«Gaming is morally the same as sports»

Ash Brandin is a teacher and, under the name The Gamer Educator on Instagram, one of the smartest and most approachable voices on the topic of screen time in families. Instead of spreading fear and warning about dangers, Ash Brandin promotes curiosity, equality, and moderation in the conversation around games and social media. As a parent themselves, Ash explains why it’s worth removing value judgments from discussions about screen time. Ash’s book, Power On: Managing Screen Time to Benefit the Whole Family comes out on August 26, 2025.

Ash Brandin, in a podcast with Adam Grant, you mentioned that gaming was just a normal part of your childhood. What did you mean by that?
I played the violin — and I played computer games. To me, they were equal. It was simply part of my daily life. Technology had no moral value attached to it for me. I thought others would see it the same way — until I realized they didn’t. I was lucky. It wasn’t necessarily the norm in society.

What does it mean to you to view technology or screen time «neutrally»?
I believe many of the battles parents face around screen time today are rooted in cultural ideas — with technology being a key topic. I often draw parallels to food: Many parents around my age — Millennials, now about 40 — are reflecting on how their own relationship with food was shaped. Maybe today they want to teach their children that no food is «better» or «worse», but that all foods have their place — chips as well as broccoli. Broccoli may have more nutrients, but morally, one snack isn’t better than the other.

And what does broccoli have to do with gaming?
It’s the same principle as with a neutral view of food: No leisure activity is morally worse than another. Gaming is no more morally good or bad than playing sports. If a child says, «I like playing Roblox», to me, that has the same value as saying, «I like playing ice hockey». That doesn’t mean they have to spend the same amount of time on each. But both are equally valid forms of recreation.

When did this neutral view of technology start to change — when did the «moral panic» begin?
In the U.S., it started around the 1990s. In 1999, there was the Columbine school shooting. In 2000, a seminal study was published that attempted to link video games to aggressive behavior. The methodology was questionable, but the study received widespread attention. Suddenly, the focus was on the impact of media, including games, music, and movies. Since then, there’s been a kind of ongoing moral panic. Today it’s about smartphones and social media — but the basic pattern remains the same: We search for simple explanations for complex problems.

What do you mean by that?
When our kids are struggling — they don’t do their homework, they’re irritable — we want to find causes. That’s human. But it feels easier to blame screens than to deal with structural problems, our own behavior, or the children’s needs.

«It feels easier to blame screens than to deal with structural problems, our own behavior, or the children’s needs.»

But: Screens do have a special kind of pull — they are different from, say, Lego.
Absolutely. But again: Is broccoli as tempting as chips? No. Why? Because we often treat chips as something special. If I constantly say, «Not too many chips!» I make them special — and my child will focus on them. The same applies to screens. If I say, «You can watch one episode, then we’ll go outside», then it’s simply part of the day — like showering or dinner. And I don’t say, «We have to go outside to make up for the damage we did by watching TV.» I don’t load it with guilt.

But chips, like games and social media, are intentionally designed to keep us consuming. «Normal» activities can’t compete with that. Isn’t it important and right to treat them differently?
Chips are not as nutritionally dense as broccoli, and chips are designed to make us want to eat them. Technology obviously has a parallel to that as well. Your question assumes that treating them differently is mutually exclusive with the morality of those things, and that isn’t true. Broccoli and chips can have the same moral value as food; ice hockey and video games have the same moral value as leisure. They all have a purpose. That does not mean we allow them in the same amounts. Having boundaries around things doesn’t require that we view them with different morality.

What do healthy boundaries look like — without portraying screen time as a «worse» activity than, say, soccer?
We set boundaries for many activities — even if we don’t notice it. If your child wants to play soccer at 11 a.m., but school is in session, you don’t scold them and accuse them of being «addicted to soccer». You just say, «Not now». The same goes for screen time: We can decide when and how long — without moral judgment.

Are fixed schedules helpful or counterproductive?
Fixed schedules are helpful if they are reliable. If a child knows, «I can play for 30 minutes every day», they don’t have to think about it all the time. It reduces pressure.

So predictability is key?
Exactly. When screen time is a normal part of the daily routine — neither a reward nor a punishment — it loses its power as a «forbidden fruit.»

«When screen time is a normal part of the daily routine — neither a reward nor a punishment — it loses its power as a forbidden fruit.»

That seems doable with younger children. But what about teenagers who already have their own smartphones? Parents can’t control usage time anymore.
Yes they can. Caregivers can control – to the minute in some cases – how much time is allowed on certain apps, or on the phone itself. Most devices including smartphones can be controlled by an adult who can set a «Bedtime» for the device, decide what apps are available, whether or not purchases can be made, can get notifications when a new app is downloaded, even control what websites they can access on their mobile browsers.

So the answer is to micromanage my kids devices?
This doesn’t mean I think the solution is to micromanage, but it is not true that the only options are abstinence or complete unfettered access. Think of it as access to something like a bike, or a car. You introduce a bike, how to ride it, you ride together, eventually they ride with friends, then on their own in the neighborhood, then you expand the range they can go to, and eventually they have «total freedom» to go where they want, but we still know that isn’t entirely true. We still will tell them what time to come home, or to call us if they’ll be going somewhere different than planned. If they rode their bike and didn’t come home until after dark we would probably enforce new boundaries around bike riding, and it can be the same with tech.

Many parents fear that screens are addictive. Even we adults often struggle with our own screen time. Isn’t that fear justified?
There are studies on problematic media use. The WHO and the DSM-5 have defined criteria — similar to other addictions. It’s about excessive use, neglecting social contacts or responsibilities. But: Just because we do something often doesn’t mean we’re addicted. I’m not an expert on addiction, so I can only speak personally. When I notice I’m constantly on my phone, I ask myself: What do I need right now? Am I tired, lonely, overwhelmed? These questions help more than guilt.

And what about dopamine? Isn’t the dopamine surge triggered by today’s technologies and consumer options dangerous for kids?
Dopamine is a neurotransmitter — not an enemy. Kids with ADHD, for example, have a dopamine deficiency. They actively seek out things that make them feel good. That’s biology, not a moral failing. If we categorically deny them screens just because they release dopamine, that’s like denying insulin to a child with diabetes. The question is: Why is my child turning to the screen? What is it giving them? And how can we find strategies together to meet those needs in other ways too?

If a child wants to try a new game — how can a parent judge if it’s suitable?
Good question! First: Age ratings often aren’t very helpful. A game rated for 12-year-olds might be fine for a ten-year-old in one family — and not for a twelve-year-old in another. It depends on the content: language, violence, advertising, online interactions.

«Age ratings often aren’t very helpful.»

If age ratings aren’t reliable: Where can I, as a parent, find information about games?
I often use Common Sense Media. They offer reviews of games, apps, movies, books — with input from experts, parents, and kids. I usually read several reviews to get a full picture. You can also filter for aspects like «language», «violence» or «commercialization». There are other ways too.

Such as?
This might sound surprising, but: Try the game yourself! You’ll quickly notice whether it’s suitable for your child and where the pitfalls might be.

Honestly, I don’t feel like gaming myself …
Then watch a Let’s Play on YouTube — search for something like «Fortnite First 10 Minutes» or «Gameplay Review XY». It gives you a quick sense of whether there are ads, in-app purchases, online interactions, and so on.

To be honest: That sounds like a lot of work. More mental load!
Yes. That’s why many parents either say no across the board — or yes too quickly. If you don’t have time right now, be honest: «I need time to check it out. If you need an answer right now, it’s no. If you can give me a week, I’ll look into it.» But keep that promise and really review it. That builds trust.

On Instagram you write: «Screens help the whole family.» How so?
In the U.S. — and maybe where you are, too — many support structures have disappeared or were never there: no safe public spaces for kids, no free childcare, no parental leave. Parents are often on their own. A screen isn’t the problem — it’s a crutch. Maybe I need 30 minutes to cook, to regroup, to survive the day. If my child watches something or plays during that time — and I’m more present and calmer afterward — then the whole family benefits.

So screens are compensating for structural deficits?
To a certain extent, yes. From that perspective, we can see that being able to worry about screen time is a privilege. That’s why I advocate for looking at screens neutrally. If we constantly think, «This is bad, this is wrong», we can’t even see their benefits — and we just blame ourselves.

The 30 minutes while cooking aren’t the problem. But according to the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, American kids aged 8–12 spend 4 to 6 hours daily on screens. How should we as a society respond to that — without moral panic?
The question itself easily leads to moral panic, because we immediately assume that 4–6 hours is a child basically being unsupervised. But in reality, what is that 4-6 hours spent doing? Is that including homework time? Time at school? Reading books on a tablet? If we are really so concerned with the amount that a child is on a device, then we need to target the systemic inequalities that are leading to that overreliance in the first place.

«If we are really so concerned with the amount that a child is on a device, then we need to target the systemic inequalities that are leading to that overreliance in the first place.»

Last question: What could we ask our kids at the end of the day instead of, «How long were you on the iPad?»
I love that question! Instead of: «How long were you on the screen?» we could ask: What did you play today? What was challenging? What surprised you? What was especially fun? Did you learn something new? And then follow up. If they say they played with friends, ask: «What was your role? How did you decide what to do?» Or: «What did you do when you failed?» This way, we learn what kids are actually doing while gaming — problem-solving, collaborating, persevering. And the kids realize: I can talk to my parents about this. Even when things don’t go perfectly.