Every time a teenage girl posted photos of her self-harm online, messages would flood in telling her to cut deeper, make it bleed more. People told her she wasn’t doing it properly, that she could do better. Her social media feed became saturated with images of other people’s self-harm, each post buried under the same sickening comments. Then, on a bitter winter day, she walked onto the railway tracks near her home. She died almost instantly after being struck by a train. She was the first teenage suicide I reported on, but heartbreakingly, far from the last. And every single case had one thing in common — social media played some role.
I’ll never forget the girl’s face in the photo released by her family as they paid tribute to her. And I’ll never forget how politicians stood by and did nothing. It wasn’t until years later, after 14-year-old Molly Russell died in 2017, that politicians finally started speaking about the dangers of social media. Before that, the silence was deafening — even though they must have known. The NHS knew, coroners knew, police knew, families knew. So why did politicians do nothing?
Why did governments led by Tony Blair, Gordon Brown, David Cameron, Theresa May, Boris Johnson, Liz Truss and Rishi Sunak fail to act? What exactly were they scared of?
Now, one man has decided to step up. Keen to be seen as No Fear Keir instead of No Idea Keir, the Prime Minister has announced a social media ban for under-16s.
It’s expected to become law by the end of this year, blocking access to at least 10 major platforms — including TikTok, Facebook and Instagram — for younger users.
And apparently, I’m supposed to celebrate. Because, obviously, banning a handful of apps will magically save millions of children, make them happier, and send them frolicking through fields like lambs instead of staring at screens… right?
Nope. Not. Even. Close.
What the PM and his inner circle have completely missed is that banning 10 platforms won’t solve the problems that exist both online and offline — especially when there are well over 100 social media networks out there.
The real online issue is the algorithm. Social media companies design systems to keep feeding you more of what grabs your attention. If I spend too long watching videos of people unpacking Chinese takeaway, the next time I open the app I’ll be shown dozens more. If a vulnerable child sees one image of self-harm, next time they could be shown hundreds.
As Molly Russell’s father, Ian, said this week, “sledgehammer techniques like bans” risk creating even more problems. And he’s right — this whole process feels rushed, driven more by politics than by real solutions.
He isn’t the only one raising the alarm. Charities like Barnardo’s have warned governments for years about the dangers of online harm. Their message has been clear: platforms need to be safer by design, where protecting people isn’t treated as an afterthought.
But that would require a government willing to stare down billion-dollar tech giants and tell them that putting profits ahead of people’s lives is unacceptable. It would mean forcing social media bosses to rebuild products with safety at the core.
And yes — it’s hard not to wonder whether some politicians are thinking about life after Westminster, careful not to upset the very companies that might one day offer them lucrative jobs.
Whether that’s true will become clear in time. But what is already clear is that the Government is also failing to tackle the crisis offline. And that matters, because the online and offline problems are deeply connected.
The Government will no doubt have seen findings from a UK-wide study by researchers at University of Cambridge. The study found that between 2014 and 2016, 24% of the 544 suicide deaths among 10- to 19-year-olds involved some form of suicide-related online activity — whether searching for methods or posting about suicidal thoughts.
That may well be one of the studies pushing politicians to act.
But what the research doesn’t show is how many of those children tried to get help offline and were failed. How many were referred for mental health support only to face waiting lists stretching months or years? How many fell through the cracks because they were deemed too unwell for one service, but not unwell enough for the next?
Actually fixing social media, while also repairing the mental health system so children can truly thrive — and maybe even frolic like lambs now and then — would be a genuine political legacy for the Prime Minister.
Instead, he seems content with papering over the cracks until the day he loses a leadership contest.
