Keeping children safe on the internet

FEW PARENTS, confronted with grumpy toddlers or bored ten-year-olds, are strong-minded enough to resist the peace that comes from sticking their darlings in front of a tablet or a smartphone. But the relief is tinged with guilt. One minute toddlers can be watching Peppa Pig, and the next learning that the Moon landings were faked or that Earth is flat. YouTube and Netflix are designed to keep their audience hooked in ways that are creepy when used on adults; but when they involve children they are downright disturbing. Data are being collected from individuals too young to dress themselves, let alone consent to the myriad of uses to which the data are put.

The problem is not new. Rules have long governed children’s exposure to older forms of media—think of watersheds in television schedules, age-ratings in cinemas or restrictions on buying pornography. Yet for many years, both governments and tech firms have treated the web as a domain where those rules are so laxly enforced that they hardly apply at all. The industry hides behind the skimpiest of figleaves. Facebook’s terms of service forbid those under 13 from signing up, as do those of WhatsApp, a messaging service that Facebook owns. Both provisions are blithely ignored by millions.

The platforms themselves are not well policed. According to one survey, 61% of parents who let their children watch YouTube report that their offspring have come across unsuitable content. Some videos purporting to be children’s cartoons have been found spiked with violence, or with predatory comments below the line. Now, though, propelled by worries about everything from religious radicalisation to exploitative content and grooming by paedophiles, governments are at last beginning to pay attention (see article). In America Congress is drafting several bills. India may forbid data-collection from anyone who is under 18. Britain wants to force porn sites to implement robust age checks, or face being blocked.

Broadly, this is welcome. Many liberals, like this newspaper, think that censorship laws are easily abused, and that too much mollycoddling is not just unnecessary but harmful. Yet it is hard to defend the idea that there should be one set of rules for old media and another—or none—for newer kinds. The argument that it is up to parents to control their children’s media consumption has much to recommend it. It would have even more if tech firms were not using every design trick they could think of—from push notifications to recommendation engines—to undermine that control, or if they were taking the initiative in rooting out harmful content.

The risk is that new rules cost a fortune to enforce and become obsolete as technology marches on. Hence governments should apply two principles. First, online rules should reflect the broad standards that are already in place for offline media. Obviously, these standards need to be adapted to suit a new generation of technology in which interaction is enabled, individual preferences can be catered for and viewing is on demand. But they apply to the same children and are a good foundation.

The second principle is that governments should not get bogged down trying to specify precisely how platforms should solve problems—setting out, for example, the details of what it means to identify when a child is using a site. That is a task for the tech firms, which can innovate and which understand their platforms better than anyone. Instead, regulators should demand results, and impose large sanctions for firms that fall short. The sorts of fines imposed by the GDPR, which are based on percentages of a firm’s global revenue, are a starting-point. Tech firms would be well advised to co-operate. Some are trying—YouTube’s “Kids” app is a start, but it should be aggressively promoted as the company’s default option for children. But even the most mercenary should see the way the wind is blowing. If they do not respond they will find their bad behaviour ends with tantrums and tears.