Many argue that technology comes with high social and environmental costs. Others say innovation will save our planet. Can both be right?
A smart phone sits on a dinner table. (Illustration by News Decoder)
This article by student AyanfeOluwa Ayanlade was produced out of News Decoder’s school partnership program. AyanfeOluwa is a student at African Leadership Academy in South Africa, a News Decoder partner institution. Learn more about how News Decoder can work with your school.
The roast chicken is getting cold, but the temperature in the dining room is rising. It isn’t the oven’s fault; it’s the debate over the smartphone sitting on the table.
To an outsider, this might look like a typical discussion about screen time. But in our household, situated between my geography professor father and my computer engineer of a mother, this nightly ritual mirrors the most critical dilemma facing our generation: Will technology be the cause of our environmental collapse, or the only tool powerful enough to stop it?
It is a question that divides academics, policymakers and — most frequently — my parents.
As we move into 2026, the explosion of artificial intelligence has brought this tension to a breaking point. We are producing hardware at unprecedented rates to support software that promises to save the world. It is a paradox wrapped in a silicon chip.
My father the geographer looks at the world through the lens of physical impact. To him, the “cloud” is a dangerous metaphor because it sounds light, airy and clean.
“There is nothing intangible about a data center,” he argues, gesturing with his fork. “It is steel, concrete, water and electricity.”
The tangible cost of virtual lives
My father’s perspective is grounded in the dirty reality of the supply chain. He cites the 62 million tonnes of e-waste generated globally, a number that has only climbed since the United Nations Environment Programme flagged it as a crisis years ago. He traces the lifecycle of our devices: minerals mined in the Democratic Republic of Congo, components manufactured in East Asia, consumption in the West and finally, the dumping of toxic electronics carcasses in nations like Ghana or Pakistan.
“We are treating the planet like a disposable battery,” he says.
For him, the solution is “degrowth,” a slowing down of manufacturing and a strict regulation of consumption. He points to articles arguing that efficiency isn’t enough if total consumption keeps rising. From his side of the table, the newest AI model isn’t a marvel; it’s a carbon bomb.
My mother, an associate professor in computer engineering, sees the same data but draws a completely different conclusion. She views the phone on the table not as a piece of waste, but as a portal to efficiency.
“You cannot solve 21st-century problems with 19th-century thinking,” she says.
The optimism of innovation
My mother’s argument is rooted in optimization. She acknowledges the emissions reports from tech giants like Google and Microsoft that have openly admitted their “Scope 3” emissions (indirect emissions from the supply chain) have spiked due to the AI race. However, she argues that halting progress is a death sentence for the climate fight.
She speaks of smart grids that use AI to balance wind and solar energy flow, preventing waste. She talks about machine learning models that are currently designing new materials for carbon capture and fusion energy — innovations that human minds, unassisted, might take decades to discover.
“To stop innovating now,” she tells me, “would be like throwing away the fire extinguisher because it’s heavy.”
This dinner table debate is playing out on a massive scale across the globe.
While wealthy nations debate the ethics of Large Language Models (LLMs), developing nations often bear the physical brunt of the infrastructure. The carbon emissions from a server farm in Virginia or a manufacturing plant in Shenzhen contribute to a shared atmosphere. The resulting rising sea levels do not discriminate, washing over the coasts of island nations that reaped none of the technological profits.
Recent studies from 2024 and 2025 in the Journal of Cleaner Production highlight this inequity. They suggest that while digital technology can reduce global emissions by up to 20%, the hardware required to do so creates a localized environmental disaster in the countries where the materials are sourced and dumped.
A global disconnect
It is a difficult circle to square. We need the technology to monitor deforestation, optimise agriculture and reduce energy waste. Yet, the act of building that technology requires mining the earth and burning fossil fuels to power the processors.
So, who is right?
As I listen to them, I realise that both perspectives suffer from a kind of tunnel vision. My father’s call for degrowth ignores the reality that billions of people rely on technology for their livelihoods and health. My mother’s accelerationism risks betting the house on future technologies that haven’t been perfected yet, while burning through our carbon budget today.
The answer likely lies in the uncomfortable middle ground, what experts call “sustainable computing.” This means extending the lifespan of our hardware, enforcing right-to-repair laws and demanding that data centers run on 100% renewable energy, not just carbon offsets.
As I clear the table and my parents go to bed, the argument settles into a thoughtful silence. My smartphone is still there, sitting on the tablecloth, a tool of immense destruction but also of immense creation.
The challenge for our generation isn’t to choose between my father’s caution or my mother’s optimism, but to engineer a future where we don’t have to sacrifice the Earth to save it.
Questions to consider:
1. What are “Scope 3” emissions, and why are they so difficult for tech companies to control?
2. How does the lifecycle of a smartphone connect different countries around the world?
3. Do you believe technology will solve more climate problems than it creates? Why or why not?
AyanfeOluwa Ayanlade is a student at African Leadership Academy and a tech enthusiast. As the founder of crushuni.com and the former student government IT representative, he focuses on building digital solutions for his community. When he isn’t coding or writing, he enjoys running, reading science fiction and practicing the flute.