Outdoor Education
Tools vs. Toys: A Framework for Tech in the Outdoors
Outdoor Education
Tools vs. Toys: A Framework for Tech in the Outdoors
I recently had the opportunity to speak on a panel at the OFFSEAS Conference titled 'Technology and the Outdoors: Finding the Balance.' While our discussion covered a broad range of perspectives, the session sparked a deeper reflection on how we can move past the binary 'tech vs. nature' debate and start focusing on intentionality. This piece is a summary of those thoughts.
Are Karabiners considered technology?
Think about the gear you packed for your last trip. Which part of it was "technology"?
Most people point to the smartphone in their pocket. They rarely point to the Gore-Tex jacket on their back or the precision-engineered carabiners on their harness. But technically, it’s all technology.
From the moment the first human picked up a sharp stone to skin a deer because their teeth weren't up to the task, we became a technological species. We rely on belay plates instead of body belays and on synthetic ropes that won't rot. We use technology, and we first need to acknowledge that.
So, if technology isn't the issue, what is? Phones are. And, quite frankly, so is the romanticized idea of "going back to basics."
Most people point to the smartphone in their pocket. They rarely point to the Gore-Tex jacket on their back or the precision-engineered carabiners on their harness. But technically, it’s all technology.
From the moment the first human picked up a sharp stone to skin a deer because their teeth weren't up to the task, we became a technological species. We rely on belay plates instead of body belays and on synthetic ropes that won't rot. We use technology, and we first need to acknowledge that.
So, if technology isn't the issue, what is? Phones are. And, quite frankly, so is the romanticized idea of "going back to basics."
The problem with phones
Last April, I led an outdoor education trip with 22 students in Hong Kong. We held onto their phones for nine days. Standing in the airport on the way back to Singapore, I gave them a choice: "Do you want your phones now, or when we land?"
To my surprise, they chose Singapore.
One student looked at me and said, "If we get them now, we’ll stop talking to each other."
Wow! I could not believe this came from them. They had tasted the clarity that comes when the digital noise stops. They were looking for presence.
When a tool steals the experience rather than enhancing it, the solution is simply to leave it behind.
Does this tool help me see the world more clearly, or does it just help me hide from it?
To my surprise, they chose Singapore.
One student looked at me and said, "If we get them now, we’ll stop talking to each other."
Wow! I could not believe this came from them. They had tasted the clarity that comes when the digital noise stops. They were looking for presence.
When a tool steals the experience rather than enhancing it, the solution is simply to leave it behind.
Does this tool help me see the world more clearly, or does it just help me hide from it?
The "Back to Basics" Trap
Then there’s the "romantic" side of the outdoors—the urge to go "back to basics." But we should be asking: Which basics?
Why do we insist on using a compass instead of a GPS, but rarely insist on using a shadow stick instead of a compass?
It often feels like we’ve picked an arbitrary date in history. Because that's what it is - arbitrary! And decided that the gadgets from that era—and only that era—are the only 'authentic' ones. It sounds absurd when we put it this way.
If we aren't careful, we aren't actually teaching students to be competent 21st-century explorers; we’re just asking them to perform a piece of historical reenactment.
Don't get me wrong. There is immense value in the "performance." Starting a fire with a bow-drill or navigating by the stars builds a specific kind of grit. It connects us to our heritage. But we shouldn't confuse heritage with modern problem-solving.
If I’m on a trail where a handheld GPS is the most reliable tool available, is it fair to withhold that literacy from my students? Again, what is the aim? Is it to teach using a compass or to teach solving the problem of location?
Why do we insist on using a compass instead of a GPS, but rarely insist on using a shadow stick instead of a compass?
It often feels like we’ve picked an arbitrary date in history. Because that's what it is - arbitrary! And decided that the gadgets from that era—and only that era—are the only 'authentic' ones. It sounds absurd when we put it this way.
If we aren't careful, we aren't actually teaching students to be competent 21st-century explorers; we’re just asking them to perform a piece of historical reenactment.
Don't get me wrong. There is immense value in the "performance." Starting a fire with a bow-drill or navigating by the stars builds a specific kind of grit. It connects us to our heritage. But we shouldn't confuse heritage with modern problem-solving.
If I’m on a trail where a handheld GPS is the most reliable tool available, is it fair to withhold that literacy from my students? Again, what is the aim? Is it to teach using a compass or to teach solving the problem of location?
Outcome Over Purity
By now, I hope you agree with me that smartphones with social media access are a no-go. But how do we then determine the use of other tech? It’s about being honest about the Outcome we want for the session.
When we choose our tools, we have to move past two common traps:
Think about a kayaking expedition: If the objective is to teach students to cross an open channel with no visible waypoints, adding a deck-mounted sea compass is exactly the right move. It provides the necessary data for a successful crossing.
However, you might decide not to add a sail to the kayaks. Even though a sail increases speed and efficiency, it might be "too much" for the students to manage on top of packing hatches and mastering their rudders. In that moment, the sail is clunky—it creates more noise than value.
Once we recognize that almost everything in our backpack is an invention, the pressure to be a "purist" starts to fade. We can stop worrying about whether a tool is "new" or "old" and start focusing on whether it actually serves the person using it.
Maybe this can be a helpful guiding question:
"Does this tool deepen the connection to the journey, or does it just get in the way?"
When we choose our tools, we have to move past two common traps:
- The Purist Trap: Rejecting a tool simply because it feels "too modern," even when it’s the most effective way to solve a problem.
- The Clunkiness Trap: Using a tool just to be "innovative," even when it breaks the flow of the program or kills the group's energy with unnecessary complexity.
Think about a kayaking expedition: If the objective is to teach students to cross an open channel with no visible waypoints, adding a deck-mounted sea compass is exactly the right move. It provides the necessary data for a successful crossing.
However, you might decide not to add a sail to the kayaks. Even though a sail increases speed and efficiency, it might be "too much" for the students to manage on top of packing hatches and mastering their rudders. In that moment, the sail is clunky—it creates more noise than value.
Once we recognize that almost everything in our backpack is an invention, the pressure to be a "purist" starts to fade. We can stop worrying about whether a tool is "new" or "old" and start focusing on whether it actually serves the person using it.
Maybe this can be a helpful guiding question:
"Does this tool deepen the connection to the journey, or does it just get in the way?"
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