SerpApi.Org
What happened to curfews? They used to be as much a part of the fabric of daily life for teenagers growing up in the 1990s as Neighbours, Findus Crispy Pancakes and playing Snake on your Nokia 6110.
My personal curfew at home was 11pm – and I didn’t dare push it. My parents used to threaten that if I wasn’t home by a certain time, they’d lock the door (and I believed them. I still do). But now, the teenagers of today are about to get a taste of the Nineties-style curfew – and I am here for it.
Following Sir Keir Starmer’s announcement of a total social media ban for under-16s last month, the government has unveiled plans to automatically disable ultra-addictive video reels and algorithmic feeds, as part of a bid to crack down on scrolling and help kids, according to technology secretary Liz Kendall, “get more sleep”. This will be done by restricting access to social platforms for 16 and 17-year-olds via a voluntary overnight curfew from midnight to 6am.
Ah. I think we’ve found the snag. A “voluntary” curfew, you see, will be just that – I remember well the friends whose parents were more relaxed than mine were; who knew the time they “had” to be home was anything but. To them, the notion of a “curfew” had soft edges. That’s the thing about restrictions: if you’re not strict enough, then they’re not seen as a legally binding contract – they’re simply your parents’ opening offer.
Plus, with our kids better at tech (and getting around it) than we are, I can’t help but strongly suspect that they’ll be the ones left laughing. My 14-year-old daughter wasn’t even bothered by the idea of a total social media ban – her immediate reaction was, “we’ll just find something else to use”. Righto.
So, what do we do if our “curfews” aren’t “curfewed” enough? How do we respond – and enforce them – when even the official rules are less than binary? To me, it seems obvious: as parents, we should take what the government is offering with a pinch of salt and apply our own.
For more from Vix, sign up to her Independent Women newsletter – a weekly dose of smart, sharp and unflinching stories on the issues that matter most.
We should leave the government, in fact, to take on the real culprits – big tech, with all of their “it wasn’t me, guv” obfuscation when it comes to protecting our kids. In the wake of the announcement of a total ban on TikTok, YouTube, Facebook, Instagram and Snapchat last month, some technology companies tried to claim that blanket restrictions could in fact “endanger children”, by pushing them onto less safe platforms. Meta, for example – the parent company which owns Facebook and Instagram – said bans “risk isolating teens from online communities and information, and driving them to unregulated alternatives that lack built-in protections and parental controls”. Hmmm.
Getting a clear answer from big tech on the very real harm social media could do to our kids is like expecting those same children to willingly ask for a bowl of broccoli for dinner: achingly unlikely.
No, it would be far better for Labour to come down hard on the technology giants – and let us parents sort out rules around screentime. To take what the government has so timidly suggested and build on it. And to stop being scared to say “no” to unlimited, unfettered social media.
No devices in the bedroom is a good place to start – my kids and many of their friends have theirs taken away when they go to sleep, a simple (but effective) safeguarding measure. I have had a curfew called “downtime” set on my daughter’s iPhone ever since she first had one, meaning that all of her apps turn themselves off between 10pm and 7am.
And sure, they might not like it – we didn’t like curfews much, either. But we still abided by them, because we had to. My parents used to regularly call a dreaded “family meeting”, in fact, where there was only one item on the agenda: my “attitude”.
Thanks to the benefit of hindsight – and being a parent to a teenager myself, now – I finally appreciate the reason my parents were so (rightly) annoyed. My attitude was a problem, but even more of a problem was my pigheaded belief that as a young woman, I should be able to do whatever I wanted – whenever I wanted, no matter how unsafe it was. That included, variously: going to the local pub (underage), trying to get into the local nightclub (also underage) and accepting lifts back from Soho from dodgy mini-cab drivers with rolling eyes, for a “bargainous” 20 quid. The exact same thing goes for social media and the true “Wild West” of the web.
Forget the “voluntary” government curfew: however helpful it’s designed to be, some things are tackled best at home. And if we keep our social media or screentime curfews strict and binding – crucially, without room for negotiation – then our kids will just have to lump it.
Or, they’ll act in the way of any self-respecting teen: tell us they hate us, stomp up the stairs and slam the door.
The Independent is the world’s most free-thinking news brand, providing global news, commentary and analysis for the independently-minded. We have grown a huge, global readership of independently minded individuals, who value our trusted voice and commitment to positive change. Our mission, making change happen, has never been as important as it is today.
