As seen on Substack
I was in the middle of a mindless scrolling binge, when Isabella and Tash told me that Keir Starmer was finally going to stand up to the social media companies. I opened the BBC app to check if it was true that the government would be banning harmful content – putting an end to the era of digital commodification, online hatred and violent pornography for good. I let out a little shriek of joy.
But this soon turned to a guttural moan, as my friends and I realised that – as young women in our early twenties – we would miss out on these protections since they would be limited to the under-16s. I threw down my phone in disgust, before picking it up again. Isabella sullenly twirled her locks of chestnut hair while Tash, crestfallen, began scrolling again with renewed vigour.
So take it, Keir. Please. This little rectangle of horrors has already stolen so much of my life
I don’t mean to whinge, but I can’t help but feel that ours must be the unluckiest generation to grow up this side of the second world war. Our younger years were wasted online, then years of our education were lost to the pandemic. If we had been born earlier, we could have enjoyed being young people before the internet, never worrying about having our late-night antics posted online, or boys sharing our nude photographs on Snapchat.
