The emotional and spiritual formation of children is not a secondary concern—it is a sacred duty. Yet, in our increasingly digital world, too many parents have unknowingly outsourced this task to screens. When a child is upset, the quickest fix—an iPad or a video game—can feel harmless, even helpful. But new research makes it unmistakably clear: this habit is forming a spiritual and emotional crisis, not a solution.
As Catholics, we are called to protect the dignity of the human person, especially the most vulnerable. That includes safeguarding the hearts and minds of children from anything that diminishes their ability to encounter God, develop virtue, or build real relationships. And screens—especially video games—are doing just that.
According to the largest analysis ever conducted on this topic, published in Psychological Bulletin (2025), screen time is part of what researchers call “a vicious cycle.” Children struggling with anxiety, aggression, or emotional distress increasingly turn to screens—particularly gaming—for comfort. But instead of helping, these digital crutches deepen the problems over time. “Screen use may increase the risk of children developing socioemotional problems, and children with socioemotional problems may be drawn to screens, possibly as a way to manage their distress,” write the researchers from Australian Catholic University and international partners (Vasconcellos et al., 2025).
The problem is not just the content but the replacement of real, grace-filled human experiences. Every hour spent gaming or scrolling is an hour lost to face-to-face connection, to learning emotional resilience, to prayer, or even boredom—yes, even boredom, which teaches patience and creativity. This is what scholars refer to as the “displacement effect.” And it’s not theoretical: the study tracked nearly 300,000 children across 117 longitudinal studies. The damage is measurable and real.
Gaming was singled out as particularly harmful. “Children who played games were significantly more likely to develop emotional and behavioral issues later on,” according to the study. And older children, ages 6 to 10, were especially vulnerable. Unlike toddlers who passively watch videos curated by parents, older kids actively seek out digital escape routes. This freedom becomes a spiritual danger when their first instinct during distress is not prayer, family, or silence—but pixels and noise.
The Church teaches that parents are the primary educators of their children—not only academically, but morally and spiritually. This research makes it clear: allowing screens to become the default comfort tool undermines that sacred mission. When we hand our child a device to stop a tantrum, we may be silencing them in the moment—but we are also teaching them that God, family, and virtue are not their refuge.
Yes, some screen time—especially educational content used intentionally with a parent—may carry minimal harm. But as the researchers themselves note, “The problem isn’t screens themselves, but how they’re being used to fill emotional voids that might be better addressed through human connection and real-world experiences.”
If we are serious about raising saints, then we must be equally serious about breaking this cycle. We cannot catechize a generation that is being quietly discipled by YouTube and Fortnite. The world will not hand us holy children—it will hand us children who are overstimulated, emotionally fragile, and spiritually dulled. If we do not act decisively, we will answer not only to society, but to God.
Throwing away every device is not the solution. But reclaiming our parental authority, reinforcing human connection, and resisting the temptation to soothe with screens must be part of our response. Our children’s hearts are worth the inconvenience. Their souls are worth the fight.
