The Conversations That Never Happen

When we talk about phones interfering with family conversations, we usually picture someone looking at their screen while another person is trying to talk to them.

That's certainly part of it. But I've started wondering about something else.

What about all the conversations that never happen in the first place?

My boys are teenagers. They're perfectly happy spending time in their rooms listening to music, watching videos, or doing whatever else they're doing on their phones.

Sometimes I'll ask a question and get absolutely no response. Not because they're deliberately ignoring me, but because they've got headphones on and genuinely didn't hear me.

If there's something important we need to discuss, I'll make sure the phones are put away and I have their attention.

But what about the conversations that aren't important?

The random observation. The funny story. The question that pops into my head. The conversation that starts with absolutely nothing significant and somehow turns into something interesting.

Those are the conversations I'm less likely to interrupt someone for.

If I walk into the family room and one of my boys is watching television, I might sit down next to him and start talking. That happens fairly often.

But if he's on his phone, wearing headphones, completely absorbed in whatever he's doing, I might just keep walking.

Nothing bad happened. Nobody argued. Nobody was rude.

We just missed an opportunity to talk.

And I wonder how often that happens in families without anyone really noticing.

Being Together Isn't the Same as Being Present

There's actually research that helps explain why phones can change the quality of our interactions.

In a 2018 study published in the Journal of Experimental Social Psychology, researchers examined how smartphone use affected people spending time together.

In one experiment, groups of friends and family sharing a meal at a café were randomly assigned to have their phones accessible or put away. Participants reported enjoying the experience less when phones were available, partly because they felt more distracted.

The researchers also examined people's everyday social interactions and found a similar pattern: phone use during face-to-face interactions was associated with greater distraction and lower enjoyment.

That doesn't mean every glance at a phone ruins a conversation. But it does suggest that our devices can compete with something we genuinely value: enjoying the company of the people we're with.

There's also a term researchers use for ignoring someone in favor of your phone: phubbing, a combination of "phone" and "snubbing."

I don't know that we needed a new word for it, but I certainly recognize the behavior.

I really dislike having a conversation with someone who's constantly checking their phone.

It can feel like they're participating in two conversations at the same time. They're technically listening to you, but you know you don't have their full attention.

And I think most of us recognize that feeling.

It's not necessarily that the other person doesn't care about what we're saying. But their behavior can make us feel that way.

Research on phubbing has found associations with lower relationship satisfaction and poorer experiences of connection. Of course, much of this research is correlational, so it doesn't establish that phones alone are responsible for those outcomes.

Still, the underlying idea makes sense to me.

When someone gives us their attention, it communicates that what we're saying matters.

And when their attention keeps drifting back to a screen, it can communicate something very different.

Whatever Happened to Doing Nothing?

I'll admit something: I'm not particularly good at being bored.

Waiting in line at the grocery store? Perfect opportunity to check my phone.

Sitting in a waiting room? Same thing.

Commercial break during a television show? I might as well see what's happening on my phone.

Every now and then, I'll actually challenge myself to stand in line somewhere without pulling it out. I'll leave the phone in my pocket and see how long I can go.

Which is a pretty ridiculous challenge when you think about it.

But it makes me realize just how accustomed I've become to filling every spare moment with something.

I grew up in a world where we didn't have that option.

If you were sitting in a doctor's waiting room, you might pick up a magazine. If you were standing in line at the grocery store, you might read the headlines on the magazines near the register.

Sometimes you just stood there.

And every now and then, you'd strike up a conversation with someone standing next to you.

My boys have never really known that world.

They've grown up with something to watch, listen to, read, or play whenever there's a moment of downtime.

I'm not suggesting that being bored automatically makes someone more social or creative. And I certainly don't think every quiet moment needs to become an opportunity for personal growth.

But I do wonder what happens when we eliminate almost every moment of doing nothing.

Because sometimes doing nothing creates an opportunity for something else to happen.

Maybe you notice something interesting. Maybe you ask a question. Maybe you start talking to the person sitting next to you.

Or maybe nothing happens at all.

But at least there's room for the possibility.

The Social Skills We Learn by Actually Being Social

One of my biggest concerns about phones isn't even what happens at home.

It's what happens at school.

I think back to all the time I spent talking with friends before school, between classes, at the bus stop, and after school.

Those weren't necessarily meaningful conversations. Most of them probably weren't.

We joked around. We argued about stupid things. We disagreed. Sometimes someone got upset. Sometimes someone said something they shouldn't have.

And we had to figure out how to deal with each other.

Now, when I drive past a bus stop with middle school or high school students, I often see kids standing separately, looking down at their phones.

Of course, that's just an observation. I don't know what those kids were doing before I drove by, or how much they talk to their friends during the rest of the day.

But it makes me wonder.

How many of those little interactions are being replaced by time spent on a screen?

And if some of those interactions are disappearing, what opportunities are kids losing to practice navigating relationships?

We don't develop social skills simply by learning what we're supposed to do.

We develop them through experience.

We learn how to disagree by disagreeing. We learn how to listen by listening. We learn how to handle awkward situations by occasionally finding ourselves in awkward situations.

Not every interaction goes well. That's part of the process.

And while phones allow teenagers to connect with friends in ways that weren't possible when I was growing up, I don't think every kind of interaction is interchangeable.

A text conversation isn't quite the same as looking someone in the eye when you disagree with them.

Sending a message isn't quite the same as having to respond to someone in real time.

That's part of why I've always insisted that my boys order their own food at restaurants.

Whether we're sitting down with a server or walking up to a counter, I don't order for them.

They need to look at another person, communicate what they want, answer questions, and occasionally deal with something not going exactly as expected.

It's a small thing.

But those small experiences add up.

And the more I think about it, the more I wonder whether we should be just as intentional about creating opportunities for conversation as we are about teaching kids how to communicate.

Parents Aren't Immune

Before this starts sounding like another article about everything teenagers are doing wrong, I should probably acknowledge that I'm hardly immune to any of this.

I've made a conscious effort to limit some of my own phone distractions.

I don't have the Facebook app installed. If I want to use Facebook, I have to open the website and log in.

I've turned off most notifications because I don't need my phone demanding my attention every time something happens.

We also have a family rule that phones don't stay in bedrooms overnight. My wife and I charge ours in the office, and the boys are expected to leave theirs out of their rooms as well.

But I have my habits.

I enjoy listening to podcasts and YouTube videos, and I frequently have headphones on. I also have a few puzzle games on my phone that I play more often than I probably should.

And when I'm out to dinner and feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, I definitely wonder who it is and whether it's important.

So I'm not pretending I've mastered this.

In fact, research on parental technoference—the ways technology interrupts interactions between parents and children—suggests that adults' device habits deserve attention, too.

If I want my boys to be present during conversations, I need to think about what my own behavior communicates.

And there's another reason this matters.

Kids learn a lot about communication simply by watching us.

If we're constantly checking our phones while they're talking, what are we teaching them about listening?

If we're always wearing headphones, how approachable do we seem when they want to tell us something?

I don't think the answer is that parents should never use headphones or enjoy something on their phones.

But I do think it's worth noticing when our habits make us less available to the people around us.

Making Room for Conversation

I'm not suggesting that every spare moment needs to become a meaningful family conversation.

Sometimes it's nice to sit quietly, relax, or play a game on your phone. I certainly do.

And I understand why parents hand their kids devices at restaurants. I did it for years, and honestly, sometimes I was grateful for the peace and quiet.

But I do wonder what might happen if we were a little more intentional about leaving some of those moments open.

Maybe the next time you're waiting for dinner at a restaurant, everyone puts their phones away.

Maybe you sit down next to your teenager without competing with a screen.

Maybe you ask a question that has nothing to do with homework, chores, or what needs to get done tomorrow.

The conversation might be awkward. Your teen might give you a one-word answer. Someone might complain that they're bored.

That's okay.

Not every conversation has to be amazing.

But every conversation is an opportunity to practice something.

Listening. Asking questions. Explaining an opinion. Understanding someone else's perspective. Simply enjoying another person's company.

And those opportunities are worth making room for.

Want to Give It a Try?

If you're not sure what to ask, that's exactly why I created the free 7-Day Food For Thought Challenge.

Each day, you'll get one thought-provoking question to explore with your teen, along with a little guidance to help turn their answer into a real conversation.

No lectures. No right or wrong answers. Just a few minutes to put the distractions aside, get curious, and discover something about the person your teenager is becoming.

[Take the Free 7-Day Food For Thought Challenge]

Because sometimes the first step toward a better conversation is simply making room for one.