Rick is helping his five-year-old daughter get ready for school when he notices a set of small numbers written neatly on her thigh. “What’s that, honey?” he asks. She responds, “Oh, that’s Mommy’s phone number…so I can call her if I don’t feel safe.”

Julie is at an appointment with the custody evaluator and hands her a stack of photos. These include a picture of several beer bottles in a trash can and a wine bottle on a pantry shelf. When the examiner turns to her with a puzzled look, Julie explains, “I think this shows you what a heavy drinker Nate is,” adding, “The girls worry a lot about this, so they take pictures to show me.”

Rachel’s ex, Trisha, is sending frequent texts about things she couldn’t have known about. “I’m surprised you got home so late last night.” “Where did you and the kids go today?” “You’re supposed to let me know if you’re away from the boys for more than three hours.” Rachel doesn’t want to sound paranoid, but she’s starting to suspect that her ex is tracking her whereabouts using her cell phone.

What do these scenarios have in common? They each involve the misuse of a cell phone or other communication device in a manner that is, at best, inappropriate and, at worst, harmful to a child or even a form of coercive control. In addition, they would likely not have occurred in the not-too-distant past.

For professionals working in the field of high-conflict divorce, such situations are, unfortunately, now commonplace — and the numbers explain why. Ninety-eight percent of adults in the U.S. now own a cell phone. The average age for a child’s first cell phone is 11.6, and by fifteen, virtually every child has one. The share of teens who say they are online “almost constantly” has climbed from 24 percent in 2014–15 to nearly half today (Pew Research Center, 2024). Adults, meanwhile, now report spending 5.25 hours a day on an electronic device, up from 4.5 hours the year before (Data Reportal, 2025). 

The ubiquitous use of technology by both adults and children increases the likelihood of it being misused in the context of coparenting. In addition, the more user-friendly technology becomes, the easier it is to weaponize. Despite this saturation, the challenges technology poses for coparenting, as well as for children’s best interests, are rarely addressed in parenting plans or court orders.

More Than Just a Device

Clinically, what we’re describing has a name: technological triangulation — the use of a mobile device to blur boundaries, exert control over a child, alter or disrupt agreements, and pull children into adult conflicts. Phones don’t create triangulation; family systems do. But when misused, phones can make it continuous, invisible, and very hard for a child to escape.

This matters developmentally. Many of the children caught in these dynamics are navigating what Erik Erikson called Identity vs. Role Confusion — the stage, roughly ages twelve to eighteen, in which a young person struggles to determine who they are apart from their parents. That process requires room for privacy, autonomy, and an uncomplicated relationship with both parents. A phone used to interrogate, “debrief,” or guilt a child after a parent-time exchange doesn’t just create conflict between adults — it recruits the child into that conflict and can leave them anxious, enmeshed with one parent, or unable to individuate normally.

Neurodivergent children carry additional risk. They tend to seek screen time more often and are more likely to use a device to self-soothe in response to stress. Further, they may be more susceptible to allying with one parent in an effort to manage their divorce-related anxiety. These factors leave neurodivergent children particularly vulnerable to parental manipulation involving technology. For them, simply taking the phone away is rarely the answer — the structure around its use must be more deliberate.

The Big Seven Misuses of Technology:

1. Virtual parent-time: A parent is allowed virtual parent-time, but when they try to connect, the child is not available, or the device is not charged.

2. The child’s device: One party buys a cell phone and/or pays for its service. They claim the right to control the device, disable it, search it, or restrict the child from using it to contact the other parent on the grounds that they own the device.

3. Monitoring and privacy: A parent installs tracking or monitoring software without notification.

4. Coparent communication: Parties communicate using email, texts, or social media without any guidelines. Conflicts escalate in response to ambiguity, miscommunication, missing records, and emotionality.

5. Digital manipulation and alienating content: A parent sends guilt-inducing messages or content that disparages the other party, calls or texts the child constantly, or posts inappropriate information on social media.

6. Recording and documentation: A parent records phone calls, screen captures virtual visits, or instructs a child to record conversations or take photos at the other party’s home.

7. Gaps in the parenting plan related to compliance issues: An order states what not to do, but no one is assigned to educate, monitor, review, intervene, or resolve disputes before they become new motions.

These factors are helpful to consider in determining whether or not a particular use of technology in coparenting is problematic:

Function — What need is the technology actually meeting?

Boundary — Does it support the child’s independence, or keep the child enmeshed in adult conflict?

Safety — Is monitoring disclosed and protective, or covert and investigative?

It is important for professionals who work with separated or divorced parties to understand how the misuse of technology can undermine coparenting, as well as compromise a child’s well-being. Without a bridge between clinical insight and practical application, however, this awareness is of limited use. As we said in the 1900s, “Good grief, Charlie Brown!” (Really…look it up!) So, what do we do about these challenges?

Practical Application

Each of the above problem areas can be addressed effectively in a well-written parenting plan or court order. In drafting these, it is important to consider the following factors:

1. Intent: What is the intended use of the device or platform being considered?

2. Control: Who controls access, timing, passwords, location, or records?

3. Development: What needs of the child are impacted, for example, attachment, autonomy, privacy, safety, sleep, or school?

4. Remedy: What is the least restrictive, most enforceable response?

An effective plan or order must also be worded in measurable terms and detailed enough to withstand the scrutiny of parties who often look for “loopholes.” For example, vague language such as “the parties shall have reasonable virtual contact with the children” invites exactly the dispute it was meant to prevent — reasonable by whose measure, and decided by whom? A more enforceable version spells out the mechanics: a designated schedule; a minimum session length of fifteen to thirty minutes; a duty of the facilitating parent to ensure the child is available, has a charged device, and has adequate connectivity; and a requirement that any session missed due to a technical failure be made up within twenty-four hours.

The same principle applies to loyalty-pressure language. Rather than a blanket prohibition on “alienating conduct,” a plan can name the pattern and give the parties a test to apply to their own messages. Lines like “I miss you so much I can’t sleep” or “Tell me everything that happened” feel harmless in isolation, but the question that matters is simple: Does this message support the child’s relationship with the other parent, or does it make the child responsible for the emotional state of the parent who sent it? Naming that test — and building it into definitions of prohibited contact — is what turns a well-intentioned aspiration into an order someone can actually enforce.

Five Principles to Draft By

1. Be specific enough to enforce. “Reasonable” and “appropriate” are not measurable terms.

2. Preserve healthy connection. The goal is not to ban phones — it’s to keep them from becoming tools of inappropriate influence and control.

3. Distinguish safety from surveillance. A parental-control app disclosed in writing is different from hidden tracking software.

4. Do not recruit the child. When they are recruited as a messenger, monitor, or evidence-gatherer, a child stops being a child.

5. Build in review, education, and a dispute pathway. Behavioral restrictions alone rarely change the underlying family system. Include interventions that can impact this, such as family therapy, a parenting coordinator, or coparenting classes.

A well-drafted court order that ignores child development won’t work; a therapeutic insight that can’t be translated into enforceable language can’t be applied by the court.

Technology itself is neutral. Its impact depends on the emotional functioning and cooperation of the parents. The goal of every parenting plan is to make digital tools serve connection, not control — because a phone is never “just a phone” in a high-conflict family system. 

Through careful observation and proactive efforts, attorneys and clinicians can be better prepared to address the misuse of technology when it occurs, to the ultimate benefit of coparents and children.

 

This article draws on material from the continuing education presentation “It’s Just a Phone…Or Is It? Managing Technology to Minimize Conflict Between Co-Parents,” presented by Natalie Malovich, Ph.D. (Licensed Psychologist, Court-rostered Mediator, former Custody Evaluator) and Sam Sorensen, JD (Family Law Attorney, Private Guardian ad Litem, Special Master/Parenting Coordinator).

For a full reference list, contact [email protected] or [email protected].

Natalie Malovich, PhD, is a licensed clinical psychologist and credentialed Master Mediator based in Utah and the founder of Aspen Mediation. She brings over 30 years of psychological expertise to conflict resolution, specializing in high-conflict family law, domestic relations, and custody disputes. Her dual background allows her to address the legal complexities of divorce while attending to the emotional well-being of parents and children. She is recognized on the Utah Court Roster for Domestic Mediation and works with the Mountain Mediation Center, handling cases involving divorce modifications, parent-time, and domestic violence issues.

Samuel J. Sorensen, JD is an experienced Family Law attorney, court-appointed Private Guardian ad litem, and Special Master. He is a past member of the Executive Committee of the Family Law section of the Utah State Bar and a frequent presenter and supporter at seminars for the Utah Chapter of the AFCC and Family Law Section of the Utah State Bar. With many years spent as a Special Master and Guardian ad Litem, Sam has a deep understanding of court proceedings and litigation in every aspect of family law. His work as a Guardian ad Litem allows him to deal with cases from the child’s perspective, giving him an understanding of issues dealing with child custody, estrangement, and alienation situations.