More than a decade ago, when the People’s Partnership Government provided laptops to students entering secondary school, it was seen as a wise and progressive thing to do. It was reported that 95,000 laptops had been distributed.
I witnessed something then that had startled me at many levels. This is actually a neighbourhood story in a nutshell.
A young man frequented the street; he seemed homeless. He was muscular and strong; he spoke quickly, eating up his words in a loud rush that was unintelligible. He would do odd jobs, and people took advantage of his simple nature.
He would ask me if he could wash my car, help out with my gardening. He liked doing both, and he was good at it, though he was naturally clumsy and careless. I often gave him food.
He was almost always high on weed, and he would disappear sometimes for weeks. That would be when he was in jail for theft. I bombarded him with questions about himself. He’d had a rough childhood. He didn’t have any schooling, and he couldn’t read or write.
One day, I saw him sitting under the mango tree on the corner with a laptop. Mystified, I stopped and looked. He was watching porn.
I had no idea where he’d got the laptop. It was probably stolen, but I was intrigued by how he had been able to navigate his way to porn-land. There’s more, of course, but this will have to do for now.

As the nation has again tuned itself into the latest promise of laptops for students, I thought about him and the improbable way he had appropriated this device. I feel there is nothing inherently wrong with providing laptops to youngsters, but it cannot be purely a matter of putting devices into young hands without guidance and training.
I’ve had various laptops and desktops for decades; I am still an ignoramus when it comes to the multitude of functions they can provide. I know this generation is far more attuned to the culture of the computer—nonetheless, this cannot be simply a consumer transaction without conditions.
There are so many things to take into consideration. It’s important to find the right balance between fully entering a digitised world and enabling children to learn the kind of critical thinking that allows them to process information.
Take the case of Sweden, a country whose education system is acknowledged to be among the best. In 2009, their government chose to go the whole hog with digital tools (tablets and computers) in classrooms.
Even toddlers were included in this massive shift in educational strategy. Despite its higher than average literacy rate in Europe, “educators and professionals noticed multiple negative side-effects from using screens in classrooms.”

A recent article on iGlobenews’ website noted that students “began to suffer in essential areas such as reading and writing, and the back-lit screens on computers and tablets were found to reduce students’ ability to concentrate”.
Now, after 15 years, the government has announced “it will be changing from entirely digitised classrooms to a combination of digital and traditional learning methods, such as textbooks.”
Globally, the push in education has been towards preparation for the digital world. The USA, China and Japan have surged forward in this direction, committing substantial resources to related programmes.

Three years ago, China created the Smart Education of China platform—a digital library of courses, materials and tools for educators and students.
Seven years ago, Japan set up a Global Innovation and Gateway for All programme. This USD 4.4 billion plan was meant to provide each student with a high-speed internet connection and to allow teachers to develop interactive lessons.
Despite all the resources being poured into the enterprise of educating humans to function in the cyberspace world, it has not been a smooth transition.
“Only 30% of Japanese students use their provided devices daily, and teachers have noted difficulties adapting their lessons and style to a digital format.
“To resolve these issues, the Japanese government has established an advisory board to prepare teachers better and has allocated additional funds for the procurement of PCs and digital devices for students.”

These endeavours are investments in the future, worthy of emulating, but it comes down to understanding that these are attempts to chart a way forward and will inevitably face challenges.
An enterprising government has to have the political will to support the transition with the kind of training that both educators and students will need.
There has been movement in both directions with regard to the usage of devices in schools (and outside). A study by the Organization of Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) recommended limiting the use of phones at school.

Greece, Italy, the Netherlands and Germany have either implemented or are mulling it over.
My concern is that our circumstances are not full of resources to support a free-handed distribution of laptops. We need to find a balance: the appropriate division of learning how to use technology, and teaching children how to read books.
Educators will tell you that students arrive at the tertiary level without the capacity to read a book in its entirety. They do not know how to turn actual pages or how to focus for more than a few minutes.
The digital world will require certain skills, but nothing can replace the capacity to think and analyse information. Reading matters.

Vaneisa Baksh is a columnist with the Trinidad Express, an editor and a cricket historian. She is the author of a biography of Sir Frank Worrell.