Banning Social Media Platforms for Under 16s?

by Rebecca Thomas

🙈👍🚫

The solution a boy gave his friend when dumping his girlfriend on social media.

I have NO IDEA the connotation behind this type of greeting for the girl receiving the message on the other end, but by the sounds of it, it was intended to be an insulting response to her reply.

🙈 – don’t want to see you 

👍 – whatever 

🚫 – you’re blocked

That’s the conversation. No eye contact. No emotional safety. No accountability. Just a string of emojis meant to cut deep and move on fast.

This is the world our young people are living in. And now—suddenly—politicians want to fix it.

A new member’s bill from National MP Catherine Wedd, backed by Christopher Luxon, wants to ban under-16s from using social media by forcing platforms to verify ages. It's being pitched as a way to protect our kids from cyberbullying, inappropriate content, and addiction.

On the surface? Sounds noble. In reality? Far too late.

Ask any teenager and they’ll tell you how to bypass age limits. They’ve been doing it since they were 9 or 10. Some use parent emails. Others lie by a single click. Many are already swimming in online spaces that are eight years too old for them.

The damage is already done.

For over a decade, we handed our tamariki a digital world and crossed our fingers. We assumed they’d “be fine” while we slowly figured out the internet. But the truth is — the online world has been raising our kids, while we’ve been distracted.

So now, in 2025, we want to pull the plug?

This is not a seatbelt we forgot to buckle — this is a crash that’s already happened.

The Collingridge Dilemma explains exactly why this approach is flawed. 

It’s the idea that:

• When a new technology emerges, it’s easy to regulate — but we don’t yet understand the harm.

• When the harm becomes clear, it’s hard to regulate — because the technology is already everywhere.

That’s where we are now. 

We see the harm: body image issues, algorithmic radicalisation, sexual exploitation through AI deepfakes. But the tech is too embedded. Too agile. Too profitable.

So this “ban” becomes more about political theatre than real protection. More about looking like we care, than doing what actually helps.

Let’s be honest — the platforms won't solve this. They’re profit-driven. 

Governments?

Always three steps behind the next tech innovation.

So where does that leave us?

It leaves us here: in schools, whānau, and communities, doing the real work. 

It leaves us asking how we empower tamariki to navigate these digital spaces with integrity, resilience, and truth. 

It leaves us advocating for deep, embedded digital literacy — not just firewalls and filters. 

And it leaves us demanding that young people aren’t just seen as threats to be managed, but voices to be heard.

The question isn’t “Should we ban social media for under-16s?”

The question is: What took you so long? And what are you actually going to do now that they’re already there?

Let’s stop pretending a ban is the answer.

They don’t need saving. They need whakapapa, protection, purpose, and power — and a curriculum that doesn’t just include them, but believes in them.

Te Mātaiaho 2023 RIP

MĀTAITIPU: “Mātaitipu hei papa whenuakura.” Grow and nourish a thriving community.

Solution: See our ākonga not just as learners — but as living taonga with the right to shape the world they are growing into. Support them to lead with identity, connection and insight, not filters and follower counts. They need our belief, not our bans.

MĀTAIREA:“Mātai ka rea, ka pihi hei māhuri.” Build and support progress.

Solution: Support ākonga to grow with criticality, not just consume content. Progress is not about keeping up with technology — it’s about keeping true to values while moving through it. We need to teach them how to analyse intent, question bias, and see who benefits from the platforms they use every day.

MĀTAIAHO:“Mātai rangaranga te aho tū, te aho pae.” Weave the learning strands together.

Solution: Every subject area must be a space where students learn to question the world. Not just to understand how digital tools work, but why they’re designed that way. Why does the algorithm reward outrage? Why do platforms harvest attention and data? Who wins when our young people lose time, safety, and self-worth?

MĀTAIOHO: “Mātai oho, mātai ara, whītiki, whakatika.” Awaken, arise, and prepare for action.

Solution: Let’s drop the technical buzzwords. This pou is a call to wake up and take responsibility. Schools and whānau must name what’s happening: our kids’ data is currency. Their attention is monetised. Their engagement is tracked. We need curriculum that unpacks power, control, and manipulation — not just how to use the tools, but how to resist them when needed.

MĀTAIAHIKĀ: “Mātai kōrero ahiahi.” Keep the hearth occupied, maintain the stories by firelight.

Solution: Create spaces of safety and storytelling — both online and offline. We must bring back the power of intergenerational connection and collective wisdom. If our kids can talk about what they’re experiencing without fear or shame, we have a shot at changing the narrative. This is about relational protection — not surveillance.

MĀTAINUKU: “Mātai ki te whenua, ka tiritiria, ka poupoua.” Ground and nurture the learnings.

Solution: Bring our values to the surface e.g. kaitiakitanga, manaakitanga, tika... Let these be the standard we hold platforms to. Ask — does this app uplift or exploit? Are our tamariki safer or more vulnerable here? What do we lose each time they log on? This pou reminds us: if tech doesn’t serve our people, it’s not neutral — it’s harmful.

MĀTAIRANGI:“Mātai ki te rangi, homai te kauhau wānanga ki uta, ka whiti he ora.” Look to the horizon and draw near the knowledge that brings wellbeing.

Solution: Encourage ākonga to be designers of the future, not just users of someone else’s one. Let them explore what justice, sustainability, and digital sovereignty look like in a connected world. Not just how to use tools — but how to shape the world those tools create. That is rangatiratanga in action.

And just quietly —if those in power had held onto the whakapapa of the 2023 Te Mātaiaho — the version that breathed —they’d already have the framework to respond in ways that honour te ao Māori, not reach for colonised control.

Because that version didn’t just refresh a curriculum.

It remembered who we are.

And who our tamariki could be.