School’s out for summer and more parents than ever are secretly spying on their children

My dad wants to ‘AirTag’ me, and I’m 44, writes Victoria Richards. Parental anxiety is real – but by following our kids’ every move, parenting experts say we could be doing more harm than good

For my birthday last month, my dad gave me a pack of AirTags. “You could put one under the mat in your car,” he suggested helpfully. “Or, in the bag you take to work.” What he was really saying, when I read between the father-daughter lines, is that he’s worried about me. He wants to know where I am and that I’m safe – at 44.

That our parents still fret about our wellbeing, even into our forties, shouldn’t come as any surprise. It can feel overbearing, but what it really means is love. And I may eye-roll because I am an adult – as well as a mother to two children of my own – but I get it.

When they’re small, you sleep in fitful bursts, getting up every hour to check they’re still breathing. As they get older, it doesn’t get any better, just different: now, I worry about my 13-year-old daughter walking home with her friends. She looks grown-up (too grown-up), and I feel sick at the thought of her being catcalled or approached by men. I have her location via Find My iPhone as a tab on the homescreen, so I can see where she is at all times.

We had a row last week because she didn’t see the logic of my not allowing her to leave the local golf club at 8pm: “But it’s still light out, Mummy.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that the names that ring through my mind are Sarah Everard, Sabina Nessa, and Zara Aleena – who was murdered close to where we live, three years ago.

But does this fear (my fear) help or hinder my kids from growing up and finding their feet – and their autonomy? How much should we really be tracking our kids online?

There’s more “snoop tech” than ever available to the over-cautious parent out there, from the ubiquitous AirTags to new smartphones designed specifically with mums and dads in mind: the HMD Fusion X1, for example, claims to keep children safe through built-in controls, location tracking and parental approval for messaging and calls – and says it was developed in response to research showing that more than half of children have been approached by strangers online.

Then, there are family safety apps like Life360, which offers everything from real-time location sharing to crash detection if they’re behind the wheel, plus 24/7 emergency help.

One mother I spoke to said a friend was using the app to track both of their 21-year-old sons in Thailand, “which I am forever grateful for – otherwise I’d have no idea where he was, or if he had or hadn’t landed in Tokyo. She keeps a running commentary on where they are via the app while my WhatsApps go unanswered.” Another mum who uses it said she gets notifications of her kids’ whereabouts all day long: when they get on the school bus, how fast it went, when they get to school – and described it as “a great peace of mind”.

Apps like this are not about “tracking”, the makers insist, they’re about building mutual trust. But how do we determine the boundaries between digital spying and smart safeguarding? And is there a difference to the kids?

My son, who’s eight, recently heard the term “helicopter parent” on a TV programme and turned to me to deliver this devastating blow: “That sounds like you, Mummy.” He’s right – and he’s not alone. When I spoke to several women of my age to ask them if they track their children (or would do), the response was overwhelmingly pro-surveillance – and not always upfront.

I know one mum who has a “stealth account” on social media where she pretends to be a teenager, filled with so many memes and odes to Charli XCX that it wouldn’t raise a single pre-teen eyebrow. She uses it on the sly to befriend her teenage kids and their friends, so she can spy without missing an update.

Other mums whose kids are too little to be tracked are planning on it. “I will definitely use AirTags and phone tracking with my kids when they go to secondary school,” Dayna Brackley, mum to two pre-teens, told me. “The kids would know about it. It would be very transparent and I’d explain that it’s for safety.”

Sarah Williams, a doctor with two children under six, says she hasn’t done it yet, but would like to. “This weekend we went camping and it would have been really useful to know their whereabouts when it was food time and to stop me worrying,” she said. “But it has to be done with the child’s knowledge, otherwise it is just spying on them – which I don’t agree with.”

Lucy SM Johnston, an artist, told me she doesn’t use an AirTag now her kids are older because the teenage years are “too chaotic to be consistent”. “Where would I even attach an AirTag to make it worthwhile – a bag, a piece of clothing?” she said. “I make them turn on their location on Snapchat, instead, as that’s the most used app they have. It’s not perfect because they can cheat the system, but it gives me a good idea. It’s all about safety, rather than me micromanaging them. If they resort to “ghost mode” [a Snapchat feature that allows users to hide their location on the Snap Map from other users], the phone gets taken away.”

One mother told me she wouldn’t dream of tracking her kids, who are 13 and 11, because she feels it would only make her more anxious. “For me, the cost outweighs the benefits,” she said. “It would be terrible for my mental health with the temptation to track them constantly, as I lean towards being a worrier. I also think it's atrocious for the young person, always knowing that someone knows where they are – particularly as they get older. They need to start gaining independence, and it undermines that feeling of freedom.”

Kate Tiernan, a mother of three boys aged 22, 14 and eight, told me the whole family shares their locations via their phones. “I used to have timers set for my eldest when the wifi would cut off from his devices, but my middle son is much better at self-regulating,” she said. “I can’t say for sure how much he is ghost-moding for different apps, but as we are big Instagram users, we speak frequently about the issues social media presents. We’ve asked him to remove himself from school WhatsApp groups, too, because of bullying. I occasionally check and review his phone and iPad with him – but I won’t do that much past 16, I imagine.

“My youngest son doesn’t have a phone, and gaming is only allowed in the living room – never the bedroom. He won’t get a smartphone or access on his iPad to apps before 14 at the earliest. He’ll hate us for it, no doubt.”

It’s an ethical minefield, choosing whether or not to track your kids, but I instinctively err on the side of informed consent. If you’re tracking your kids, they need to know about it – otherwise it’s a betrayal like any other (one friend told me that when her 17-year-old found out he was being snooped on, all hell broke loose).

When I spoke to consultant clinical psychologist Emma Citron, she told me that as parents, we need to foster mutual trust and respect with our children, no matter their age, to have the sort of relationship that allows for calm communication and give and take. Crucially, she said we must not hide tracking devices if we choose to use them.

“Most youngsters find tracking intrusive and controlling for good reason – it is,” she told me. “Avoid doing anything behind their back. They will be one step ahead, and it will be very hard for them to trust you with anything. You risk losing the relationship. Youngsters need to learn to make their own decisions with your guidance and input, and you risk cutting that off if you cheat on them and engage in behaviours you are telling them not to do.”

Dr Citron said that if we, as parents, are worried about any specific aspect of our youngsters’ behaviour, we should ask them open-ended questions, starting with: “Is this a good time to chat?”

“Voice any worries about their friendship group, for example, or behaviour, or the time they get home,” she advised. “Explain why you’re upset by it – you’re concerned about the effect during term time on their tiredness levels, say – and agree a time together that seems reasonable and a compromise. Make sure they know how to stay safe – practical tips, such as avoiding going to a coat room upstairs at a house party on their own. Listen (non judgementally) to their opinions – and value them.”

When I tried this with my 13-year-old, she told me stridently that I should trust her, because I’ve taught her to be independent, to make her own mind up rather than following the crowd – and to recognise what might be “inappropriate”. She also told me that the idea of bringing in extra “snoop tech” would make her feel “like a baby”.

Reluctantly, anxiously, I know that she’s right. If I want her to make clear-headed decisions as a young woman, then I need to give her the opportunity to recognise different dangers for herself – and how to respond to them.

“It makes [her] feel restricted and not responsible for [herself] and that you don’t trust me and that hurts,” she added. “I’m trying to handle this in the most mature way possible.”

To which, all I can say is: me too. Me too...