
I became a biological father at 51.
My son is four years old.
I am now 55.
Those numbers matter. They shape how I see debates about children, technology, power, and responsibility. When you begin parenting later in life, you become acutely aware that trends, policies, and platforms will likely outlast your direct control. That awareness sharpens certain questions.
Last week, I wrote about the growing global push to restrict or ban children’s access to social media. This week, I want to continue that conversation—not by repeating arguments, but by reframing the issue through a parable that captures what I believe we are missing.
When Elephants Fight
There is a well-known saying: when elephants fight, it is the grass that suffers. In today’s debate, the elephants are obvious, governments, parents, and social media giants. The grass is our precious children.
Each of these powerful actors claims to be acting in the best interest of the child. Governments speak of protection and public welfare. Social media companies point to safeguards and policies. Parents, often from a place of fear or lived pain, demand decisive action.
None of these positions is inherently illegitimate. Yet something essential is missing from the fight.
A Small Moment at Home
A few evenings ago, my son was playing on the floor beside me. He had my phone in his hands, not connected to the internet, just scrolling through photos we had taken together. At some point, he looked up and asked a simple question:
“Daddy, why do people do bad things?”
There was no algorithm behind that question. No platform prompted it. It came from curiosity, observation, and a developing moral sense.
In that moment, I realised something uncomfortable: no ban, no filter, and no regulation could answer that question for him. Only a human being could. Only a parent willing to engage, explain, correct, and model values.
That moment reminded me that while policy debates rage at the highest levels, the real work happens quietly, in living rooms, at dinner tables, and in unguarded conversations.
The Silent Subject
In all this noise, one question remains largely unanswered: who is truly listening to the children?
Not as statistics. Not as evidence in court cases. Not as rhetorical tools in policy debates. But as developing human beings trying to make sense of a fast-moving, highly stimulating world.
When decisions are made about children without serious engagement with their inner world, we risk solving the wrong problem in the wrong way.
A Fair Look at the Elephants
Sound arguments require fairness, even toward those we critique.
Social media platforms did not act in secret. They introduced age limits, parental consent mechanisms, content rules, and moderation tools. Critics may rightly argue that these measures are insufficient, unevenly enforced, or constrained by commercial incentives. But it would be inaccurate to suggest that nothing was done.
Governments are now stepping in, often citing studies and reports linking excessive social media use to anxiety, bullying, and self-harm. Australia’s decision to restrict social media access for children under 16 has intensified the debate. Some applaud the move as bold. Others see it as blunt and potentially counterproductive.
Parents stand in the middle. Many welcome government intervention, especially those who believe their children have been harmed. Others worry, quietly but seriously that no regulation can replace parental responsibility.
Each elephant is responding to something real. Each is also, in many ways, reacting late.
Regulation Versus Formation
Here is where I believe the debate becomes unbalanced.
We are spending enormous energy discussing regulation of platforms, restriction of access, and control of usage. These measures may be necessary. They may reduce exposure. They may buy time.
But they do not address the deeper issue: the formation of the child who engages the technology.
A platform responds to human prompting. It amplifies curiosity, insecurity, desire, and impulse. It cannot rise above the discipline, or the absence of discipline within the person using it.
Yes, algorithms are designed to maximise engagement. Yes, there are addictive design patterns. These realities should not be dismissed. But addiction does not occur in isolation. It intersects with identity, values, self-control, and resilience.
That human dimension remains largely in the background of the conversation.
A Father’s Perspective
As a father raising a young son at 55, I ask myself uncomfortable but necessary questions:
- Am I merely protecting my son, or am I forming him?
- If every external safeguard fails, as many eventually will, what internal compass will he have?
- When he leaves my home and my supervision, what remains?
Bans can delay exposure. Controls can reduce harm. Laws can signal societal concern. But none of these builds character. None of them teaches discernment. None of them creates internal restraint.
Only values do that.
And values are not installed by legislation or software updates. They are cultivated slowly—through presence, example, correction, and repeated conversation.
The Risk We Are Taking
My concern is not with regulation itself. It is with regulation presented as a substitute for formation.
We risk raising children who are well-shielded but poorly grounded, protected, yet unprepared. We may succeed in controlling environments while neglecting the development of the person who must eventually navigate those environments without us.
We have seen this pattern before: public alarm, political urgency, expert panels, quick fixes, followed by disappointment when the underlying problem persists.
Children do not need perfect systems. They need resilient minds and anchored values.
The Grass Still Suffers
If the grass could speak, perhaps it would say:
“I need guidance, not just guardrails.
I need truth, not just filters.
I need adults willing to do the slow work, not outsource it.”
That work cannot be delegated entirely to governments or platforms. It begins in homes, relationships, and daily modelling.
As a #50PlusDad, I do not claim final answers. I do hold one conviction: we cannot parent by proxy, not through governments, not through technology companies, and not through bans alone.
If we win the regulatory battle but lose the formation war, the grass will still suffer.
And that is a cost no elephant should be willing to justify.


