A poor substitute for parents

This June, YouTube sensation Ms. Rachel went beyond her normal preschool fare to release a “Happy pride” reel on Instagram. It wasn’t her first foray into public controversy. That came earlier this year when she launched a painfully one-sided fundraising campaign for children in Gaza. More typical though are her videos that teach babies how to talk. But even Ms. Rachel’s purely instructional videos aren’t benign. The best of them displace that essential human connection, between mother and child. For all of human history, language—and values—have been transmitted face to face, voice to voice, parent to child. Screens are changing that.

At first glance, Rachel Accurso is every new parent’s dream. A former preschool teacher, she started her YouTube channel in 2019 to help her son who was diagnosed with a speech delay. Today her “playful, research-backed videos” have 15 million subscribers. Her approach to teaching babies how to talk—with close ups of her mouth and pauses for babies to mimic what she says—is “recommended by speech therapists and early childhood experts,” according to her website. Ms. Rachel’s “Songs for Littles” are catchy and have a way of getting stuck in your head.

When it comes to learning, I guess that’s part of the appeal. And boy, is she appealing. She has 11 billion total views. She also has a line of children’s books and toys, and as of January, four of her videos are streaming on Netflix. With so many views, I can’t help but wonder how many homes leave Ms. Rachel on continuous play.

It’s hard to resist the lure of an electronic babysitter, especially when it’s educational. Accurso’s two Master’s degrees in early childhood development and music education leave parents “feel[ing] confident that she's offering quality entertainment,” says Good Housekeeping magazine. The next best thing about her, they say, is the sheer volume of her output: “she has a ton of videos up on her YouTube channel, so whenever [parents] need a break they can just queue one up and enjoy a few minutes of peace.” But even the best content, with no controversial subplot, is sub par.

In P. D. Eastman’s classic, Are You My Mother?, a newly hatched bird goes in search of his mother while she’s out getting worms for him to eat. He meets a cat, dog, cow, jet plane, and earth mover. To each he asks, “Are you my mother?” with disappointing results. Not until the digging machine puts him back in his nest does he finally see another bird. She says to him, “Do you know who I am?” “You are a bird!” he says, triumphantly. “And you are my mother!”

Like the little bird, babies are designed to bond with their mothers and fathers. What will be the result of a generation bonding with their screens?

How will young children weaned on colorful, upbeat, expertly produced Ms. Rachel videos respond when their own mothers try to hold their attention, or attempt to read aloud to them?

Daily Express columnist Kelly Smith talks about the effects Ms. Rachel had on her two-year-old. “My usually hyperactive toddler was transfixed, utterly mesmerized by the vibrant colors, repetitive tunes and relentless energy on the screen.” After a few weeks of streaming the show, however, she noticed a “significant change” in her child. “Whenever we tried to turn off Ms. Rachel or switch to something else, we were met with ear-piercing screams, flailing arms, and thrashing about on the floor—as if we had taken away an addiction.”

In 1999, the American Association of Pediatrics issued a firm "no screens before 2" advisory but lifted it in 2016. NPR reported that the decision was based on new evidence and changing habits. The American Psychological Association says “screen time research has been less than definitive” in part because the technology is so new. They’re beginning to find, however, that “the youngest children don’t learn well from screens.” They say “screens aren’t an effective teaching tool for the baby and toddler set.” What’s worse, “they could displace the kinds of face-to-face interactions that actually help young kids learn.” The only way to make sense of screens, and of the rest of the world, says APA, is to have help from a “physically present adult”—preferably Mom or Dad.

Ms. Rachel says she "loves to teach and loves your wonderful family!” The problem is that regardless of what’s on a screen, screens themselves are notorious for disrupting countless families. They create barriers between parents and children of all ages. Georgene Troseth, a psychologist at Vanderbilt University, says children learn better from a person who is present with them than a person who is on a screen, “even if it’s the exact same person doing the exact same thing.”

The best content on a screen is a terrible substitute for Mom and Dad. The mind-to mind-connection of language development is too precious to delegate to a digital stranger. Ms. Rachel is not merely showing the mechanics of forming words but disrupting the relationship that forms with in-person learning. When parents put their phones down, look in their babies’ eyes, and give them their full attention for conversation, they’re not just teaching them how to talk, they’re doing what screens never can. They’re showing them what it means to be loved.