The annual camping trip to the woods outside Oslo is the highlight of the school year for many 14-year-olds at Granstangen middle school. Bracing forest expeditions and campfire singalongs are all intended to teach them about the great outdoors. But on last year’s school trip, TikTok beat the trees.

“It was a struggle for the teachers to get them off the phone,” recalls Heidi Augestad, head teacher of Granstangen. “To make a bonfire, or test out the fishing gear, you constantly find yourself competing for their attention.”

Fortunately, says Augestad, this year’s trip felt a little more traditional. “It was a whole different thing,” she says. “They were sitting around the fire, working together — actually enjoying themselves. No one was on their phone.”

What changed in the space of a year? The school banned smartphones. In February, Norway’s education ministry laid out guidelines to restrict the use of mobile phones in schools. Today, four out of five schools in Norway — including Granstangen — comply.

Norway may be ahead of the curve but the idea of severely restricting smartphone use for children is gaining traction here too. In May, a group of MPs called for a ban on phones in schools for under-16s, prompting widespread debate. While Sir Keir Starmer has since ruled out a blanket for under-16s, he said he was willing to look at curbs on what children can see online. The most obvious obstacle has often been one of feasibility: is it possible to put this genie back in the bottle?

Norway has managed it. At the start of each day at Granstangen, pupils are expected to hand in their device to their form tutor. From then on it sits in a locked box, or “phone hotel”, until home time.

There are promising signs of progress. Teachers say disturbances are down, and communicating with pupils has become easier. Cyberbullying hasn’t gone away, but at least the school day provides some respite from online taunting.

Teachers at Granstangen say they are having better interactions beyond the classroom too. “I feel like it’s easier now to sit down with the students and talk to them,” says Sondre Aasheim Juul, an English teacher. “When they were allowed mobiles in recess, they usually just sat on them or talked about a TikTok video. Now they answer questions in full sentences, rather than with one word. They’re more curious.”

Lars Olav Andersen, a form tutor, is preparing his 15-yearold pupils for exams this year. He thinks a lot has changed since the ban came in.

“I’ve seen more faces and a lot more smiles. Last year you almost had to go right up and say ‘hello’ to get their attention. Now it’s easier to make contact. Their body language has changed and they are more open towards teachers and each other.”

Though Andersen and Juul support the ban, enforcing it isn’t always easy. Teachers aren’t allowed to search pupils, but if they see a phone in the classroom they can take it. When a child refuses to co-operate, their parents are called in.

Predictably, though, the response among pupils has been far more mixed. Many attempt to get around the rules. At Granstangen, they have been known to try to break into the phone hotel while teachers are out of the room. Others have devised more complex schemes.

“They try to fool us,” says a political science teacher, Havard Maugesten, who works at Apallokka middle school, which began phasing in its no-phones policy at the end of May. “They bring two phones to school, give one in and keep the other in their pocket.”

In an empty classroom, well out of earshot of the head teacher, three teens take the opportunity to tell me what they really think about the policy. “I thought it was unfair actually,” grumbles Wesam Salam, 15. “I didn’t want to give up my phone. I felt unsafe. What if the teacher dropped it? What if I have to call my parents? What if you don’t have your phone and you get kidnapped? You’re a goner.”

Given that Norway is one of the safest societies in the world, some of Wesam’s concerns might sound hyperbolic. However, pupils broadly agreed that there were problems with the ban, particularly for those who struggle to make friends.

“There’s a lot of people who are alone,” says Mina Belkhiri, 15. “Even though we have so many activities for a lot of people, phones are a place to go when you don’t have anyone.”

Sajin Clive, 14, is fidgeting. He has mixed feelings about it. “I think it’s about the person,” he says. “Some want to make friends, but they don’t know how to. Removing phones from the school day gives them a chance, but we also take away their safe space. It’s positive and negative.”

The pupils are also adamant that phones help them learn. Mina cites TikTok videos that jazz up “boring” science projects, while Wesam goes to YouTube for explainers on difficult equations.

Many cite the mixed messages given by schools and teachers as confusing and frustrating. “When we were at home the whole time we were mostly learning on our phones,” says Mina. “You expect us to stop when the coronavirus is over?”

The jury is still out on the effects of smartphones on concentration and mental health, with academics divided on the subject. In his book The Anxious Generation, published this year, the psychologist Jonathan Haidt argued that smartphones were responsible for the surge in mental health problems among Gen Z and called for a ban on the devices for the under-16s. Forty per cent of teenage girls in America who spend more than five hours a day on social media have been diagnosed with clinical depression.

'' I’ve seen more faces and a lot more smiles. It’s easier to make contact

Augestad recognises the pandemic was a tough time for pupils, but is sure they benefit from the no-phones policy. “It’s too harsh to tell them they are wrong, but they are,” she says. “They don’t see the whole picture. It’s one thing using a phone or an iPad to solve an individual task, but we aren’t working individually in school.”

The Norwegian government is chalking the policy up as a success. “We had all this data telling us that students’ wellbeing decreased when smartphones were present,” says Kari Nessa Nordtun, minister of education. “We couldn’t just sit there and do nothing.”

Nordtun added that some Norwegian studies suggest a “decrease in digital bullying, especially among girls” in mobile-free schools.

Britain, where parent-led movements such as Smartphone Free Childhood and Delay Smartphones have been set up, has some notable differences with the Norwegian education system. From an early age, Norway places a high value on educational independence. Pupils are given more leeway to make choices. Granstangen, for example, has no uniform and no homework.

But Augestad believes that, in this case, an edict is no bad thing. “I think that the school system in Norway has been much too trust-based. I think cyberbullying has become a major issue because we haven’t been clear enough. We haven’t set boundaries for how the kids should use their phones. Now, the schools are taking some responsibility.”