In defense of banning screens

Almost all of us would do better in class if we took notes on paper and did our readings from physical books. I will be the first to admit it: I love to take notes with my laptop in class. It stores them all in one place, I do not have to worry about deciphering my writing after the fact and it means fewer things to lug around and keep organized. Heck, I like the (obnoxious) click-clack noise my keyboard makes. Best of all, when lectures get boring, I can check my email, message my friends — maybe even work on another assignment. It’s all about efficiency, right? 

So imagine my frustration when, this semester, my political science course “How to Win the Argument” not only required the purchase of physical books for class, but also banned technology outright. That’s right, no iPads for note taking, no laptops to follow the readings, no nothing. Had we gone back to the Paleolithic Era? 

The first few days were difficult. I had not written with a pen in a long time, so my notes looked more like a doctor’s prescription. There was an urge to check up on other things: What if I got an important email? Had I forgotten about an assignment? What time did class end again? I won’t lie: It was uncomfortable. Though, much like a muscle that has been disused, that discomfort was a sign of positive change. Soon, I figured out that bemoaning my condition did little to help me. Indeed, there was a cure for this boredom and restlessness: following the lecture itself. I forced my attention towards class. It grieves me to say this: It was so much better. 

I left the classroom more engaged and with a deeper appreciation for the content than I previously had. The lack of technology was not just beneficial for me, but also for the wider class dynamic. Students were not able to slink into silence, shielded behind their Macbooks. Classroom discussions were livelier, and the debates between students usually resolved into a consensus. In short, there was a palpable interest in the subject at hand — something that I often find sorely missing in my other classes. When I wrote an essay for my class, I discovered I consulted notes that, for once, were truly useful. Even more surprising, I found I needed to reference them less altogether because the content itself was already lodged in my head. 

This is not unique to me. Countless studies show that taking physical notes in classrooms aids learning and concentration. The mere act of putting pen to paper commits content to memory in a manner that typing simply does not. For all its lauded efficiency, electronic note-taking fails to do one thing effectively: make you remember. Students seem to know this truth already. From a random student sample I conducted, drawing on a pool of 65 people, 73% answered that they could concentrate better in class without technology, while 20% answered it aided them, and six percent said it made no difference. 

While I have fallen in love with leaving my laptop behind for class, I am not arguing for an indiscriminate ban on technology in the classroom. With subjects that center the use of computers (such as Computer Science courses), of course the laptop is necessary. Though even here, their necessity does not detract from their distraction. My friend Liz Bowen ’24.5, a Computer Science major, shared that students’ attention in her classes often strays from the instructed content to games, such as electronic chess, on their devices. 

 If a student has accommodations to use technology in the classroom, they should absolutely be encouraged to do so. More broadly, when it comes to assignments, I believe that technology can help the research and drafting process. But when we are in the classroom, we should maximize our attention spans. For the majority of us, that means no screens. The end goal for everyone is learning, not dogmatic anti-technologism. 

At the end of the day, most courses offered at Middlebury are lecture or discussion-based and do not require the use of computers. Being an active and engaged learner requires a high level of focus on the material, which can be challenged by the attractive distractions of the internet or other applications. While this transition might be uncomfortable at first, I believe our student body would overwhelmingly benefit from taking notes and reading from papers almost exclusively.

Does this mean that every student should print out each reading ahead of class and load up on new books in a frenzy each semester? No! I believe that the student body deserves massive institutional support for physical materials such as readings and books. Supposedly there is a program underway to implement just that, but Middlebury is notorious for the widening chasm between “coming soon” and “arrived.” The college should work with students and professors to ensure that most of the books we require every semester are available for free; students should be able to borrow books on a semester basis and give them back to the institution for the next round. As if to prove this very point, I discovered that the Middlebury Davis Family Library currently only owns a single physical copy of “The Art of Rhetoric” by Aristotle, and it has been checked out until January 2025, leaving every other student in the Classics, English, Political Science, (you name it) departments to either get a digital copy or buy one for themselves. This is absurd. Knowledge should be free, easily accessible, usable and shared. 

As uncomfortable as this switch might be for us, discomfort and the good are not mutually exclusive. I can admit that I do not have the necessary self-control to pay attention exclusively to my lectures if there is a computer in front of me. Social media and highly addictive technology are often the culprits of this deficiency. So why perpetuate these ills in the classroom if we have the opportunity to learn new habits?