce people’s working memory and problem-solving ability. It’s as if part of the brain is busy “not thinking about the phone,” draining cognitive resources that could otherwise be devoted to a classroom lesson.

Every lesson, every skill, every spark of understanding requires students to give their minds over, at least for a while, to the slow work of learning. Yet phones are designed precisely to fracture that attention. As a result, teachers spend time redirecting focus, and students struggle to sustain deep engagement with reading, problem-solving or discussion. By creating a phone-free environment, we are protecting one of the scarcest resources of our age: uninterrupted thought and reflection.

The case for a phone-free school goes beyond academics. The more pressing concern is social. Over the past decade, educators nationwide have witnessed a marked decline in face-to-face interaction among young people. Students find it harder to maintain eye contact, sustain conversations, read social cues or resolve conflicts in person. Social maturity—the ability to build friendships, negotiate differences and empathize with others—cannot be learned through screens.

When students default to texting rather than talking, or scrolling rather than socializing, they lose valuable opportunities to practice the skills that make community possible. Jesuit schools believe that hallway chatter, lunch table conversations, and after-class debates are as important to education as textbooks and tests—and, in fact, can lead us to God. A phone-free environment fosters presence to one another and a community oriented toward service, compassion and listening, assisting us in our mission to form men and women for others.

By setting phones aside during the school day, we are giving students the chance to rediscover the art of conversation, to learn patience in listening and to develop empathetic relationships rooted in presence rather than pixels.

The Spiritual Dimension: Honoring Human Dignity

There is also a deeper, more fundamental reason for our decision. At the heart of Jesuit education is not only the transmission of knowledge, but the recognition of what it means to be human. To look people in the eye, to listen without distraction, is to affirm their dignity and worth as humans created in God’s image. In a culture where attention has become the most coveted commodity, undivided presence is a radical act.

Our school sees value in teaching students that being with another person requires more than being in the same room—it requires being fully present. This is not about rejecting technology but about instilling a habit of presence that honors others. Phones, for all their usefulness, too often make us absent from the very people in front of us. By removing them from school life, we are cultivating a community where each student can feel seen and respected.

“The Characteristics of Jesuit Education” (1986), a mission-focused document for Jesuit high schools, defines cura personalis as attention to the intellectual, emotional, social and spiritual needs of each student. We view our decision to go phone-free as an act of cura personalis: giving students the space to focus, reduce anxiety and form real relationships without constant digital distraction.

Already, the results are visible. Teachers report deeper discussions. Students linger longer in conversation. The air feels lighter, less hurried, more human. These are not small gains. They represent a step toward restoring the culture of learning and community that are constitutive of Catholic and Jesuit schools.

Our decision is not the only solution to the challenges of technology in schools, but it is a step we believe others can learn from. We invite other schools and educators to consider what it might mean to reclaim presence, to prioritize attention and to honor the dignity of each student by building spaces where face-to-face relationships can flourish. In the end, this is not about banning a device. It is about protecting something more precious: the possibility of being fully alive to learning, to friendship and to one another. It is about creating spaces where our students can encounter the living God.