How Social Media Shapes the Minds of the Young
In a world incessantly propelled by technological innovation, where the tendrils of social media and digital interactivity are woven into the very fabric of our daily existence, Kem-Laurin Lubin’s article is not merely timely; it is a clarion call for introspection and action. As a co-founder of Human Tech Futures and a seasoned researcher in human-computer interaction, Lubin’s voice carries the gravitas of someone who has navigated the front lines of the digital frontier. The central thesis of Lubin’s piece — that technology, particularly social media, is shaping the mental landscape of our youth in ways we are only beginning to comprehend — is a sobering reminder of our collective responsibility. Lubin argues that social media can have both positive and negative impacts on the well-being, self-esteem, and identity formation of young people, depending on how they use it and what kind of content they consume. Lubin also highlights the need for more regulation, ethical standards, and public education to ensure that social media is used in a safe and responsible manner. Lubin urges designers, policymakers, researchers, and parents to work together to create a more human-centric and humane digital environment for the future generations.
Lubin’s insights are far from conjectural. The nexus between increased technology use and the erosion of mental health among children and youth is supported by a growing body of research. It is this empirical reality that lends urgency to the author’s plea for regulations underpinned by ethical and human-centric principles. Lubin is not advocating for a Luddite retreat from the digital world but rather a reorientation of our design philosophies — one that places the well-being of the user at the forefront, rather than relegating it to the margins of profit margins. Lubin also calls for a multidisciplinary approach that incorporates history, philosophy, ethics, and the arts into technological design, aiming to create tools that resonate with the human experience and empower rather than ensnare.
The divergent paths taken by the U.S. and China in regulating technology use among minors illuminate a stark contrast in national attitudes towards digital governance. The U.S., as Lubin points out, has witnessed legislative inertia, with Congress failing to enact laws that would compel tech companies to conduct audits aimed at safeguarding the privacy and mental sanctity of its younger users. Across the Pacific, China’s approach, though authoritative and fraught with its own set of human rights concerns, demonstrates a commitment to imposing strict boundaries on screen time and content exposure for those under 18. While the Chinese model is hardly a paragon to emulate wholesale, it represents a decisive — if heavy-handed — approach to shielding its youth from the potentially corrosive effects of unbridled digital consumption. For example, China has recently banned online gaming for minors from Monday to Thursday, and limited it to only three hours per week on weekends and holidays. China has also introduced a new law that requires online platforms to verify the real identities of their users and protect their personal information. These measures reflect China’s desire to curb the addiction and influence of digital platforms on its young population, while also asserting its digital sovereignty and control over the flow of information.
Lubin’s personal anecdotes as a designer and researcher enrich the narrative with the authenticity of lived experience. By recounting instances of confrontation with the prevailing corporate ethos — one that extols “customer stickiness” and a “move fast and break things” mentality — Lubin sheds light on the ethical conundrums faced by those in the tech industry. This culture of relentless pursuit of engagement and revenue, often at the expense of user well-being, represents the antithesis of the principles Lubin espouses. The tension between commercial imperatives and creative, human-centered design principles is palpable in these recollections, underscoring the moral dilemmas that confront designers within the digital economy.
The clarion call for collective action from diverse disciplines, particularly the humanities, to reshape the trajectory of technological innovation is perhaps the article’s most resonant chord. Lubin does not view technology as an island unto itself but rather as an integral part of the broader humanistic tapestry. There is a yearning for a renaissance of sorts — a rebirth of technological design informed by history, philosophy, ethics, and the arts. This multidisciplinary approach holds the promise of technologies that do not merely function with cold efficiency but resonate with the cadence of human experience — tools that uplift rather than undermine, empower rather than ensnare.
Finally, Lubin’s exhortation to designers — to remain unwavering in their commitment to excellence and steadfast in their design principles — echoes the ethos of a craftsperson’s devotion to their art. The piece suggests that in the sprawling edifice of technology, each line of code, each user interface, carries with it a moral weight, an opportunity to contribute to the commonweal or detract from it. To illustrate this point, Lubin cites examples of how technology can be used for good or ill, such as the connected doorbell app that can enhance security or enable surveillance, or the credit card app that can prevent fraud or facilitate control. Lubin also refers to the design principles for technology that have been proposed by various organizations, such as IBM, Forbes, and the Interaction Design Foundation, which emphasize the importance of user-centricity, flexibility, transparency, accountability, and inclusion.
