A social media ban will not keep young people safe

A social media ban will not keep young people safe | by Heather Paterson | Jun, 2026 | Medium Today’s announcement of a social media ban for under 16s will be welcomed by some people as a bold step to protect children. I understand why. There is a lot about social media that is ugly, harmful and frightening. I am not someone who thinks the internet is all harmless fun or that concerns about online safety are somehow overblown.

I am an active user of social media. I have seen the good and the bad of it, often in the same week and sometimes in the same day.

I have made amazing connections. I have found community. I have run campaigns, shared information, taken part in debates, learned things, found solidarity and spent time in shared online spaces with people who care about the same things I do. Social media has been part of my personal life, my professional life, my activism and my friendships.

I have also had abuse. I have had threats. I have had unsolicited dick pics. I have seen pile-ons, misinformation, cruelty and the way platforms can reward the very worst behaviour.

So I am not naïve about the harms. I just do not believe a ban is the answer.

Social media exists. It is part of the world we live in. It is used in our personal lives, our workplaces, our politics, our friendships, our communities and our campaigns. It is not going away. The question is not whether young people will ever encounter it. They will. The question is whether they will be helped to understand it, navigate it and use it safely, or whether we simply keep them away until they reach 16 and then throw them into it unprepared.

That feels less like protection and more like creating a cliff edge.

We do not take that approach with other parts of life that carry risk. Roads are dangerous. Cars are dangerous. But we do not respond by keeping children indoors until they are 16 and then expecting them to cross a dual carriageway on their own.

We teach them road safety. We teach them the Green Cross Code. When they are small, we hold their hand. Then we walk with them. Then we supervise from a little further away. Eventually, they learn to navigate roads by themselves.

And we do not just put all the responsibility on children either. We have speed limits. We have road signs. We have pedestrian crossings. We require cars to have seatbelts. We prosecute dangerous driving. We design systems to reduce harm because we recognise that safety is not created by telling children to stay away from roads forever.

That is the kind of approach we need for social media.

We need proper digital education in schools. Not a one off assembly, not a scary video, not a vague warning to “be careful online”, but real, age appropriate education that helps young people understand the digital world they are already living in.

Young people need to know how to use privacy settings. They need to know how to report abuse. They need to understand scams, misinformation, grooming, harassment, image based abuse and how algorithms shape what they see. They need to learn how to question what is in front of them, how to spot manipulation and how to think critically.

Online relationships should be part of RSHE. Because online relationships are real relationships. The conversations young people have online can affect their confidence, their friendships, their mental health, their sense of self and their safety. Pretending that all of this begins at 16 is just not credible.

We also need to stop letting platforms off the hook.

Much of what is used to frighten people about social media being unsafe for 13 or 14 year olds would also be unsafe for a 20 year old, a 40 year old or a 70 year old. No one should be receiving death threats. No one should be sent unsolicited explicit images. No one should be doxxed. No one should be stalked, harassed or driven out of public life by abuse.

The answer to that cannot simply be “well, children should not be there.” The answer has to be that platforms must be made safer for everyone.

That means proper moderation. It means meaningful reporting systems. It means consequences for abuse. It means platforms being held responsible when they design systems that amplify harm, reward outrage or ignore repeated dangerous behaviour. It means not allowing companies to profit from engagement while shrugging when that engagement is abuse.

My fear is that a ban could actually make that worse. If platforms can say under 16s should not be there anyway, then what incentive do they have to make those spaces safer for young people? We already know many young people will find ways around the rules. Australia’s experience has shown how difficult this is in practice. Young people are not suddenly going to stop being curious, social or digitally literate because a government tells them not to log on.

And where do they go instead?

If young people are pushed away from TikTok, Instagram or other mainstream platforms, that does not necessarily mean they will all go outside, read a book and have a wholesome offline childhood. Some will find workarounds. Some may move into spaces that are harder for parents, teachers and regulators to see. Some of those spaces may be far more dangerous.

A ban that focuses on the most visible platforms may miss some of the places where the most extreme harm can happen. Sites and spaces like 4chan, Kiwi Farms and some corners of Discord can expose young people to far more dangerous content, harassment, radicalisation or exploitation. If we are serious about safety, we need to think about the whole online ecosystem, not just the apps adults have heard of.

This matters for all young people. But I am particularly worried about what this means for LGBTQ+ young people.

For many LGBTQ+ young people, online spaces are not just entertainment. They can be a lifeline. They can be the first place you see someone like you. The first place you hear the words that explain how you feel. The first place you realise you are not the only one. The first place you find out that there is a youth group, a helpline, a community, a book, a role model or a future.

That does not mean every online space is safe. Of course it does not. LGBTQ+ young people can face huge harm online too. But cutting them off from information and community does not remove risk. It can deepen isolation.

This is especially concerning at a time when LGBT+ education is being restricted, challenged or watered down in so many places. If a young person cannot ask questions at school, cannot talk openly at home and cannot access supportive online spaces, where exactly are they supposed to go?

I think about this a lot because I remember being young and not out.

The internet and social media did not really arrive for me until my late teens. Before that, there was Teletext. I remember there being a dating page with a gay and lesbian section. I was not about to contact some 50 year old gay man at the other end of the country. That was not what it was about for me. But I looked at that page a lot.

I looked because it told me something I needed to know.

There were other queer people out there. Somewhere. Living their lives. Looking for love, connection, friendship, community, whatever it was. They existed. And if they existed, then maybe there was a world beyond the one I was in. Maybe there was a future where I could exist too.

That mattered. It gave me hope, comfort and reassurance at a time when I did not have many other places to find it.

Today’s young people may find that reassurance on TikTok, Instagram, YouTube, Reddit, Discord or somewhere else entirely. They may find a coming out story, a queer creator, a youth group, a local Pride event, a mental health resource or just another young person saying “me too.” We should not be casual about taking that away.

I know many people calling for a ban are doing so from a good place. They are worried about children. They have seen stories of real harm. Some have lived through the worst imaginable consequences of online abuse, exploitation or dangerous content. I do not dismiss that for a second.

But good intentions do not automatically make good policy.

If we want young people to be safe online, we need to prepare them, not pretend the online world does not exist until their 16th birthday. We need to educate, support and supervise. We need to give parents and carers better tools. We need teachers to have the time, training and resources to talk about digital life properly. We need platforms to be forced to design safer spaces and take responsibility for the harm they allow.

A ban might feel decisive. It might sound simple. It might reassure adults that something is being done.

But I do not think it will achieve what people hope it will achieve.

Young people deserve more than being locked out and then left to figure it all out alone. They deserve the skills to navigate the world they are growing up in. They deserve safer platforms. They deserve honest education. They deserve trusted adults who can talk to them without panic or judgement.

And LGBTQ+ young people deserve to know that they are not alone.

That is not a nice extra. For some, it is survival.