Let’s be honest—our smartphones have become fifth limbs. They’re the first thing we grab in the morning, sometimes before we even use the restroom or say Modeh Ani, and the last thing we touch at night, as if they are security blankets. And sure, they’re useful. But when was the last time you walked into a room without seeing someone, nose-down, glued to their screen? Exactly. They have increased disconnection rather than connection and invite unhealthy images into our eyes and homes.
You know what I’m talking about: the ding or the vibration—it’s like a dog whistle for people. And before you know it, what starts as “I’ll just check this one message” spirals into a three-hour rabbit hole of scrolling, liking, and wishing your life looked different. We’ve blurred the line between staying connected and just being consumed. So, let’s call it what it is: cell phone addiction. And yeah, it’s real.
This isn’t just some vague issue out in the world. Nope, it’s right here in our frum homes, woven into our tables and carpool lines. Technology is a tool, yes, but one with the power to fray the very fabric of Jewish life when unchecked. The Torah teaches us that our homes should be fortresses of peace and sanctity, but how do we reconcile that with a constant stream of notifications that shatter any semblance of tranquility?
Look, I get it—phones are lifelines, especially in emergencies or for checking in on kids. But when the phone is out before you say “Shavua Tov,” that’s a problem. It’s the small habits that stack up, turning what should be a day of rest into an anxious waiting game for when you can swipe back in. And, just to be clear, if your phone is being used before your Havdalah is said, it’s not just a habit; it’s a lifestyle choice.
Let’s be honest, we might not heed this call, but we can all agree the dangers that face our children. Teens face immense stress from school and the relentless comparisons driven by social media, fueling rising rates of anxiety and depression. Yet, we hand them devices with little oversight, turning phones into bottomless pits of distraction that disrupt sleep and spike mental health issues. And don’t think adults should be off the hook. If your kids see you checking WhatsApp before dinner or filming every moment for your “stories,” what message does that send? Children mimic what they see. So, when you’re scrolling through headlines or “just one more” quarter of a game, don’t be surprised when they do the same.
We’re not just any community. We’re built on values, kedusha, and a firm belief in the sanctity of the home. Yet here we are, bringing the noise of the street right into our living rooms, breaking down the walls of privacy and peace. Tzniyut isn’t just about how we dress; it’s about guarding our inner world, which social media pokes at with relentless precision.
Let’s be honest, we can all do a bit better and here are some suggestions.
No Phone First or Last: Avoid phone use for 30 minutes after waking up and before bed—use a real alarm clock instead.
Tech-Free Meals: Keep phones away during meals to prioritize genuine connection.
Home Reset: Establish a 30-minute no-phone rule after coming home to focus on family time.
Limit Social Media: Cap social media time to 30-60 minutes a day for everyone, including parents.
Havdalah Delay: Wait to use phones until after Havdalah to extend Shabbat’s peace.
Breaking phone addiction is tough, but as a resilient community rooted in strong values, we can model balance. Our children’s mental health, communal peace, and connection to Hashem are worth more than any notification—so let’s choose presence over endless scrolling and choose to connect with what’s in front of us rather than what’s on a screen.