The House | Social media has been harming children for some time. We must act now to stop it

4 min read48 min

The House of Lords will again today (Wednesday) vote on a cross-party amendment, tabled by Lord Nash, on raising the age limit to 16 for harmful social media. The vote comes amid Louis Theroux’s recent documentary on the “manosphere”, which has brought into view what many of us working on the frontline have been witnessing for years. For doctors, teachers, and youth workers, this is not a sudden crisis. It is a predictable outcome.

We have watched, in real time, as young people’s understanding of relationships, identity, and self-worth has been shaped not by families or schools, but by algorithm-driven ecosystems that reward extremity, outrage, and division. At a recent education leadership conference, a teacher reflected that there had been a noticeable change in boys’ behaviour in just a single term. And in clinical and community settings, the impact is just as stark. A mother of a 14-year-old girl recently described sitting down with her daughter to talk about relationships, only to find that the way boys in her year were speaking about girls was, in her words, “heartbreaking.” These are not isolated observations; they are warning signs.

It is easy, in moments like this, to default to outrage or to dismiss the figures highlighted in Theroux’s documentary as caricatures: exaggerated, fringe, almost absurd. But that would be a serious mistake. What matters is not just the individuals at the centre, but the ecosystem around them. Their ideas do not stay contained at the extremes; they diffuse, soften, and normalise as they travel. What begins as overt misogyny at the top is repackaged into irony, “banter,” or pseudo-self-improvement further down the chain. By the time it reaches younger audiences, it is often unrecognisable as ideology and therefore far more difficult to challenge. This trickle-down effect must not be underestimated.

It is also uncomfortable, but necessary, to acknowledge that this culture does not emerge in isolation. When those in positions of political or social power express misogynistic attitudes, it confers legitimacy. The “manosphere” is not an aberration; it is, in part, an amplification of signals already present in the wider culture.

It is into this space, between glacially slow research, reactive policy, a rapidly evolving digital landscape, and, let’s face it, a generational identity crisis, that a highly organised, highly profitable industry has stepped, fronted by so-called “alpha male” influencers. But strip away the branding, and what remains is something far less aspirational. These figures do not model secure, grounded masculinity. What they often project, thinly veiled beneath performance, is insecurity, fragility, and unresolved attachment needs. The relentless emphasis on control, dominance, emotional detachment, and transactional relationships is not a sign of strength; it is a defence against vulnerability. And crucially, it is being monetised.

This is not simply ideology; it is exploitation. A pyramid-like system in which a small number of influencers profit from amplifying dissatisfaction and grievance. They sell certainty to the uncertain, status to the insecure, and belonging to the isolated. Courses, memberships, exclusive communities, all built on the promise that if you adopt this worldview, your discomfort will disappear. It will not. Instead, young men and boys, many already navigating loneliness and confusion, are drawn deeper into a system that depends on keeping them dissatisfied. Because resolution does not sell. Insecurity does.

Those engaging with this content are not the problem. They are the market. What they are offered is not genuine support or growth, but a script: that their struggles are caused by women, and that the solution lies in power, withdrawal, or contempt. It is a compelling narrative precisely because it simplifies complexity and because it externalises pain.

So yes, regulation matters. But we must be clear: this is not a space where light-touch measures will suffice. We do not allow children unrestricted access to gambling platforms, predatory financial schemes, or harmful substances. We recognise that certain environments are developmentally inappropriate and potentially dangerous. The same principle must apply here.

Raising the age limit to 16 for harmful social media is not about censorship. It is about safeguarding. Delaying exposure to highly polarised, adult ideological content gives young people the time to develop the cognitive and emotional capacity required to critically evaluate what they encounter. Without that foundation, they are not engaging freely; they are being shaped by individuals whose business model depends on influence, not truth.

I urge the Lords to once again vote for Lord Nash’s amendment. If they don’t, we are already seeing in some areas what the national consequences might be.

Dr Lauren Bull is safeguarding lead at Chelsea and Westminster NHS Foundation Trust and is a TedxNHS speaker