Norway's new screen time guidelines have sparked a public debate, but the most candid reactions are coming from the politicians tasked with setting the country's family policy. Both the current and a former Minister of Children admit they personally struggle to meet the official advice, revealing an average daily phone use of up to seven hours.
Ministers Lead by Personal Example
Child and Family Minister Lene VĂ„gslid said parents should follow the new guidelines from the Norwegian Directorate of Health. She called them good tools for navigating an increasingly digital everyday life. 'We perhaps overprotect children in the physical world and underprotect them in their digital everyday life,' VĂ„gslid stated from her spacious office in the old government quarter. The mother of one and stepmother to two has reduced her own screen time since becoming minister a year ago. She now averages between three and four hours daily.
Her predecessor, former minister and current Member of Parliament Ida Lindtveit RĂžse, tells a different story. The mother of three said she is directly embarrassed by a screen time averaging between six and seven hours per day. 'I could really use screen time advice for adults too,' RĂžse admitted while moving through the Parliament's hallway with her coffee cup, hair clip, and phone always in hand. 'I joke that I'm screen dependent. But it's not just a joke. I use it all the time.'
A Call for Clearer Rules and Role Models
The guidelines, released a week ago, advise on how children, teens, and parents should use smartphones. They have prompted discussions about whether the recommendations are hysterical or relevant and possible to follow. VĂ„gslid directly addressed this criticism. 'There were probably many who thought it was hysterical to introduce the smoking law or the seat belt mandate in their time too,' she argued. She described young people's exposure to phones in the last decade as an experiment. 'I believe we need clearer advice. And we need age limits on social media to protect our children and youth in the digital age we live in.'
When asked how parents are supposed to follow advice that twelve-year-olds should have parental supervision while using their phones, both politicians pointed to the need for personal responsibility. 'We can make ourselves conscious as role models, not least for our own kids, by putting it away more often,' VĂ„gslid said, referring to the phone.
The Personal Struggle with Digital Dependency
RĂžse provided a detailed, self-critical look at her own habits. She noted her screen time was down 34 percent from the previous week but conceded the average remained high. 'A lot of it is probably job-related?' she was asked. 'I do say that I go online as part of the job. But I don't have to do that while I'm eating dinner or with my kids. I acknowledge I have to sharpen up. It's so difficult to put it away.'
Her confession highlights a central tension in the debate. The guidelines are aimed at families, yet the adults shaping policy and public discourse are themselves grappling with the same technology. This creates a gap between official recommendations and on-the-ground reality, even at the highest levels of government.
The Broader Policy Implications
The ministers' admissions put a human face on a national policy challenge. VĂ„gslid's push for age limits on social media platforms signals a potential next step for Norwegian family and digital policy, moving from advisory guidelines to potential regulatory action. Her framing of the issue as one of child protection in a digital experiment aligns with a growing Nordic concern over the impact of social media on youth mental health.
The conversation also shifts the focus from solely controlling children's use to examining adult behavior. The idea that politicians and parents must first address their own habits to be credible role models is a subtle but significant development in the public health messaging. It acknowledges that digital well-being is a whole-family issue, not one relegated only to the young.