Since starting my undergrad at Carleton University, I have at least one professor each semester who enforces a laptop ban.
“No screens in the classroom,” the professor will say. “It’s distracting for other students. It interferes with your learning.”
I’ve been told time and time again that students who write their notes on paper instead of a screen tend to get better grades.
In my first year of university, I would earnestly listen to the anti-laptop rants of my professors.
Sitting near the back of a 300-person lecture hall, I would see other students on their laptops, online shopping and scrolling through their Facebook newsfeeds.
Meanwhile, I sat behind them with my spiral notebook and ballpoint pen, feeling superior. Taking notes on paper meant I would be thinking critically about what to copy from the slides, that I would be retaining more information. The students who brought their laptops would struggle to study for tests, but I would already have a good grasp on the material.
The key to academic success seemed so simple: keep your screens away.
But after almost four years of higher education, I’m not feeling so great about laptop bans anymore.
There are obvious reasons against a blanket laptop ban in universities. Some students with learning disabilities need accommodations, and even if these students were granted an exemption to the no-laptop policy, they would be visibly singled out in the classroom.
Other times, laptops can be helpful if you need to do a quick Google search on an unfamiliar term the professor has thrown at you.
But beyond that, laptop bans are just plain dumb because we’re all adults in university—instructors and students alike.
Not only am I an adult, I’m also an adult who is paying thousands of dollars each year for higher education. Because I’m paying, it’s my decision whether or not to bring my laptop to class, just like it’s my decision to even go to class.
Sure, there are times when it’s inappropriate to be clacking away on your laptop, obviously not paying attention to the professor, like in a seminar class with less than a dozen people.
But let’s face it: some classes we take in university are not incredibly engaging or even useful. It’s my decision if I want to spend my time more productively by writing an essay in the back of the lecture hall. If I’m not disturbing anyone else, what’s the issue?
Are laptops a distraction in the classroom? Maybe. But I’m paying for the right to be distracted if I want. If I fail a class because I was more absorbed in Twitter than the classroom discussion, that’s on me. As an adult, I can make that choice for myself.
As someone who has been in many laptop-free classes, I can tell you for a fact that students don’t need screens to get distracted. Even with good old-fashioned pen and paper, you can disengage from what the professor is telling the class. In a lecture hall, doodling is just another version of aimlessly surfing the web.
Of course, there are students who will use their laptops in class as an opportunity to zone out rather than participate. These are the people who spend the entire three hour lecture on social media, and who leave without having written a single note.
But that’s their prerogative. They’re paying for the right to pay attention or not.
Photo by Aaron Hemens
