A few people got in touch to ask why, in the blog I posted yesterday, I said nothing specific on the subject of bans either generally or in respect of the Australian proposal.
The main reason was I wanted to keep the focus on the question of age, as such, in the context of the internet and children’s uses of digital technologies across a wide spectrum. I also wanted to tell the story of the appalling history of previous attempts to fix on an age limit.
As you will gather, leaving aside (for now) age limits determined by law e.g. for things like pornography, gambling and similar, I do not believe there is any reliable evidence to support any particular age being applied to almost anything. Common sense leads us to certain conclusions but that is not the same as empirical evidence.
To quote Livingstone and Sylwander
“it is near impossible to channel the complex and uneven body of available evidence about children’s encounters with risks of harm towards a straightforward consensus regarding any ‘right age’”.
There are so many variables which can influence or determine the quality and nature of a child’s life, I am not the first to have observed it may simply be impossible ever to isolate, measure or predict with any degree of confidence, how different kinds of Apps, smartphones, the internet or what have you can affect outcomes for a given child or group of children, either in the short or the longer term.
Having said that, my gut tells me the proposed ban in Australia feels a bit like punishing the children for the failures of tech.
I don’t believe a ban will work, it will create friction and tension between children and their parents, their school and possibly even the authorities. But I could be wrong about that.
Thus, assuming it is not very obviously insane, can it really be all that bad if someone somewhere tries something new? We might learn important lessons about the utility or uselessness of bans, at least for older children.
From its very beginning as a mass consumer product, the whole business of children being given access to the internet has more than once been described as the biggest social experiment in history. Clear cut examples of children being exposed to danger were too readily and too often dismissed.
“Children need to learn about the realities of the world, not get wrapped in cotton wool.”
There are now a great many families who probably think those words ring a bit hollow.
To put it no higher than this, if it goes ahead the Aussies will simply be conducting another type of experiment. Such dangers as might arise will be different from those we have known heretofore, likely principally to be connected with lost opportunities, but there may be upsides. We shall see.
So I am not going to speak against a ban. Without meaningful age assurance to enforce an age limit it is all baloney anyway, posturing, cosmetics.
Neither am I going to criticise, either directly or by implication, any parents or schools who advocate for or implement a ban.
If a parent thinks their child might be in danger, howsoever small the risk might be, of course they will want to narrow or completely eliminate it. Who am I to say they shouldn’t? Who am I to say
“No. You should let your child go into spaces you obviously believe are dangerous. In future you might need to devote a large part of your time supervising their usage of tech but at least……”?
Honeyed words from me about the value of online spaces would make me sound like a tech salesman and they do quite a good enough job of that already. As neutrally as possible, all I can do is point to the most likely consequences of restricting access. If it becomes apparent a “ban” or other restrictions are having detrimental effects can we not trust parents or schools to modify or abandon whatever they are doing? Or do we only trust and applaud them when they go with the orthodoxy?
The argument that a ban would drive children into darker parts of the internet is trotted out practically every time any changes or reforms are proposed. It’s nearly always an argument for maintaining the status quo. Cui bono?
Very often not children.