Kids’ social media ban might be just as tough on flat-chat parents

When my husband was a kid, his mum Jenny – a PR maven and producer of Hey Hey It’s Saturday – showed up at home one day with something for him to play with: a lion cub borrowed from the Melbourne Zoo for the afternoon.

Chris had a ball. He and the little lion play-wrestled on the lounge-room rug. He tempted it to play chasey with a bit of string. Carried it into his bedroom and showed off the Kiss Army and Kenworth truck posters. Hand-fed it meat hacked off a stray chop in the fridge. Was shattered when the cub was eventually driven away.

This week, the federal government announced a social media ban for Australians aged under 16. Credit: Bethany Rae

A couple of years later, he and his mum, brother and aunt were travelling in the US. One night, the party met up at a restaurant with one of Jenny’s mates, a fella from Montana called Neville. Chris already knew Neville. As an occasional visitor to Chris’ place in Melbourne, he told great yarns that hinted he was involved in diplomacy-slash-spying.

Barely had Chris finished his Philly cheesesteak when Neville gave him a head nod. “Come with me, son. Got something to show you.”

They slipped into a corridor. Neville slid a .44 Magnum from his jacket. “Have a hold,” he said. Chris was like, “What?” One minute the best thing in his life was his moon boots, the next he was waving around a Dirty Harry shooter.

Neville gave him a wink, popped the gun away and they both went back to the table to check out the dessert menu.

The entertaining of a child with a deadly weapon and a wild animal – both stories fascinate me. Probably because of what might be seen, these days, as a lack of parental responsibility, but which – for me – suggests that parenting back in the day was more individual, less constricted by what others thought.

For better or worse, sure. It was all a bit ramshackle, the way we’d wolf down Coco Pops – probably illegal now – and disappear into the suburbs while our parents put on Hot August Night and got on the crème de menthe. But our parents decided what we did, saw and were exposed to – while having almost zero interest in how we amused ourselves, as long as we didn’t smoke much and came home at dinner time.

Which is why I have mixed feelings about the government’s plan to ban children under 16 from social media platforms, with media companies responsible for enforcing the ban.

God knows I’m beyond rapt that when my kids were growing up, the most sophisticated form of social media was Myspace. I hate that kids now think the most creative adventure they can have is making a TikTok dance – and that social media teaches seven-year-olds how to contour.

When I drive past bus stops, I’m in grave danger of being the Mrs Mangel who puts the window down and yells “talk to each other, would ya?” at zombie kids staring down at their cursed phones.

So I think the mission of the proposed ban is fantastic: to free kids from their glamorous online prison. But I also wonder if it’s a toothless folly that smacks of a bid by Anthony Albanese to be seen as doing something, anything, to jazz up an electorate in whose mind he’s an ineffectual hypocrite railing at supermarkets about prices while popping on his Qantas jammies at 32,000 feet.

I wonder if the ban is a double-edged sword. It addresses parents’ real concerns about kids’ safety, mental health and wellbeing. But it’s also the government saying to mums and dads, “You stuffed that up, so we’ll take it from here.”

It means already beleaguered, flat-chat parents are now faced with a fresh challenge: keeping kids happy, connected and entertained without the social media dopamine hits they’re addicted to. Social media, for all its flaws, is a great babysitter. Short story: it adds another significant layer of complexity to modern parenting.

And there’s probably no scope for lions or a Saturday night special.

Kate Halfpenny is the founder of Bad Mother Media.

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