Banning ownership outright confuses the device with the rules around it. Imagine a 12-year-old who walks home past dark and uses a phone to call a parent or share location—that's a real safety tool, not a toy. Or a kid with a medical condition who needs a parent reachable during the school day. The other side's concerns about distraction and screen time are fair, but the practical fix is parental controls, time limits, and school phone policies, not a blanket ban. A ban also pushes kids toward borrowed or hand-me-down phones with fewer safeguards.

Here's a surprising number: Common Sense Media found tweens average nearly five hours of screen media a day, so removing one device doesn't solve distraction. My opponent's worry about games and videos is fair. But a kid can do that on a school tablet or family laptop too. The practical fix is parental controls, app limits, and school phone policies, which still let a 12-year-old walking home alone call for help. A ban mostly pushes kids toward unmanaged hand-me-down phones with worse safeguards.

Picture a 12-year-old whose after-school bus is cancelled and who now has to wait alone at a dark stop; a map in a backpack can't tell a parent the pickup changed or call for help if a stranger approaches. My opponent's mental-health worry is fair, but a blanket ownership ban is a blunt tool aimed at a problem of use, not possession. Schools and parents can enforce time limits, app blocks, and no-phone-in-class rules while still allowing a basic phone for safety. Banning ownership mainly pushes kids toward unmanaged hand-me-downs.