Social media, in many quarters, it the new bugaboo. Decried as addictive, pernicious, damaging, dangerous, or any other epithet; depending on what media you read, it would seem that venturing onto any social media platform—particularly for children—is analogous to wandering around Mordor.
In Florida, a proposed law would make it illegal for anyone under 16 to have a social media account.
In New York, Mayor Adams has launched a lawsuit that alleges that social media platforms are responsible for the youth mental health crisis.
Also in New York, a family is suing TikTok and the MTA because a young person was killed subway surfing and they litigants blame the poor child’s “addiction” to social media and the desire to achieve fame through posting videos of him doing dangerous acts.
The “Kids Online Safety Act” is being proposed in Congress, and has the support of more than 60 senators, and is designed to combat what is being called, “the negative effects of social media.” Should you care to, you can read the bill here.
I could go on.
Of course we are concerned about children, and we mourn the tragedies that have occurred, but simply blaming social media does not solve the problem. Think of the generations of children who grew up in challenging situations, were bullied, or lonely or rejected by families for being LGBTQ+ in the years before social media.
There are several inherent flaws in all of this.
First, there appears to be a believe that all children are in need of rescuing, that all social media interactions are negative and/or potentially harmful.
Second, the language in all of these bills is vague, and terms such as “mental health” or “addictive design” are not defined. That vagueness makes these laws virtually impossible to apply fairly or equitably. Should they pass they are open to challenges on these grounds alone.
Third, platforms are asked to measure and assess aspects of use that appear to be unknowable. How, for example, is a platform to be able to assess “the extent to which a platform is likely to be assessed by minors?”
Similarly, as noted above, the bill assumes all children are the same. Platforms are asked to evaluable “reasonably foreseeable risk of harm.” It assumes that things like time on the platform, autoplay, and so forth will result in compulsive behavior. These may for some kids, but not for all. To put this in terms of drinking, not everyone who takes a drink becomes an alcoholic.
Fourth, much of the language is redundant with the current COPPA Act, and even that language is unclear.
And we won’t even get into the constitutionality of these laws.
What we have, essentially, is a lot of grandstanding that blames the medium but doesn’t solve the problem. As above, it’s like saying the gin is responsible for the alcoholic. Still, there are a lot of headlines being made, and people are sounding righteous, but the problems are not resolved.
To be fair, the DSM has recently listed gambling as an addiction, and several therapists have told us that there is a move to have videogaming and platform use considered as well. These used to be considered compulsive behaviors rather than addictions. What’s changed is that rather than a foreign chemical introduced into the system—as booze or drugs—the addictive chemical is organic in the form of the dopamine that comes from winning a game or other online validation. Hence, it fits in the revised idea of chemical addiction. That’s fine, but not everyone is an addict, nor is everyone at risk of becoming an addict.
I want to go back to my first point because it has relevance for the toy industry. There are far more young people having positive experiences on social media than horror stories. There are joyful stories, connections made, friendships that blossomed during the pandemic, and great ways for kids to play.
Social media has, in many cases, been a boon for the toy industry. It’s comparatively inexpensive versus TV advertising. It’s an effective way to create community around a product or a brand. It can actually inspire kids to connect and communicate in positive ways. Just take a look at Zigazoo.
Today’s media-savvy kids love to communicate via video, and if the history of the toy industry teaches us anything, it’s that trends a media tend to age down over time. The solution is not to remove the substance but to train children to use it appropriately—for parents and caregivers to step in and exert control. You don’t give a toddler a highball, for instance. And now, you should cue up Angela Lansbury because this is “a tale as old as time.”
The concern for toy companies, however, is that with a vague law with ill-defined parameters, it may be safer to avoid social media altogether to avoid the potential for litigation. Some of the current lawsuits beg the question. For instance, if a child imitates an action done in a video by a person using a toy who is not affiliated with the toymaker and the child who watched the video is injured, is the toymaker liable? Anyone who has been around the toy industry for any time has seen any number of suits that on their face seem ridiculous…but end with a large settlement to avoid a trial.
Perhaps the best thing that will come out of this bill should it become law is a provision for ongoing research into usage patterns and the effects of social media. However, they aren’t asking about, peace of mind, social connection, or learning. They want to know about eating disorders, substance abuse, depression, and a whole slew of negative outcomes. Obviously, the goal would be to minimize negative outcomes, but by assuming there are no counterbalancing outcomes, the research is skewed from the get-go. But research is an issue for another day.
What we can do now is watch, wait, and try to give kids the best experiences possible—what the toy industry does best.
