I remember my first phone. A sticky-buttoned Nokia, given to me by my mum when I was 11, to be used strictly for communication between myself and her (who else was I going to text?), on the way to and from school. I had to press “7” four times just to type the letter “s”.
I’m still in my early twenties, but in the intervening years the world of communication has changed dramatically for kids and teenagers. Almost all have smartphones, and many are so closely attached to them that they check them through the night.
A dossier of studies and news items have linked social media use by teenagers to mental health issues, including depression, anxiety, self-harm and suicide. Last week, an independent school made headlines for asking parents and pupils to sign a “contract” that would ban phone use on their commute, at mealtimes and at night.
In adolescence, when status and popularity are given such importance, drawing comparisons with others’ lives has frequently been linked to low mood. Meanwhile, the pressure to constantly be available, brought on by social media, has been blamed for making young people more anxious and sleep-deprived (even I sleep with Netflix or a podcast at the ready). And when a child falls victim to bullying at school, social media means that their harassment can continue long into the night.
Apps such as Instagram have increased anxieties over “missing out” and body image. The list goes on. And last week the results of a new trial were announced, which is aimed at addressing the anxieties of schoolchildren by teaching life skills.
Yet despite these concerns, statistics around social media and mental health have never rung true for me. I and many young people I know believe that, overall, social media has been a positive force in our lives. Technology raises serious issues for today’s young people – but it’s not the only problem they face. In the period since social media use has soared, we’ve had years of austerity, increased poverty and a connected increase in adult mental health problems too.
A quarter of young people with emotional and behavioural difficulties have a parent with a mental health problem – so it’s not a complete surprise that the statistics for teenagers would follow suit. And the marketisation of education also ploughs ahead, with increased exam pressures, exacerbated by school league tables, and the shadow of massive tuition fees – with suicides peaking around exam season. School days are not what they used to be, for far more reasons than social media.
The benefits of online platforms rarely receive as much airtime as the dangers. For teenagers, the internet can be a space to find like-minded people, especially for those who find it difficult to socialise.
I’ve worked in the field of student mental health and was often told that online communities provided spaces where they had found belonging. One autistic student I worked with described forums on Twitter and Tumblr as the places they best felt able to articulate themself and socialise. I also met students who found forums where they felt comfortable discussing their mental health, either due to the anonymity offered by the internet, or the fact that it allowed them to establish solidarity with others who were struggling. Personally, in terms of body image, I was able to find sources of diverse, less Eurocentric, more body-positive content.
The fact that smartphones and all that comes with them can be both enriching and detrimental to mental health is not a contradiction. But blanket bans, as proposed last week, only serve to further demonise social media rather than opening up a conversation about how best to engage with it. Digital life, like mental health, is nuanced, and so our conversations around how they are linked should be accordingly sensitive, and balanced. And yes, open spaces like PSHE (personal, social and health education) classes in school might be a fitting arena to have this kind of open discussion. Wouldn’t it be empowering to invite teenagers into a conversation about how they can have safe, productive and enjoyable digital lives?
Young people face myriad forces that can have significant impacts on their mental health, and it would be naive to deny that technology is one of them. But it’s ultimately a tool that can be utilised in different ways. And the digital world won’t be going away anytime soon – the days of greyscreen Nokias are gone and never coming back. For young people, the natural question shouldn’t be “social media: yay or nay”, but rather how can we best help them navigate it?