Artificial intelligence has entered our homes quietly. It sits inside the phone a child uses for homework, the application that answers questions in seconds, the game that adjusts itself to a player’s habits, and the platform that recommends what a young mind should watch next. It can write, explain, translate, draw, calculate and converse. For parents, AI may appear to be both a remarkable helper and a source of unease.
The concern is not merely that children may spend too much time before screens. Parents have worried about screens for years. The deeper question is what happens when the screen begins to speak back. A search engine gives information; artificial intelligence can imitate conversation. It can respond patiently at midnight, explain a difficult concept without irritation, and offer what appears to be sympathy. For a child growing up in an increasingly lonely and hurried world, such a system may begin to feel less like a tool and more like a companion.
This is where the parent-child relationship faces a new test. The challenge is not to wage a futile war against technology, nor to pretend that AI can be kept outside the home. The real task is to ensure that artificial intelligence does not replace the human relationships that give children their moral imagination, emotional security and sense of belonging.
A child does not learn trust from an instant answer. Trust grows through presence. It is created when a parent listens to a confused question, waits through an awkward silence, admits a mistake and offers reassurance after failure. AI can imitate some of these responses, but it cannot share the lived bond between a parent and a child. It does not know the family’s memories, sacrifices, anxieties and hopes in the way a parent does. It can produce words, but it cannot carry responsibility for the life those words may influence.
Yet parents should not approach AI only with suspicion. Used wisely, it can become a useful educational companion. A child struggling with mathematics can ask for another explanation. A student learning a new language can practise without embarrassment. A curious mind can explore history, science, literature and the natural world beyond the limits of a textbook. Children who lack access to expensive coaching may find in AI a supplementary source of guidance.
For families in Kashmir, where educational aspirations are often high and resources are not always evenly distributed, such possibilities deserve serious attention. Artificial intelligence can help students revise lessons, organise ideas and discover subjects that may not be taught in depth in the classroom. It can assist parents as well. A mother or father who feels unable to explain a complex topic can use technology to understand it first and then discuss it with the child.
But convenience must not be confused with learning. If a child asks AI to complete every assignment, the immediate problem may be solved, but the capacity to think independently begins to weaken. Education is not simply the production of correct answers. It is the slow cultivation of judgement, patience and intellectual courage. A child must sometimes struggle with a problem, make an error, and remain with uncertainty long enough to discover something. If AI removes every difficulty, it may also remove the experience through which confidence is built.
Parents therefore need to ask not only, “What did AI tell you?” but also, “What do you think about it?” The second question is more important. It invites the child to evaluate, challenge and interpret the answer. Artificial intelligence can provide information, but the family must provide the habit of questioning. A child should learn that an answer generated confidently may still be incomplete, inaccurate or shaped by hidden assumptions.
This is particularly important because children may not understand how these systems work. They may believe that an AI response is neutral simply because it is expressed fluently. They may share personal information without recognising the risks. They may accept stereotypes, fabricated facts or harmful advice because the machine speaks in a calm and authoritative voice. Digital literacy must therefore become part of parenting. Children need to know what information should remain private, how to verify claims, and why no machine should be treated as the final authority on health, safety, relationships or personal worth.
The emotional dimension is even more delicate. Many children today experience loneliness despite being constantly connected. A chatbot that is always available may offer comfort, but it can also become an escape from real relationships. A child who finds it easier to speak to an artificial companion than to a parent may gradually withdraw from the family. The response should not be anger or ridicule. If parents mock the child for confiding in AI, the child may retreat further. The response should be curiosity: What do you talk about? What makes the interaction feel safe? Is there something you find difficult to tell people?
Such conversations require parents to examine their own behaviour. Adults often complain that children are addicted to devices while remaining absorbed in their own phones during meals, family gatherings and conversations. A parent cannot convincingly teach balance while being permanently unavailable. The message children receive is not shaped only by rules; it is shaped by example. If a parent puts away the phone to listen, the child learns that human attention has value. If a parent reaches for a screen whenever silence appears, the child learns that discomfort must always be escaped.
The family home must therefore remain a place where conversation is not automated. Meals, walks, visits and ordinary household routines may appear unremarkable, but they are where children learn empathy and emotional expression. They learn to read a face, interpret a pause, notice another person’s fatigue and respond to someone else’s needs. These lessons cannot be outsourced to a machine. They emerge from shared life.
There is also a danger that parents themselves may begin using AI as a substitute for difficult parenting. It is tempting to ask a system how to handle a child’s anger, anxiety or disobedience and then apply a ready-made formula. Advice can be useful, but children are not problems to be solved through generic instructions. Every child has a different temperament, history and vulnerability. Parenting requires observation and patience. It asks adults to understand what lies beneath behaviour rather than merely suppressing the behaviour.
Artificial intelligence may offer suggestions, but it cannot absolve parents of responsibility. A distressed child needs a trusted adult who can recognise changes in mood, notice what is not being said and remain present when the situation becomes difficult. No application can replace professional help when a child is facing serious emotional or psychological distress. Nor should an AI system be allowed to become the first or only place a child turns in a crisis.
This does not mean that parents should monitor every interaction or invade every corner of a child’s private life. Excessive surveillance can damage trust. Children need guidance, but they also need a growing sense of autonomy. The goal should be to create a relationship in which a child can disclose a mistake without expecting humiliation or punishment. A parent who says, “Come to me if something online frightens or confuses you,” offers more protection than one who relies only on restrictive software.
Rules still matter. Age-appropriate limits, screen-free family time, privacy safeguards and clear expectations around schoolwork can provide structure. But rules work best when they are explained rather than imposed mechanically. A child is more likely to respect a limit when they understand that it protects sleep, attention and well-being, not merely parental authority.
Schools, too, must enter this conversation. It is unrealistic to ask families alone to navigate the ethical and educational questions created by AI. Teachers need support in distinguishing genuine learning from machine-produced work. Students should be taught how to use AI transparently, critically and responsibly. Assignments may need to change so that they reward reflection, discussion and original thinking rather than only polished written answers.
For parents, the most important shift is from control to companionship. They do not need to know every technical detail about artificial intelligence, but they should be willing to learn alongside their children. A parent can say, “Show me how this works,” or “Let us check whether that answer is reliable.” Such openness prevents technology from becoming a secret territory where children and adults live in separate worlds.
The future will not belong to those who reject AI completely, nor to those who surrender to it uncritically. It will belong to families that use technology without allowing it to define their relationships. The child who knows how to operate an intelligent system but cannot speak honestly with a parent is not truly prepared for the future. Nor is the child protected by a family that fears every new tool but offers no guidance on how to understand it.
Artificial intelligence may become more persuasive, more personal and more deeply integrated into daily life. That makes the ordinary acts of parenting more important, not less. Listening without rushing, correcting without humiliating, setting boundaries without abandoning warmth, and making time for conversation will remain the foundations of a child’s emotional life.
The central question is not whether AI will influence children. It already does. The question is whether parents will remain the strongest influence in the lives of their children. A machine may answer quickly, but a parent must help a child decide what is worth asking. A machine may imitate understanding, but a family must teach what it means to care. And while AI may shape the future, it is still human love, attention and responsibility that will determine whether that future is worthy of our children.
( The author is a lecturer in HED and a columnist)
