Social Media’s Growing Harm to Children Raises Questions on Regulation and Ban

Social media platforms are repeatedly presented as instruments of connectivity, creativity and empowerment. However, when their cumulative impact is assessed through the lenses of public health, democratic functioning and, most importantly, the wellbeing of children, the reality appears far more troubling. Increasingly, evidence indicates that these platforms, in their current form, inflict greater harm than benefit. This compels a difficult but necessary question: should they continue to exist as they do today — or at all?

For decades, advocates of unrestrained market freedom have sidestepped three basic questions: what genuinely serves human wellbeing, what constitutes essential need as opposed to artificially created demand, and whether limitless profit-making should be permitted at the cost of social and psychological damage. The consequences of ignoring these questions are now evident across societies.

The rise of social media platforms such as Facebook, Instagram, micro-blogging services and large online gaming ecosystems represents one of the most far-reaching social shifts of the 21st century. These platforms have transformed communication, politics, commerce, culture and even patterns of human behaviour. While often defended as tools that democratise expression and expand opportunity, a growing body of research shows that their overall impact is increasingly negative, particularly for children and adolescents.

Supporters argue that social media gives ordinary citizens a voice, allowing marginalised groups, small entrepreneurs, artists and activists visibility long denied by traditional media. They also credit these platforms with enabling rapid information exchange, disaster-response coordination and global connectivity. Digital gaming is similarly defended as a source of recreation, stress relief, mental stimulation and even professional opportunity through competitive play.

These benefits, however, are largely limited and exceptional. They rely heavily on individuals exercising self-control, critical thinking and disciplined use of time — qualities that these platforms steadily weaken. Social media and most digital games are built around business models that thrive on keeping users engaged for as long as possible, turning attention into profit.

Features such as endless content feeds, automatic playback, constant alerts and cycles of social approval activate the same behavioural patterns seen in gambling. Children and adolescents, whose emotional and cognitive development is still underway, are especially vulnerable. Unlike alcohol or tobacco, these platforms are promoted aggressively with minimal age-related safeguards, despite mounting evidence of long-term harm.

When a product knowingly exploits psychological vulnerabilities on a mass scale, describing it merely as “entertainment” becomes ethically indefensible. Extensive studies link excessive social media use to anxiety, depression, loneliness, body-image disorders and reduced self-esteem, particularly among young users. Internal findings from Instagram, later made public, acknowledged that the platform worsened mental health outcomes for teenage girls, yet no meaningful corrective measures followed. These risks have been thoroughly examined in the book The Anxious Generation, which documents the profound psychological costs of these so-called digital conveniences.

Beyond individual harm, social media steadily erodes real social bonds. Superficial online interactions replace deeper human relationships. Families often sit together physically while remaining mentally disengaged. Community ties weaken, empathy declines and social trust frays.

Digital gaming, particularly platforms driven by aggressive monetisation and immersive design, produces similar outcomes — isolation, sleep deprivation, academic decline and behavioural problems. More alarming is the distortion of public discourse. Micro-blogging platforms reward outrage, simplification and polarisation because emotionally charged content attracts greater engagement. Accuracy and context are sacrificed for speed and sensation. These platforms facilitate large-scale misinformation, propaganda, election interference, online vigilantism and public shaming, weakening institutions without offering credible alternatives. What was promised as democratised speech has instead descended into digital mob behaviour.

The economic cost is equally severe. Billions of productive hours are consumed by passive scrolling and compulsive gaming, yielding little lasting value. While a small minority earns from content creation or gaming, the vast majority serve as unpaid contributors to corporate profit. Societies already struggling with unemployment, educational gaps and skill shortages cannot afford mass distraction as a default way of life.

The strongest case for prohibition concerns children. They cannot meaningfully consent to addictive systems. Early exposure alters attention spans, emotional regulation, learning ability and social development. Teachers increasingly report declining concentration, reading capacity and patience among students raised on short-form digital content. A society that bans child labour, alcohol and narcotics on developmental grounds cannot logically permit unrestricted access to psychologically addictive platforms.

A blanket ban, however, raises legitimate concerns — misuse by authorities, underground platforms, technological evasion and free-expression implications. The internet is now deeply embedded in economic and informational systems, and abrupt prohibition could cause disruption without addressing underlying demand.

Yet imperfect enforcement is no argument against regulation. Dangerous substances are not legalised simply because prohibition is difficult. In their present form, social media platforms and many digital games demonstrably cause more societal harm than benefit. Their incentives remain fundamentally misaligned with human wellbeing and democratic health. Whether a total ban is warranted is a policy decision, but prohibition for children below a defined age is imperative. Equally urgent are strict limits on addictive features, greater transparency, legal accountability for mental health and social harm, and recognition of these platforms as public-health and social-risk products.

If such reforms prove politically or commercially unviable, then a ban ceases to be extreme and becomes rational. Civilisations are ultimately judged not by the sophistication of their technologies, but by whether those technologies uphold human dignity and promote wellbeing rather than exploit human weakness. By that measure, social media and addictive digital gaming today fall dangerously short. As the familiar maxim reminds us, the most basic question is not what is best — but who decides what is best.

(Vijay Shankar Pandey is a former Secretary to the Government of India.)