Australia led the charge on banning children younger than 16 from social media platforms such as Instagram and TikTok, and now much of the Asia-Pacific region — with its young, tech-savvy markets — is eager to follow. The collective push would be impossible for tech platforms to ignore.
Indonesia plans to implement its restrictions later this month, while India’s Karnataka state, home to tech hub Bengaluru, along with Malaysia and Vietnam, have proposed similar rules.
The appeal is obvious. These measures are politically popular and ultra-wealthy Big Tech heads are easy villains. The push also comes as social media giants face their own “Big Tobacco” reckoning at home, confronting thousands of lawsuits that allege their products were designed to hook young users at the expense of their safety and mental health — claims the companies vehemently deny.
Illustration: Mountain People
It has become clear that age limits are good politics, but are they effective policy? They might prove to be a useful stopgap, but they also let governments and tech companies dodge the harder fight.
Despite Meta Platforms Inc chief executive officer Mark Zuckerberg’s complaint that age verification is “very difficult,” blocking a 14-year-old from Instagram might be easier than confronting a billion-dollar-business model. A company that knows its users well enough to sell highly targeted ads, and promises a future of super-intelligent personalized artificial intelligence (AI) agents, should not pretend that a more credible age check is beyond its powers.
Still, the enforceability debate can sometimes feel like a sideshow. Society does not protect children with thresholds alone. You cannot get a driver’s license until a certain age, but after that there are seatbelt requirements and speed limits and a whole set of rules for the road to keep everyone safe.
More than three months since Australia’s ban, it is too early to see data on its outcomes. Jonathan Haidt, whose book The Anxious Generation helped inspire the Australian law, said in a podcast interview that it would take years to see the true impact.
However, if the data do not improve within five years, “I would then have to conclude that I was wrong in thinking that reducing social media use would improve mental health,” he added.
Still, he makes a compelling case that limits are worth trying because teen social media use is linked to a broader set of harms, from sextortion schemes to drug overdose deaths.
In the same interview, Haidt offered a more revealing point: He said he would “never” take the Internet away from children. The target, in his view, is social media, not the broader Web. This distinction is at the heart of the debate, and too often it gets lost.
Haidt recalled the earliest Web, during the 90s. It was messy, but it was also open. It helped isolated young people find information and community.
Today’s dominant platforms are more corrosive. They sort, rank and push content according to what would keep people scrolling. The question for policymakers is not just how to delay a teenager’s first login, but how to force companies to make these systems less manipulative for new users.
That starts with the algorithms. Facebook and Instagram each have 3 billion monthly users, an unthinkable global reach that is hard to unseat. Governments should demand far more transparency about what powers recommendation systems, how they amplify harmful material, and what safeguards exist for minors and adults alike.
They must set product standards that curb addictive features, strengthen content moderation, and force companies to invest much more on safety. It cannot continue taking a backseat to spending astronomical sums on AI and “metaverse” moonshots.
The debate over age limits can sometimes feel like an argument about yesterday’s Internet, like trying to block teens from joining Myspace when they have moved on to creating AI companions. The urgency is only rising. A 14-year-old should not be exposed to digitally undressed images of minors when they log online, but neither should 16-year-olds or even 30-year-olds.
It is not only Big Tech lobbyists raising objections to hardline bans. Psychologists, academics, local human rights advocates and the UN children’s agency have all warned that blunt restrictions can create new risks — from more personal data collection, more room for governments to police online speech and more incentives for youth to retreat to smaller, less visible corners of the Web.
These are not arguments for inaction, but demands for real guardrails.
The push for age limits is a welcome break from the fantasy that tech companies can police themselves, but a birthday is not a safety policy. Until governments regulate the systems driving harm, rather than merely the ages allowed to see it, they will still be targeting the users instead of the business model.
Catherine Thorbecke is a Bloomberg Opinion columnist covering Asia tech. Previously she was a tech reporter at CNN and ABC News. This column reflects the personal views of the author and does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.
In the event of a war with China, Taiwan has some surprisingly tough defenses that could make it as difficult to tackle as a porcupine: A shoreline dotted with swamps, rocks and concrete barriers; conscription for all adult men; highways and airports that are built to double as hardened combat facilities. This porcupine has a soft underbelly, though, and the war in Iran is exposing it: energy. About 39,000 ships dock at Taiwan’s ports each year, more than the 30,000 that transit the Strait of Hormuz. About one-fifth of their inbound tonnage is coal, oil, refined fuels and liquefied natural gas (LNG),
On Monday, the day before Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) departed on her visit to China, the party released a promotional video titled “Only with peace can we ‘lie flat’” to highlight its desire to have peace across the Taiwan Strait. However, its use of the expression “lie flat” (tang ping, 躺平) drew sarcastic comments, with critics saying it sounded as if the party was “bowing down” to the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). Amid the controversy over the opposition parties blocking proposed defense budgets, Cheng departed for China after receiving an invitation from the CCP, with a meeting with
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) is leading a delegation to China through Sunday. She is expected to meet with Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) in Beijing tomorrow. That date coincides with the anniversary of the signing of the Taiwan Relations Act (TRA), which marked a cornerstone of Taiwan-US relations. Staging their meeting on this date makes it clear that the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) intends to challenge the US and demonstrate its “authority” over Taiwan. Since the US severed official diplomatic relations with Taiwan in 1979, it has relied on the TRA as a legal basis for all
To counter the CCP’s escalating threats, Taiwan must build a national consensus and demonstrate the capability and the will to fight. The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) often leans on a seductive mantra to soften its threats, such as “Chinese do not kill Chinese.” The slogan is designed to frame territorial conquest (annexation) as a domestic family matter. A look at the historical ledger reveals a different truth. For the CCP, being labeled “family” has never been a guarantee of safety; it has been the primary prerequisite for state-sanctioned slaughter. From the forced starvation of 150,000 civilians at the Siege of Changchun