Here in Central Massachusetts, the never-ending winter is (finally) over. The days are longer and warmer, with the sounds of summer echoing on our streets and in our backyards. And yet, families can find themselves gathered together but alone, each person absorbed in the quiet glow of a screen.

We have, in many ways, grown accustomed to this. Devices connect us to the wider world, to news, to entertainment, and to one another. But as I’ve written in previous columns, the same technologies that expand our reach can also pull us away from people and meaningful experiences happening right in front of us. 

This summer offers us an opportunity, one that does not require a grand gesture or a complete rejection of technology, but rather a deliberate shift in how we spend our time and attention. I’m talking about an intentional digital detox for families that replaces screen time with time outdoors and digital interactions with real connection.

The goal of such a detox is not some idealized life off the grid or a return to the past. It is intentional, collective use of technology and devices that preserve and enhance our humanity, nurturing habits that sustain our well-being: face-to-face conversation, unstructured and unplanned outdoor play, and the subtle but powerful experience of simply being present with one another.

So, how do we begin?

First, set small, realistic goals. A successful digital detox does not start with a sweeping declaration that all devices will be banned indefinitely. That approach is likely to fail before it begins. Instead, choose specific, achievable targets. For example, designate one hour each evening as device-free time, or commit to screen-free dinners. These are manageable steps that build momentum rather than resistance.

Second, create dedicated, tech-free spaces and moments. As I’ve suggested before, carving out device-free pockets of time, such as mealtimes, car rides, and weekend mornings, helps families reconnect in simple but meaningful ways. These routines do more than reduce screen time; they create dependable opportunities for conversation, laughter, and shared experience. 

Third, replace - not remove. If we take something away, we need to fill that space with something better. Plan a family walk after dinner. Visit a local park or trail. Rediscover low-tech activities like board games, pickup basketball, or even just sitting outside together as the sun goes down. The outdoors offers something screens cannot: unpredictability, movement, and a sense of shared presence that no app can replicate.

Fourth, involve children in the process. Rather than imposing rules from above, invite your kids into the conversation. Ask them what they would like to do if they had more free time. What activities have they been meaning to try? When children help shape the plan, they are far more likely to buy into it.

Fifth, model the behavior you hope to see. This may be the most important step. Children notice not just what we say, but what we do. If we check our phones constantly, what message are we sending them? A digital detox for families must include adults who are willing to set their own boundaries and demonstrate that full attention is a gift worth giving.

Underlying all of this is a deeper point. In an age where artificial intelligence can generate convincing images, voices, and even mimic relationships, our most reliable anchor remains genuine human connection. The conversations we have face-to-face, the trust we build over time, and the shared experiences that unfold away from screens are not just optional or pleasant extras; they are essential to how we understand one another and the world. 

A digital detox, then, is not just about reducing screen time. It is about reclaiming these foundational elements of our lives.

To be clear, there is no single blueprint that will work for every family. Some may choose a tech-free Sunday afternoon. Others might aim for daily outdoor time before any screens are turned on. The specifics matter less than the consistency and the spirit behind them.

What matters is that we try.

As summer begins, I would challenge all of us, my family and me included, to take a small but meaningful step in this direction. Choose a few realistic goals. Stick with them. Adjust as needed. And pay close attention to what changes: the quality of your conversations, the rhythm of your days, the way time feels when it is not constantly interrupted.

We often think of human connection as something that technology provides. But more often than not, it is something technology displaces and cheapens. This summer let’s take it back. 

Dr. Richard Lopez is an assistant professor of psychology and neuroscience at Worcester Polytechnic Institute. He studies the impacts of digital media use on emotions and mental health. He and his family live in Rutland. If you would like to contact him regarding individual or family consulting services that promote neuroscience-informed digital wellness, contact him at [email protected].