As a therapist, I’ve witnessed firsthand how the relentless push toward a fully digital life is leaving people—both young and old—disillusioned. From managing rentals on platforms to everyday tasks like booking a train ticket, nearly everything now requires a screen. This constant dependency on technology comes at a steep price, both psychologically and socially. The digital world, far from being a neutral tool, is ravaging lives and clouding the essence of true existence.
Of course, tech companies will argue the opposite: they’ll tell you that technological progress is not only positive but inevitable. And while this may be true in some respects, I’m not even talking about the emergence of AI here—just the overwhelming demand to be connected at all times.
Take a personal example: a few months ago, I received a letter notifying me of an overdue payment for a new tax imposed on small business owners. I was confused since I never received the initial invoice. When I called the tax office, I was told, “Ma’am, the first invoice is in your online account! Didn’t you see it?” I hadn’t activated the account, so no, I didn’t see it. “Well, then it’s your fault for not checking! It’s mandatory to be online.” I asked, “What about people who don’t have a computer, or whose computer is broken?” The response: “Ma’am, in this day and age, everyone must own a computer!” No comment.
The Plight of Older Generations: Digital Exclusion
Spend five minutes in any public space, like a train station, and you’ll see it—the elderly, often alone, struggling at automated kiosks just to buy a ticket. Their frustration is palpable. This stress isn’t just limited to train stations. Elderly individuals are now expected to manage their bills, renew their IDs, and even file taxes online—often without ever having used a smartphone. It’s a cruel and dehumanizing expectation that only deepens their sense of isolation.
I’ve seen this dehumanization up close. Recently, I witnessed an elderly woman, visibly suffering from severe back pain, arrive at a hospital for an appointment. Despite her discomfort, she was told to scan her own documents—her health card, prescription, and previous test results—at an electronic kiosk. There were three secretaries at the desk, but apparently, their only job was to process payments. It’s a stark example of how disconnected we’ve become from true, human-centered care. It seems we only value people when there’s money to be exchanged.
Even public services aren’t exempt from this madness. Government websites, often poorly designed and unreliable, are a nightmare for those unfamiliar with technology. We’ve essentially abandoned an entire generation, leaving them to navigate a digital maze that only grows more complex with time.
The Youth: Hyperconnected but Socially Isolated
Ironically, while the older generation feels excluded, our youth, born into the digital age, suffer from an entirely different problem: they are often unaware of what they’ve lost. Many young people come to me with a disconcerting inability to navigate real-world social situations. Their lives are so deeply intertwined with digital interactions that their in-person social skills are deteriorating. They can communicate endlessly on social media but struggle to express basic emotions or ideas face-to-face.
I often have to teach young adults how to slow down and think critically about their experiences. We practice breaking down emotions—understanding that feeling “angry” isn’t the same as feeling “betrayed” or “wronged.” These distinctions are crucial, and yet many have never had to make them. It’s not just about emotional intelligence; it’s about reasoning. The basic cognitive processes that allow us to think deeply and clearly are being eroded by the immediacy of digital communication.
Worse yet, education is suffering. In France, academic performance, especially in language and mathematics, is plummeting. I regularly meet university students who make spelling errors in nearly every word, who struggle to form coherent thoughts. The digital age, which was supposed to democratize knowledge, is instead undermining the very foundations of learning. Most of the time spent online is devoted to addictive social platforms, not to gaining meaningful knowledge.
The Rural Reality: Even the Countryside Isn’t Safe
Even in the countryside, where life used to promise a slower pace, the digital push is relentless. Farmers are now expected to complete online paperwork; local communities are moving their bulletins to apps, and rural families are increasingly tied to screens for their daily needs. The charm of a simpler, disconnected life is being swallowed by the encroachment of digital dependency.
What’s happening in rural areas reflects a broader societal issue: the numbing pace of technological adoption is stripping away the peace and quiet that once defined life outside the city. The promise of tranquility is being drowned out by the endless pings of notifications.
A Call for Change: Reconnecting with Real Life
We’ve reached a tipping point. It’s time to question our blind acceptance of the digital status quo. The answer isn’t to reject technology entirely but to push back against its constant presence. We need to create spaces for real-life connection, moments free from screens, where we can rebuild our relationships with ourselves and with each other.
For parents, this is especially urgent. How do we teach our children to be mindful in a world that constantly pulls them toward a screen? One way is by sharing stories of our own childhoods in the ’80s and ’90s—a time when social connections were real and tangible. Back then, we met friends on street corners, at the local library, or the mall. Playtime happened outdoors, and meaningful relationships grew naturally, without the distractions of notifications or the superficiality of likes and comments.
Raising Children with Digital Awareness
To raise children with a healthy sense of digital balance, we need to be role models ourselves. Limit screen time, prioritize family activities, encourage outdoor play and creative hobbies, and most importantly, teach them the value of patience and boredom. These are skills that are rapidly vanishing, yet they are essential for personal growth and development.
You can also use the digital world constructively. Blogging, for instance, doesn’t have to be mindless—it can be a platform for shared learning. Starting a blog about 19th-century literature is worlds apart from spending hours mindlessly scrolling through TikTok.
Explain to your children that, in the ’80s and ’90s, we sometimes had to wait days for a letter, and there was beauty in that anticipation. We organized meetups without constantly checking a GPS. We memorized phone numbers and browsed books for information, which built our memory and attention span—two cognitive skills that are rapidly eroding in the digital age.
Toward a Reconciliation with the Real World
Digital life doesn’t have to be our fate. As parents, educators, and citizens, we can become more conscious of its impact and take steps to restore balance. The revolution we need isn’t about eliminating technology—it’s about reclaiming the parts of life that technology should never replace.
Let’s ensure that the digital world remains a tool, not a way of life. By teaching our children to value real-world experiences, silence, and face-to-face connection, we can help the next generation grow up with a healthy relationship to technology—and, most importantly, to themselves.
