How would your childhood have been different if you’d grown up in the age of social media?
I’ll always remember an incident that happened in the fifth grade when I was playing outside at recess. I was often picked on in elementary school because I was overweight, nerdy and extremely naïve. I had a lot of allergies as a kid, and in particular, I was allergic to dandelions. One day, a group of bullies pinned me down on the playground. As I struggled to twist out of their grip, another kid pulled a fistful of dandelions out of the grass. He smashed them in my face and rubbed them over my neck and arms. I had a bad allergic reaction, and my skin broke out in an angry red rash. I had to go home that day—and I was terrified to go back to school the next.
If the same incident were to happen today, you can bet that one of those kids would have been there with a device taking a video. That awful experience would have been recorded, posted and spread across the school—not just as a story, but as an experience that people could watch on permanent record. Even kids who weren’t there would have seen my struggle. While social media has made our interactions more accessible, instantaneous and permanent, the drivers behind our behavior are still the same: we humans are driven by a need to belong.
By the time I entered high school, I had come into my own a bit. I played football and hockey—and I struck up friendships with the ringleaders of the athletic crowd. For the first time in my life, I was in. And I loved it. I didn’t realize it at the time, but knowing what I know now, I’m sure my brain was flooding with dopamine every time I was included. It wasn’t until later that I picked up on the peer pressure that comes with being part of a group. Some of the dumbest things I’ve ever done were driven by my need to fit in.
Knowing your place in the group was pretty straightforward “in the good old days.” I remember feeling ecstatic when the phone rang, and I was invited to parties or to somebody’s house to hang out and play video games or goof off around town. I waited by the phone plenty of weekday afternoons for a call from anybody; it made me feel like part of the group and I was terrified of being excluded from it. I measured my belonging subjectively, based on the real-world interactions I had with my peers.
The advent of social media, followers and the like button have turned the subjective feeling of fitting in into something very objective, and measurable. The competition around social standing and related exclusion and social validation are the things I worry the most about when it comes to youth and technology.
If social media was around back then, I imagine what metrics I might have looked for to understand where I stood in the group. I would have expected to scroll through social media posts from the popular kids and find that they were “liked” more than mine. But there might be someone else out there I considered equal to me in social standing. Would I have gone out of my way to see how many “likes” that person’s post got compared to mine, just to see where I stood in the group? I’m confident I would have.
Today’s technology has formed a world where kids only have to tap into their go-to social media channels to see if they’ve been included or excluded. When kids are included in an event, they get to see and post photos of the experience. That’s great, but what about the kids who are left out? Through their social media feeds, which can turn into a scorecard measuring all the ways they aren’t included. Because of our need to belong, if we’re not part of the scene, we simply don’t feel “worthy.”
Think of how this scorecard effect gets compounded across the billions of users tapping into social media. We have access to incredible amounts of data about what our friends like, who they’re hanging out with, and whether we belong. Children are hyper-aware of exclusion, and the negative outcomes of not joining the crowd are incredibly powerful. Simply put, the pain of being rejected hurts more than the pleasure of being included.
This bias is known as loss aversion: the notion that everything else being equal, a person would rather avoid losing than acquire an equivalent gain. Someone losing $100 gambling, for example, experiences a greater negative feeling than the positive feeling that comes from winning $100. Consider the correlations this concept has for social media: a single post may earn dozens or even hundreds of “likes” for a day, but the thrill doesn’t last. How does the same user feel about themselves the next day when their new post gets ignored?
My memories of inclusion and exclusion had a lasting effect on me. Imagine what the same experiences would feel like today: each of those incidents I recall probably would have been recorded, shared, posted on social media—and circulated throughout the school by the end of the day. And, those posts might resurface years later to create the same negative impact they did in the original moment.
When I think about my own kids growing up with social media, I know I have to play an active role in ensuring they know how to use these networks responsibly. I need to help my children understand the outcomes of their online behavior, both for the impact their interactions have on other people and the effect social media has on their own mental health and sense of belonging.
A deeper dive
Here are a few helpful resources in case you want to really dig into today's topic:
Even though most social platforms have 13+ age restrictions in their terms of service, younger children are signing up in droves. According to a 2021 C.S. Mott Children’s Hospital poll from the University of Michigan, half of children 10-12 years old and one-third of children 7-9 years old are using social media apps.
Many parents suspected that social media could be detrimental to kids’ mental health—and after the revelations from Facebook’s whistleblower, it’s clear that the dangers are real. The platforms are designed to maximize engagement at almost any cost, and in the absence of features that protect user wellbeing, many teens are coming up with their own workarounds to protect their mental health. Maybe Instagram can take a few pointers?
TL;DR
Too long; didn't read. It shouldn't be a full-time job to keep up on industry news, so here is a mercifully quick summary of some other notable developments:
When Meta announced that they were developing an Instagram platform for kids, the clap back was pretty swift. Since the controversy, they’ve shelved the project, but it seems that there’s still plenty of turmoil to go around. According to the Wall Street Journal, the executive overseeing Instagram for Kids is leaving the company. Adam Mosseri, the head of Instagram, will oversee the project, which is still paused indefinitely.
Do you ever feel like you’re the only one who wants to sigh loudly? Well, a Kindergarten in California has launched a hotline offering life advice and pep talks from children whenever you’re feeling low. According to the Washington Post, “prerecorded advice for stressed callers, some of it in Spanish, includes: Punch your pillow and cry on it. Go get your wallet and spend it on ice cream and shoes. Jump on a trampoline. Go get a cookie. Be grateful for yourself. Be you. It’s okay to be different.” Pretty good advice, if you ask me!
And lastly
Here are a few more pieces of original writing from me and my team—just in case you're keen for more:
Are your kids fans of Roblox? The platform is wildly popular among younger gamers and offers them literally millions of user-generated games to explore. Check out this handy parent’s guide for everything you need to know to keep kids safe.
For years, there has been a gap between YouTube Kids and the adult platform. The kids’ version is designed for much younger users, and the adult version is full of mature and questionable content—which means there hasn’t been a great solution for parents as kids grow up. Now, Google is testing YouTube Supervised Experiences, which is meant to let kids explore the adult platform in an age-appropriate way. Check out the details here.
Okay, that's it from me until next time. If you enjoyed this newsletter, and know of another parent who would as well, please feel free to forward it along.