Cell phone addiction is currently a frequent topic of discussion in media education contexts, particularly as it relates to children and adolescents. Here are just a few examples of relevant press headlines: Swiss television produced a “Kassensturz” special on the issue of cell phone addiction among adolescents.  Although the Swiss health insurance company “Helsana” does not want cell phone addiction to be viewed as a clinical diagnosis, it labels the addiction “nomophobia.” To support this, the company cites studies showing that adolescents spend an average of 3.5 hours on their smartphones during the week and as much as five hours a day on weekends. Very often, teenagers find themselves at the center of such reporting. For example, the “Neue Zürcher Zeitung” reported in detail on November 9, 2025, about 18-year-old Nina Frei, who ultimately ended up in a psychiatric ward: “She spent five to eight hours on her cell phone, and even more on the weekends. She scrolled through lifestyle videos, cleaning tips, Korean music videos, and watched endless TV series. And she couldn’t break away.” This article also emphasizes that addictive behavior among teenagers is “particularly pronounced.”

First and foremost, it’s important to emphasize that the dominance of cell phones in everyday life can lead to problems. Banning cell phones for young children can therefore be a sensible measure. On the other hand, I find it highly unsatisfactory when the entire issue is shifted onto “teenagers.” Even though teenagers often seem particularly interested in technology, that doesn’t mean parents and adults are off the hook when it comes to their own cell phone use.

All you have to do is hop on a train in the morning. It’s dead quiet these days, and the rustling of newspapers—as it was twenty years ago—is long gone. All the adults are constantly scrolling on their cell phones; conversations with one another are almost nonexistent, and the blueish light of smartphones dominates. Social media, too, isn’t just a playground for kids—adults frequent it just as much. Moreover, in the age of digitalization, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to get by without a cell phone and the tickets stored on it. Where else would you even buy a ticket at the counter, and where can you still find dates if you don’t have a smartphone?

There is a key passage in the NZZ article—namely, where the authors quote the girl’s statement that she “can’t seem to break away from it.” But this “inability to break away” is not just a problem among young people. Rather, social media platforms and AI bots are designed to keep users on their sites for as long as possible. AI always formulates its responses very carefully—it doesn’t want to scare its customers away. And in the end, new questions are constantly being asked, which increase the time spent on the site—and, to put it in business terms, “scale” its own demand. In technical terms, this is also described as “stickiness.” All generations are in the same boat here.

It’s not so much the strict bans that are likely to make a difference here, but rather technical regulations that prevent the bots from continuing to pester users. Especially with cheap goods from China, like those sold by Temu, all the games of chance, freebies, and super-cheap deals just end up confusing you.

The song by “Shadow Light Project” subverts the blame placed on the younger generation. It’s more like a family storm brewing, and it doesn’t exonerate any of the voices involved—not even Benny’s, even though for him the bot is a new god.

The New Song

This link will take you directly to the YouTube audio, where you can listen to the song: Yes, there’s a sense of melancholy, but not just with his son Benny.

Linked here from YouTube