Protecting Young Minds
The deaths of three minors by suicide, reportedly linked to social media distress, have jolted India into confronting a question it has long postponed: how should a society that prides itself on demographic youthfulness protect young minds in an age of algorithmic persuasion? The Economic Survey 2025–26 has placed the issue squarely in the policy arena, warning that digital addiction is no longer about access but about overexposure, design manipulation, and the psychological vulnerabilities of adolescence. For a country with more than 250 million people aged between 15 and 24, the stakes are civilisational. India’s digital public infrastructure has been celebrated as a model for inclusion, yet its social media ecosystem reveals a darker paradox: the same connectivity that empowers can also corrode. The debate is no longer about whether social media harms young users; it is about how a democratic society should respond without sacrificing liberty, innovation, or the open internet.
Neuroscience and behavioural research offer sobering insights into why adolescents are uniquely susceptible. The teenage brain is still developing its prefrontal cortex, the region responsible for impulse control and long-term decision-making, while the limbic system, which processes rewards and emotions, is highly active. Social media platforms, optimised for engagement, exploit this imbalance through endless scrolling, algorithmic amplification, streaks, likes, and targeted content that stimulates dopamine-driven reward cycles. The result is not merely distraction but dependency. Studies in India and abroad increasingly link excessive social media use with anxiety, depression, sleep disorders, body-image issues, and cyberbullying trauma. In a culture already grappling with exam stress, social comparison, and urban isolation, digital validation becomes a fragile substitute for self-worth. The Economic Survey’s call for age-appropriate access and safer defaults acknowledges a truth parents and teachers have sensed intuitively: the architecture of platforms is not neutral; it is engineered to capture attention at scale.
Yet the temptation to impose outright bans or rigid age thresholds must be approached with caution. International experience offers mixed lessons. Australia’s decision to bar children under 16 from social media accounts, backed by stringent age verification and heavy penalties, has been hailed as decisive but criticised as impractical. Teenagers have circumvented restrictions using VPNs, false age declarations, and older accounts, often migrating to less regulated platforms where harms are harder to monitor. European debates echo similar concerns, with leaders describing social media as a “Wild West” while grappling with enforcement dilemmas and civil liberties challenges. In India, where constitutional protections of free expression and personal liberty are robust, sweeping prohibitions risk legal challenges and uneven state-level enforcement. More importantly, bans may drive young users into digital shadows rather than fostering responsible engagement.
India’s existing legal framework is not as toothless as critics suggest, but it remains fragmented. The Information Technology Rules, 2021, impose due diligence obligations on intermediaries, including grievance redressal and swift removal of unlawful content. The Digital Personal Data Protection Act, 2023, goes further by mandating verifiable parental consent for users under 18 and prohibiting targeted advertising or behavioural tracking of children, with penalties reaching ₹200 crore for violations. These provisions, if rigorously enforced, could reshape platform incentives. However, compliance timelines stretching to 2027, coupled with weak enforcement capacity, dilute their immediate impact. The Madras High Court’s suggestion of parental filtering tools hints at a more practical path: empower families rather than criminalise teenagers. The challenge lies not in drafting new laws but in operationalising existing ones through technical standards, audits, and accountability mechanisms that make child safety a design priority rather than an afterthought.
The deeper question is cultural. India’s digital transition has outpaced its social adaptation. Smartphones have entered homes faster than conversations about digital hygiene. Parents, many of whom are first-generation internet users, struggle to guide children through online risks they barely understand. Schools, burdened with curriculum pressures, treat cyber-safety as an optional workshop rather than a core life skill. The Economic Survey’s recommendation for digital wellness curricula and parental training deserves urgent implementation. Equally vital are offline alternatives: community sports, arts, youth clubs, and safe public spaces that offer belonging beyond the screen. When adolescents find identity and validation in the physical world, the psychological grip of virtual metrics weakens. The problem of digital addiction is inseparable from the erosion of community life; policy must therefore extend beyond the device to the social environment in which it is used.
Ultimately, the debate over social media and minors is a test of India’s policy imagination. A binary choice between laissez-faire and prohibition is intellectually lazy and socially ineffective. What India needs is a layered approach: enforce age-appropriate design standards, mandate transparency in algorithms affecting minors, strengthen parental controls, integrate digital literacy into education, and hold platforms financially liable for demonstrable harm. Technology companies, which have long argued that they are neutral conduits, must accept that design choices carry moral consequences. At the same time, society must resist the urge to outsource parenting to the state or to Silicon Valley. The responsibility for nurturing resilient young citizens cannot be delegated to code or compliance checklists.
If India succeeds in crafting a balanced response, it could offer the world a democratic model for protecting children in the digital age—one that safeguards mental health without erecting digital walls, and promotes responsibility without suffocating freedom. The recent tragedies should not be reduced to statistics or moral panic; they should serve as a national wake-up call. A civilisation that has long spoken of dharma as a guiding principle must now rediscover its ethical compass in cyberspace. The question is not whether children should be online, but whether the online world we have built is worthy of them.
