Why My 13-Year-Old Is Pro the Social Media Ban

Teenagers already understand this ban better than the people enforcing it.

Thank the lord for our cat Nutmeg, because otherwise our teenagers would spend entire car rides walled off behind their headphones. Nutmeg is the one topic that reliably cracks them open. A miracle of a one-year-old Burmese acting as our conversational Trojan horse.

The conversation starts with my 11-year-old’s beef with a girl at school who’s apparently spreading rumours and now receiving what my daughter considers adeservedcold shoulder. Then my 13-year-old jumps in to express his hatred for his science teacher; an ancient woman (according to him) who is sweet as pie to parents but apparently tyrannical with students.

And then, because we’re already in the flow, I ask:“So how are your friends dealing with the social media ban coming up?”

Without missing a beat:

“Everyone’s sharing the free VPN already.”

He says it with pride. That adolescent smirk I recognise immediately because I used to wear it too. That facial expression that says:I get this world better than adults think I do.

Now, we’ve always had a family rule: no social media until at least 16. It’s just been our norm. I never really measured how that shaped them compared to their classmates.

But I didn’t expect what came next.

Both kids, in their own ways, were…pro-ban.

Not because they’re anti-tech. Not because they’re obedient angels.

But because they’ve watched their friends unravel under the weight of Instagram and TikTok in ways they themselves haven’t had to experience. They sit on the outside, observing the distress instead of living in it.

There’s nuance though. Of course there is.

My 13-year-old is furious about YouTube being lumped in. Rightly so. It’s not just memes and rabbit holes; it’s educational, curious, constructive. He sees the difference in a way policymakers apparently don’t.

And regardless of what the government bans, he’s already figured out a workaround.

When there’s a will, there’s a VPN.

Here’s where my conflict creeps in.

I’m 35, parenting a 13-year-old. Most parents of kids his age are around 45. My generation grew up inside the rise of tech and we saw the risks early and cut them off before the algorithm could colonise our kids’ brains. Older parents, understandably, weren’t as close to it.

So in one sense:

The ban acts like an educational slap for parents who genuinely had no idea what their kids were swimming in.

A wake-up call.

A line in the sand that some parents needed external help to draw.

But it’s ablunt instrument, and that’s where it loses me.

The government’s framing feels less like comprehensive care and more like political theatre, something decisive-looking in an election year. A neat headline. A performative solution.

What’s missing?

• prevention

• education

• digital literacy

• understanding online radicalisation

• mental health supports

• programs that actually teach kids what to doinsteadof just what not to do

And the tone politicians are using…

It’s infantilising.

It treats teenagers like fragile, helpless creatures with no agency.

(Meanwhile those same kids can legally be arrested, but apparently can’t be trusted with TikTok. Make it make sense.)

So yes… I’m conflicted.

I can see how this might benefit future generations.

I can see how parents might finally have a reason to engage.

But the approach feels clumsy.

Punitive.

Politically convenient.

A smarter government would build resilience.

This one seems more interested in building headlines.