5 Lessons From Labor’s Social Media Ban Flop
Canberra built a digital fence. The kids found the gate.
Canberra built a digital fence. The kids found the gate.
Well, that worked a treat.
Australia’s world-first under-16 social media ban was meant to protect children, put Big Tech back in its box and show the rest of the world how clever Canberra can be when it gets serious. Three months later, a BMJ-published study found that 85 per cent of Australians aged 12 to 15 were still using social media. So much for that.
In the end, the kids did what kids have always done. They found a way around the rules. Fake ages, borrowed accounts, workarounds, old phones, whatever it took. Anyone who has ever tried to stop a teenager from doing something with a device could have seen this coming from half a mile away.
Now the Albanese Government is responding in the usual fashion. Bigger fines. Stronger powers. More paperwork. Another grim-faced announcement about holding the platforms to account. Maximum penalties are set to double to A$99 million, and the eSafety Commissioner is being handed more power to demand internal documents from tech companies.
That may sound tough in a press release. It does not change the fact that the ban has already been made to look silly by the very children it was supposed to stop.
Here are five lessons from this great regulatory flop:
This is the embarrassing bit, and no amount of ministerial spin can dress it up.
The Australian Government, with all its departments, regulators, advisers, lawyers, consultants and communications staff, has been outfoxed by teenagers with fake birthdates and a decent grasp of phone settings.
The ban was sold as a hard line. In practice, it looks more like a digital speed bump. If 85 per cent of 12-to-15-year-olds are still using social media three months after the great national crackdown, then this is not a policy success that just needs more time. It is a policy failure hunting around for a better headline.
Parents know how this works. Tell a teenager “you can’t do that” and half of them hear it as a challenge. Put the rule online, and you have turned the challenge into a group project.
The Government says the platforms are not doing enough. Probably true. But did anyone honestly expect otherwise? These companies are built to capture attention, collect data and turn human weakness into revenue. They did not become global giants by helping parents raise calm, well-adjusted children who put the phone down at dinner.
They are not civic institutions. They are not youth workers. They are not sitting around worrying about whether your child is getting enough sleep before school tomorrow. They are companies looking to make money.
Expecting them to enthusiastically police their own customers was fanciful. Whatever handbrakes they put on their platforms, their business model remains their business model.
When a law does not work, the modern politician rarely says, “Maybe we got this wrong.” That would require humility, and humility is not exactly thick on the ground in Canberra.
Instead, the answer is to expand the scheme. More penalties, more demands, more investigative reach, more authority for the regulator. The public gets told this is about keeping children safe, and most people, quite understandably, want children kept safe. That is how these things usually start.
The problem is that powers created for comforting reasons have a habit of wandering off into other areas. Today it is underage social media accounts. Tomorrow it is harmful content. Then misinformation. Then whatever phrase some activist, consultant or departmental committee has decided to make fashionable this month.
Australians should be careful here. The eSafety Commissioner may well say she needs proper tools to investigate breaches, but giving bureaucracies wider powers is easy. Getting those powers back later is the hard part. Government never lets a failed policy go to waste.
No regulator can replace a parent. That is the part nobody in politics wants to dwell on for too long, because it points to a deeper problem than platforms and passwords.
Children are being exposed to toxic content, addictive design, bullying, pornography, self-harm material and the bottomless rubbish tip of algorithmic entertainment. That is real. Any parent who has glanced over a child’s shoulder on a bus, in a shopping centre, or at the kitchen table knows it is real.
But we did not get here simply because Mark Zuckerberg is greedy or TikTok is creepy. We got here because screens have been allowed to become babysitters, pacifiers, classrooms, playgrounds and status symbols all at once.
Too many homes are exhausted. Too many schools are distracted. Too many communities are thin and disconnected. Parents are working longer, paying more, worrying more and then being told by the same political class that broke half the country’s habits that a regulator will now tidy things up. It will not.
A fine cannot teach discipline. A compliance notice cannot sit with a child and say, “Enough, put it away.” That is family work. It is hard, boring, repetitive work, which is why politicians prefer announcements.
Labor is in charge of the crackdown, so Labor wears the failure. Fair enough.
But the Coalition should not start polishing its halo. Both major parties have spent years building the same basic machine. When society gets messy, write a law. When the law does not work, empower a regulator. When the regulator struggles, increase the penalty. When the penalty fails, blame someone else and call it leadership.
Australians were promised child protection. What they have received is another reminder that Canberra is very good at announcing things and far less impressive when those things have to work in the real world.
Yes, Big Tech should be held accountable. Yes, children need protection. Yes, platforms should not be allowed to profit from the psychological manipulation of minors and then shrug when the damage shows up in classrooms, homes and GP waiting rooms. But a country cannot outsource moral responsibility to an app, a regulator or a minister standing in front of flags.
The kids got around the ban. The politicians got another talking point. And parents are still standing there, phone in hand, trying to do the hardest job in the country.
“The nine most terrifying words in the English language are: I’m from the Government, and I’m here to help.”
– Ronald Reagan
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