“There is also the question of agency. Adolescence is a period when young people begin to form opinions, express themselves, and engage with the world beyond their immediate surroundings. Social media, for all its flaws, is one of the spaces where this engagement happens today. A complete prohibition could cut children off from conversations that shape culture, politics, and social awareness. It may also disadvantage those who use digital platforms constructively, for learning, creativity, or community building.
Perhaps most importantly, a ban risks shifting responsibility away from where it also belongs. Parenting, education, and digital literacy cannot be replaced by legislation alone. Children need guidance, not just restrictions.”
The Goa government’s proposal to study a ban on social media use by children under 16 has triggered a debate that goes far beyond screens and smartphones. At its heart lies a difficult question. How should society protect children in a digital world without overreaching into personal freedom, parenting choices, and the realities of modern life?
The concern driving the proposal is not hard to understand. Social media has become deeply embedded in the everyday lives of children. For many, it is no longer a supplement to social interaction but a central space where friendships are formed, conflicts unfold, and self-worth is measured. Parents and teachers increasingly worry about the impact of endless scrolling, short-form videos, and online validation on attention spans, academic focus, and mental health. Goa’s government says it has received repeated complaints from parents who feel overwhelmed and powerless in the face of these platforms.
In that sense, the proposal reflects a wider anxiety shared across societies. Children today are growing up in an environment designed to capture attention, stimulate dopamine responses, and keep users engaged for as long as possible. Unlike earlier generations, young people now navigate peer pressure, comparison, and judgment not just in classrooms or playgrounds, but in a permanent digital public space. The instinct to draw a protective line is understandable.
Setting an age threshold, such as 16, appears to offer clarity. It signals that childhood should have limits, that not everything online is appropriate for developing minds. Supporters argue that such a restriction could give children space to focus on learning, creativity, and real-world relationships before stepping into the demanding social dynamics of online platforms. They also see it as a way to push tech companies to take greater responsibility for the impact of their products on minors.
However, good intentions do not automatically translate into good policy. A blanket ban raises serious practical and ethical questions. Social media is not a single entity. It includes messaging services, video platforms, discussion forums, and even educational communities. Drawing rigid boundaries around what is permitted and what is not can quickly become arbitrary and confusing.
Enforcement is an even bigger challenge. In a digital ecosystem where age can be misstated with a few taps, ensuring compliance would require intrusive verification mechanisms. That could mean collecting personal data or linking accounts to identity documents, raising concerns about privacy and surveillance. Without robust enforcement, a ban risks becoming symbolic, easily bypassed by tech-savvy teenagers and selectively applied.
There is also the question of agency. Adolescence is a period when young people begin to form opinions, express themselves, and engage with the world beyond their immediate surroundings. Social media, for all its flaws, is one of the spaces where this engagement happens today. A complete prohibition could cut children off from conversations that shape culture, politics, and social awareness. It may also disadvantage those who use digital platforms constructively, for learning, creativity, or community building.
Perhaps most importantly, a ban risks shifting responsibility away from where it also belongs. Parenting, education, and digital literacy cannot be replaced by legislation alone. Children need guidance, not just restrictions. Teaching them how to navigate online spaces safely, critically, and responsibly may be more effective than attempting to keep them out altogether. Schools, parents, and communities have a role in helping young people understand consent, privacy, online behaviour, and the consequences of digital actions.
This does not mean the state has no role. Governments can and should regulate platforms, demand stronger safeguards for minors, enforce transparency in algorithms, and hold companies accountable for harmful content. Age-appropriate design standards, default privacy protections, and limits on addictive features are interventions that target the source of the problem rather than its users.
Goa’s proposal, even if it never becomes law, has opened an important conversation. The danger lies in treating social media as the sole villain and prohibition as the simplest solution. Children need protection, but they also need preparation. The challenge for policymakers is to balance safety with autonomy, and caution with trust. Whether Goa can strike that balance will determine if this debate leads to meaningful reform or a policy that is well-intentioned but out of step with reality.
