An Optimist’s Guide To The Phone Ban

Strangely, losing access to my phone during school hours sort of felt like what I’d imagine losing a limb to feel like. In the first week, I kept instinctively reaching for my phone during breaktime- to show my friend a message or a video- only to freeze, remembering I could get it confiscated. Each time, I mentally scolded myself, and it still took nearly a week before the reality of the ban set in.

When the policy was first announced during an assembly towards the end of last year, it’s safe to say the room’s collective enthusiasm could best be described as muted. The hall was practically trembling with whispers of disbelief and annoyance. I’ll admit, one of those voices was my own- but can you blame me?

But following the initial frustrations and people getting past their withdrawal symptoms… things inexplicably began to change. With the usual digital lifeline to cling to, people began to look up, literally and metaphorically. Lunchtimes felt louder, conversations flowed more naturally, and I myself began realizing how much easier it was to talk to people I normally wouldn’t. It wasn’t some 1980s friendship movie montage-esque overnight transformation, but while it was happening, the school was steadily feeling more alive- almost as if it was slowly waking up.

And perhaps that’s what the management was aiming for, and we, as a student body, grossly misinterpreted it. Maybe it was not some totalitarian tech ban but more forced social rehabilitation.

As it turns out, apparently, most people began to realize the same thing. In a survey we ran across tenth grade, 80% of students said they felt the phone ban was a necessary action, and around 80% believed it made the UWC environment better. Granted, not everyone was thrilled- only about 20% explicitly mentioned liking the action per se. Regardless, for something that had us believing our school lives were going to crash and burn, those stats aren’t so bad.

The reasons people gave for these reasons were surprisingly wholesome. A number mentioned how it got people ‘off their phones’ and ‘talking more.’ Several people mentioned that lunchtimes were ‘far more interesting’ because people actually engaged with others instead of sitting in silence, doomscrolling. Someone else noted that ‘even 

when it was just a person on their phone, no one was truly engaged.’

Interestingly, even Grade 11s- who never experienced the ban- noticed changes. One spoke about how the younger grades ‘actually talk to each other now’ and that lunchtime feels more social compared to before.

Of course, we are still a generation raised on dopamine hits and various memes. 100% of responders agreed this unconditional ban should have exceptions- a popular suggestion was allowing use during break and lunchtimes, or allowing use of communication apps to find friends. That sounds fair- even optimism to a point becomes irrationality.

Even teachers have noticed the near-instantaneous change. When interviewing Ms. Burton, a mentor, she told us that PSE actually runs smoother now because they no longer lose time reminding students to put phones away. It’s a small thing, but sometimes those add up.

A grievance amongst students that this policy punished the many for the sins of the few. When asked about this, Mrs. Burton acknowledged the concern but framed it differently- not as judgement, more of a short-term discipline measure to help the whole cohort reset. Irrespective of whether you agree with the policy, it is refreshing to hear the reasoning behind this policy was grounded in empathy rather than authoritarianism.

And that’s really the heart of it: the ban, for all its rough edges, wasn’t designed to punish- at least not in the way we first assumed. It was meant to interrupt habits before they became integrated into us, to force a kind of reset many of us would never voluntarily adhere to. And whether we like admitting to it or not, it definitely worked. Even students who disliked the policy conceded that it has, at the very least, made school feel more communal, a little less like a collection of individuals orbiting around their own screens.

Of course, this isn’t to say the policy is flawless. If anything, the abundance of suggestions for exceptions and the inexistence of anyone supporting the ban in its entirety shows how strongly students crave a middle ground but are still open to change. A phone policy that protects focus without eroding convenience, and one where trust isn’t replaced by complete destruction, but also recognizing our age and responsibility. 

But perhaps that’s the natural evolution of something like this. Every system starts blunt before it is refined. The ban isn’t meant to be the end goal, merely a first draft. It’s not absolute; amendments can still be made. And now that we’ve proven we can survive without our phones for seven hours a day, this opens the door to the next steps, building a policy that blends both worlds.

If the past few months have taught us, as a cohort, anything, it’s that we’re far more adaptable than we gave ourselves credit for. Because we can live without flicking our phone open to check for notifications, we can facilitate interpersonal communication. The ban isn’t designed to be a cage, but scaffolding, training wheels, before we can be trusted with complete freedom. If we strip away all the irritation and inconvenience, what’s left is something strangely hopeful. 

Perhaps we’ll all be better off if we listened to Mrs. Burton’s advice- that this isn’t a ban per se, but rather a nudge, a reminder that sometimes, the real world is worth looking up for.