Preserving Childhood in the Digital Era

I couldn’t help but smile with a sense of sadness while reading Freya India’s article, ‘A Time We Never Knew’ over the weekend.?This was my first encounter with Freya’s work, and her beautiful piece referencing "anemoia"—nostalgia for a time or place one has never known—resonated deeply with me. Not because I missed that era, but because I remember it all too fondly.?

?

Memories of flipping through physical photo albums, recording songs from the radio onto cassette tapes, playing outside until dusk well out of eyesight from my parents, and having face-to-face conversations without the interruption of notifications. All these, along with the days of dial-up internet, well before the arrival of mobile phones and social media, form part of childhood memories that I now, with hindsight, hold incredibly dear.?

?

As Freya notes, the digital age has drastically transformed our world. While it brings unprecedented conveniences and connectivity, it also results in a loss of genuine human interactions. It breeds anxiety and loneliness, causing many to long for simpler, more meaningful times. Gen Z, in particular, grieves a world they never knew—a world where human connections weren't mediated by screens, where anticipation and joy were part of everyday life.?

?

Freya poignantly highlights this transformation:

“The world we inhabit now is so markedly different. New technologies cheapen and undermine every basic human value. Friendship, family, love, self-worth—all have been recast and commodified by the new digital world: by constant connectivity, by apps and algorithms, by increasingly solitary platforms and video games. I watch these ‘90s videos, and I have the overwhelming sense that something has been lost. Something communal, something joyous, something simple.”?

?

She continues, capturing the sense of loss felt by the current generation:

“…I am grieving something I never knew. …reading a magazine; playing a board game; hitting a swing-ball for hours—where now even split-screen TikToks, where two videos play at the same time, don’t satisfy our insatiable, miserable need to be entertained. I am homesick for a time when something horrific happened in the world, and instead of immediately opening Twitter, people held each other. A time of more shared feeling, and less frantic analysing. A time of being both disconnected but supremely connected.”?

?

Freya notes there is hope – prioritizing real-world play, delaying social media use, and encouraging face-to-face interactions are actions we can all take to ensure that future generations experience a more balanced upbringing.?

?

However, as Professor Selena Bartlett, a neuroscientist and author, highlights, “…In 2024, social media, smart devices, and games are the most dangerous place for children and they’re most at risk when they’re sitting in their bedroom or the bathroom at home.”?Parental intervention simply isn't enough.

Given the terrifying impacts of social media and phone use – including suicide, self-harm, and poor mental health resulting from exposure to disturbing content, misogyny, misinformation, cyber abuse, bullying and harassment, scams, and sextortion – there’s an increasing, and warranted, call for government action.?Led by child advocates, health professionals, and parents in Australia, and piggybacking off similar versions across the globe, the ‘Let Them Be Kids’ campaign is championing raising the age for social media access to 16.??

?

It’s a call for change that has my full support.

As a parent of a four-year-old with a (self-declared) ‘decent’ level of tech-savviness, technology terrifies me. I accept its role in modern society, in his future schooling, education, and career. But I still want him to grow up in a world where we remain genuinely connected without the constant need for entertainment and validation, and more importantly, without exposure to the horrifying harms resulting from its use.?

?

I will do all that I can to minimise these risks and delay exposure for as long as possible using my own professional knowledge of the challenges faced by young people, but I already know my influence as a parent will have its limitations. I can't compete with the instant gratification or social validation offered by a like, comment or share from peers (or strangers), or the jazzy bite-sized videos and colourful stories that captivate their attention and keep them endlessly scrolling through curated feeds.?

Taking action now – including limiting social media use until 16 years of age and restricting access to smartphones – might be our best (and only) chance of protecting our future generation and driving change.?