Moajungshi Menon
In today’s fast-changing world, a worrying question confronts parents, teachers and society at large: are we raising intellectual human beings or merely robots and zombies? Children are surrounded by screens, schedules, scores and systems that reward obedience and output, often at the cost of curiosity, empathy and independent thought.
Education, which should ignite minds, is increasingly reduced to routine learning and exam performance. Students are trained to memorize, replicate and comply. Creativity is trimmed to fit syllabus; questioning is discouraged because it disrupts timelines. Slowly, unknowingly, we begin to value grades over growth and marks over meaning. The result is a generation efficient at following instructions but hesitant to think beyond them—like a robot in action, zombie-like in spirit.
Technology, though powerful and useful, has also deepened this crisis, and today, it is quietly harming our children in the most vulnerable years of their lives. A heartbreaking reality of modern parenting is that mobile phones are placed into the hands of children barely one year old, not for learning, but for silence. A glowing screen becomes a substitute parent so that adults can work without interruption. What feels like a small, harmless act of convenience is, in truth, a slow theft of childhood. Early childhood is a sacred phase when a child’s brain is shaped by voices, eye contact, touch, lullabies, stories and simple conversations. This is how speech is born. This is how emotions are understood. But when a screen replaces a parent’s face, when cartoons replace conversations, the child listens but does not respond, watches but does not communicate. Slowly, painfully, the damage appears. Words come late. Expressions remain unclear. Emotions stay locked inside. And then comes panic.
Today, we see an alarming rise in speech delays, attention disorders and social withdrawal among very young children. Parents who once relied on mobiles for peace now find themselves running from hospital to hospital searching for speech therapists, counselors and treatments. What is tragic is that many of these struggles were preventable. No therapy can fully replace the lost hours of human interaction, the warmth of a parent’s voice or the security of real presence. Excessive screen exposure does not just delay speech, it weakens patience, kills imagination and numbs emotional sensitivity. Children grow restless without screens, aggressive when devices are taken away and disconnected from real relationships. Technology meant to serve humanity has begun to silence our children before they even find their voice. When screens become babysitters and convenience becomes priority, we risk raising a generation that is visually stimulated but emotionally empty, connected to devices, yet painfully disconnected from themselves.
At home, many parents, often out of love and fear, overprotect and over plan. An increasing number of parents measure success only through marksheets and the dream of a government job. From a very young age, children are pushed into a narrow definition of achievement: to score high, secure a stable job and fit into society’s expectations. In this process, individual skills, creativity and natural talents are sidelined. A child who can paint, who is good in music, thinks innovatively, leads or empathizes is often told these qualities are secondary, even useless, unless they translate into grades or job security.
This marks-centric upbringing leaves little space for nurturing manners, ethics and values. Many children today grow up knowing how to compete but not how to cooperate; how to succeed but not how to serve. Respect, humility, honesty, patience and compassion are rarely taught intentionally, as they are assumed to develop automatically which they do not. When parents are constantly busy chasing academic milestones, moral guidance takes a back seat. As a result, we increasingly see children who are academically sharp but emotionally insensitive, confident in exams but careless in behavior. A life without struggle produces comfort but not character. Without responsibility, moral grounding and reflection, young minds grow dependent, not decisive.
Society too shares the blame. We celebrate toppers but ignore values; we glorify success stories without asking what kind of humans those successes represent. Rarely do we ask whether our children are kind, morally and socially responsible. In chasing careers, we sometimes forget conscience.
But this path is not irreversible. We can choose to raise humans, not machines—children who think critically, feel deeply and act responsibly. This begins with education that encourages questioning, homes that nurture dialogue and communities that value integrity as much as achievement. Children must be allowed to fail, to ask ‘why,’ to imagine, and to care.
If we want a future led by leaders and not lifeless followers, the responsibility begins with us today. We must choose to raise children who are emotionally strong, morally grounded and confident in their individuality. This means valuing character as much as careers, ethics as much as excellence and humanity as much as success. By giving our children time instead of screens, guidance instead of pressure and trust instead of fear, we can still reclaim what is being lost. The future does not need perfectly programmed individuals; it needs compassionate thinkers, courageous voices and responsible citizens. Let us act now not out of fear but out of hope, so that the next generation rises not as robots or zombies, but as conscious, capable human beings. Otherwise, one day we may wake up to a society full of efficient workers and silent souls, and realize too late that we didn’t raise a generation, we programmed one.
