There’s a parenting crisis happening right now.
It’s not lurking in the shadows, nor is it confined to some far-off place. It’s right here. In your home. On the device sitting on your kitchen counter. In the glow of the screen in the bedroom down the hall, where the light is still on long after midnight.
The algorithm is raising an entire generation of children — and it is doing a spectacularly terrible job.
The numbers are staggering:
- 40% of high schoolers report persistent feelings of sadness or hopelessness.
- 20% of teenagers have seriously considered suicide.
- 9% have attempted suicide.
- Teenage suicide rates have climbed by 57% between 2007 and 2017, paralleling the rise of smartphone adoption.
These aren’t just statistics. These are real kids. American kids. Maybe even your kids.
And yet, the Church — the one institution that should be standing in the gap — has been disturbingly quiet.
That silence ends now.
What the Algorithm Is Really Doing
Here’s the thing most parents don’t fully understand: Social media algorithms aren’t neutral.
They aren’t just showing your child what they enjoy. They’re not simply connecting them to friends or offering harmless entertainment. They’re designed — carefully, deliberately, and with billions of dollars in research behind them — to maximize one thing:
Time on platform.
That’s the product. That’s the goal. And your child’s developing mind is the raw material.
To keep your child glued to the screen, the algorithm doesn’t show them what’s good for them. It shows them what will keep them scrolling. And what keeps people scrolling?
Anxiety. Comparison. Outrage. Insecurity. The desperate, exhausting need for external validation.
The algorithm takes these emotions and amplifies them. It feeds your child a highlight reel of other people’s lives and invites them to measure their own against it. It quantifies their worth in likes, shares, and comments, creating an endless loop of dopamine hits and self-doubt.
The result? A generation of kids who are overstimulated but emotionally undernourished. A generation that sees silence as threatening and boredom as unbearable.
“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” — Romans 12:2
The algorithm is the pattern of this world. And it’s after your child’s mind.
What God Says About the Children in Your Life
Here’s the truth: You don’t have to be a parent for this to be your responsibility.
Scripture makes it clear that the protection and formation of children is a community assignment.
“Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.” — Proverbs 22:6
“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them.” — Matthew 19:14
And then there’s this one:
“Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.” — Matthew 18:6
That’s not exactly a soft, easy sentiment. Jesus wasn’t playing around when it came to protecting children. He spoke about it with a ferocity that’s hard to find in His words on other topics.
The algorithm isn’t a literal millstone. But it’s a system designed to exploit the vulnerabilities of developing minds for profit. And the adults in the room — parents, grandparents, teachers, mentors, pastors, coaches — are the only ones who can stand between that system and the children we love.
The platforms won’t protect them. Congress is moving at a snail’s pace.
But you don’t have to wait for anyone else to act.
You Are the Counter-Programming
Let me say this clearly:
You can’t out-engineer the algorithm. You can’t out-innovate Meta. You can’t create a screen more addictive than TikTok.
But you can do something the algorithm will never be able to do.
You can show up. In person. Consistently. Without an agenda.
You can sit down to dinner with the phones in another room. You can go for a drive and let the conversation flow naturally, the way it always used to. You can sit on the porch with them, doing nothing, and let them learn that boredom isn’t something to fear.
You can ask real questions — not the surface-level ones, but the kind that make them stop and think. And then you can listen. Not to the first answer, but to the second one. The real one.
You can be the voice that tells them their worth isn’t tied to their follower count or their engagement rate. You can remind them — over and over, as many times as it takes — that they are not an algorithm’s product.
They are made in the image of God. They are known. They are loved. And nothing on that screen can change that.
That’s counter-programming. And it works.
This Weekend, Take a Step
You don’t need to wait for a new law to pass. You don’t need to stage a protest. You don’t need to delete every app in one fell swoop.
Start smaller. Start now.
- Put the phones away during dinner. Not just theirs — yours too.
- Ask one real question. Something that invites them to open up. Then listen.
- Go outside together. Take a walk. Ride bikes. Sit in the backyard. Let boredom do its job.
- Pray with them. Not just for them, but with them. Let them hear you talk to God about real things.
The screens will still be there on Monday. The algorithm will still be running.
But this weekend, this Friday night, Saturday morning, or Sunday afternoon, you have a window.
Take it.
The Church’s Role
The Church has always been at its best when it stands between the vulnerable and the predatory.
This is one of those moments.
Not with picket signs. Not with anger or outrage. Not with another culture war that leaves everyone exhausted and divided.
With presence. With covenant. With the simple, profound act of showing up for the kids in your life and refusing to let their formation be outsourced to a machine that has no soul.
The algorithm doesn’t care about your kids.
But you do.
And that makes all the difference.
“See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven.” — Matthew 18:10
Let’s take this seriously. Let’s take them seriously.
Because the stakes are too high to stay quiet.