As Westminster debates proposals to restrict under-16s’ access to social media -following Australia’s lead and a renewed political urgency – one thing remains strikingly absent from the conversation: the voices of young people themselves.
Parents, politicians, teachers and experts dominate the discussion. Yet those who have grown up online, who understand both the risks and the lifelines social media can provide, are rarely heard.
Can social media be a facilitator of connection rather than harm?
This article was prompted by a public post on LinkedIn by a former Newcastle youth councillor, who shared a thoughtful reflection on their experience of social media during adolescence in response to growing calls for an under-16 ban. It stood out not because it dismissed concerns, but because it held two truths at once: that social media can cause harm, and that it can also provide connection when other support is absent.
As a father of teenage daughters who lived through Covid lockdowns during some of the most formative years of their education, I recognise the anxieties many parents feel. Social isolation, disrupted routines, anxiety and loss of confidence are real. Social media can amplify those pressures, sometimes in damaging ways.
In their post, the former youth councillor described how online spaces both harmed them and helped them. During periods of bullying and withdrawal from the outside world, social media offered understanding and community when none existed offline. At the same time, they were clear about the risks of unrestricted access and how it could become an unhealthy escape.
What is striking is not a rejection of intervention, but a warning about unintended consequences. They reflected that when access was restricted, it did not remove the need for connection, but instead pushed it out of sight, reducing openness with adults and increasing isolation.
This raises difficult questions for policymakers. Managing young people’s engagement with a vast and rapidly changing digital world is challenging for families and institutions alike, particularly when many parents did not grow up with these technologies themselves. Heavy-handed restrictions may offer reassurance, but they can also complicate trust and oversight.
It is in this context that international examples, such as Australia’s recent move to ban under-16s from certain social media platforms, deserve careful attention. While often presented as decisive action, it remains too early to know what impact such measures will have on wellbeing, behaviour or safety. The question is not simply whether bans can be enforced, but what effects they produce, and for whom.
What lessons can we learn from Australia’s ban?
There may be lessons to learn from closely monitoring and independently reviewing the Australian experience over time: understanding not only intended outcomes, but also unintended ones, including displacement to less visible spaces or changes in how openly young people communicate with adults.
Rather than settling the debate, this suggests the need for humility. Education, guidance and prevention are frequently cited as alternatives to prohibition, but how these work in practice – and for different groups of young people – remains uneven and under-examined. Trust, boundaries and support all matter, yet none are straightforward to legislate.
How should we go forward in the North East?
The internet has undoubtedly exacerbated existing problems, from bullying to mental ill-health. But it has also become interwoven with how young people socialise, learn and seek support. For regions like the North East, where youth services and safe physical spaces have been eroded over time, that complexity is particularly acute.
Simple answers are tempting. But the reflections of one former Newcastle youth councillor remind us that young people’s lives rarely conform to neat policy solutions.
If we are serious about their wellbeing, we might begin not by deciding the answer in advance, but by listening more carefully to those living with the consequences.
Before we rush to conclusions, perhaps the better question is not whether to ban or allow, but how to build understanding, trust and safety in a world that is already here.
The reflections referenced in this article were shared publicly on LinkedIn by a former Newcastle youth councillor and are used here to provide context rather than personal attribution.
