The Government is mistaken – cutting us off the social media is not the best move

Whether we like it or not, social media has woven itself into the fabric of young people’s daily lives. Platforms like Instagram, TikTok and Facebook have become integral part of our communication, learning and personal expression.

In a move that feels both reactionary and misdirected, the coalition Government is investigating a ban on social media for under-16s.

Inspired by the Australia’s social-media ban, this policy would bar young people from apps that, for many of us, have served as a place for kōrero, protest, and safety.

At first, I thought the idea of a ban was laughable, but I quickly realised the real danger of it: the ban would potentially cut out voices for young people’s action groups.

Movements and campaigns such as the School Strike for Climate and Make it 16, which is advocating for teen voting rights, are primarily driven on social media sites.

The Government is ignorant if it believes that social media is a platform used only for harm. We cannot have 16-year-olds fighting for voting rights when they don’t even have access to a platform.

For many Māori, Pasifika and queer youths who feel isolated offline, social media is a place where they go to find their community.

So why is the Government moving to ban this tool that has driven so much social change?

I am of the generation who were raised by social media. That is not an exaggeration.

I have stayed in touch with whānau overseas, followed climate strikes, and found my own identity through queer creators.

I have watched my friends to use the #MeToo movement to speak up about their experiences and seen young Māori and Pasifika voices respond to #BlackLivesMatter with battles for Te Tiriti o Waitangi and equity.

To claim that these spaces are simply toxic overlooks the very real role they play in connecting and empowering marginalised youth.

Furthermore, social media has made journalism more accessible for us. While older generations relied mainly on journalists to relay important world events and information for them, we now consume news and information on social media.

Often, we don’t have to wait for a story to be written, edited and published to know about an urgent event that is occurring – we can now turn to our favourite social media channels to tell us what is happening.

But it is fair to say social media has a dark side. There is a lot of mis- and disinformation and other harmful content.

During COVID, Government research found young Kiwis were the most likely to believe conspiracy theories.

That tracks. We grew up on feeds where anyone could publish something and state it as fact. It makes me wonder what my younger siblings are scrolling through when no one is around to translate.

NZ research shows that last year about seven out of 10 Kiwi teens experienced unwanted digital communication, from harassing messages to explicit content.

Nearly one in five said unwanted digital communication had disrupted their daily lives.

We are often told to brush off these messages. Behind the “sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never hurt me” advice is a very real mental-health crisis.

Heavy social media use has been proven to lead to anxiety, depression, body image issues, loneliness and poor sleep.

For Māori youth, it’s even harder: a recent NZ public-health briefing notes that Māori are disproportionately exposed to online racism and self-harm content online.

Then there’s the rise in online scams and exploitation. According to Netsafe, there has been an 88 per cent spike in teen sextortion complaints since 2019. Predators and trolls lurk on the same platforms that we post our daily lives on.

Even more disturbing threats, like the Blue Whale Challenge, have circulated internationally; it’s a sadistic challenge that preys on isolated teens, convincing them into performing self-harm tasks over 50 days, ending in suggestions of suicide.

(Thankfully, it hasn’t taken hold here, but the warning is global.)

But despite all that, I don’t believe the answer is to ban our young minds from social media and shut down their forms of expression.

Because banning access doesn’t teach critical thinking. It just pushes the problem underground.

We all know from when we were teenager that telling a 14-year-old “don’t do that” rarely works without a rational explanation. A ban might protect some people, but it also risks cutting off others who are already isolated.

For Māori, Pasifika, queer and disabled youth who feel unseen in their everyday worlds, social media can be one of the only places they feel valid and visible.

And yes, social media has shifted journalism itself. We no longer wait for the 6pm news to hear what’s happening in Gaza or Pōneke.

We follow creators and pages that offer real-time reporting, often with the nuance and cultural lens that mainstream media still lacks.

For better or worse, these apps are now part of how we document history.

That doesn’t mean we should leave the tech giants unchecked. Platforms like Meta have a duty to moderate harmful content, protect users, and be transparent.

Parents and teachers need to be empowered to guide our rangatahi, not just restrict them.

But if the government’s only solution is a blanket ban, it’s missing the bigger opportunity: education.

What we really need is digital literacy. Real, honest conversations in schools about body image, online predators, misinformation, and healthy habits.

We need to teach teens not just to scroll, but to stop and think. To recognise when a post is fake, when a DM is dangerous, and when to take a break for their wellbeing.

Instead of cutting us off, teach us how to hold the power of these platforms responsibly.

I’m not naïve. I’ve seen the damage social media can cause. But I’ve also felt the joy of seeing an openly gay couple on my feed and realising I wasn’t alone.

I’ve felt the rush of solidarity during protests. I’ve learned from Palestinian creators and Māori activists alike.

These apps have shown me the best and worst of the world, and I’m a stronger person because of both.

This isn’t about defending giant tech conglomerates. It’s about trusting young people to grow up with guidance, not just restriction.

I don’t believe this is a policy just to make politicians look good; the intentions behind it remain strong and true.

Social media is how I learnt to mature online, and I'm confident that other tamariki growing up will still have access to the same positive experiences that I did. But banning social media for under-16s risks treating all young users as means to an end of social media issues, instead of educating them to better our future.

We can do better.

Let’s empower rangatahi to be savvy, safe, and socially aware. Let’s demand that tech companies do more. But above all, let’s resist the urge to cut young voices out of the conversation, especially when they’ve proven time and time again that they deserve to be heard.