I’ve always supported Australia’s move to restrict social media access for children under 16. But recently, something that popped up in my feed while browsing Facebook made the need for this ban unmistakably clear. In December 2025, while browsing a Facebook group called “DJI Owners Australia – No Sheriffs”, I was confronted with an uncensored video filmed from the scene of the Bondi shooting — a tragedy that shocked Australia. The footage wasn’t staged. It wasn’t sensationalised for television. It was real. And it appeared without warning, unredacted, and I’d say without the editorial judgement that would have applied had it been broadcast through traditional media.
And that was precisely the problem.
The footage showed moments I did not want to see. Not because I’m fragile or unaware of the world—but because some things should not be consumed casually, without warning, context, or editorial restraint. Had that footage appeared on public broadcast television in Australia, it would have been edited, sections pixelated, and viewers clearly warned. Editors would have made decisions about what should and should not be shown especially with the fact kids could have seen it.
On social media, none of that happened.
No warnings. No redactions. No duty of care.
Real footage, zero safeguards
What disturbed me wasn’t just the video itself, but the platform environment it existed in. When users reported the post, an administrator responded publicly:
“You can stop reporting this post, it’s not going to be deleted.”
That statement alone should concern anyone who believes children can safely navigate social media on their own.
Traditional media operates under standards—legal, ethical, and cultural. Social media largely does not. Content moderation is inconsistent, reactive, and often driven by engagement rather than responsibility. What would never make it to air unedited can spread freely online, shared thousands of times before anyone intervenes—if they intervene at all.
If I, as an adult, didn’t want to see parts of that footage, I know with absolute certainty I wouldn’t want a child exposed to it.
The comments were just as troubling
Equally concerning were the comments beneath the video.
Some responses moved quickly away from empathy or factual discussion and into inflammatory territory—particularly around immigration and social division in Australia. These were not thoughtful debates. They were emotionally charged remarks that, in the wrong hands or at the wrong age, could inflame fear, resentment, or hostility.
Children and teenagers do not consume content in isolation. Videos shape emotions; comment sections shape beliefs. Exposure to graphic real-world violence alongside polarising, unchecked commentary is a volatile mix—especially for developing minds still learning how to process nuance, trauma, and social responsibility.
This isn’t about shielding young people from reality. It’s about acknowledging that how reality is presented matters.
There were plenty of members who called it out, questioning why this would be posted, and I applaud them.
Someone made the comment
If your loved one was killed/injured in this and you’re sensitive to viewing it, it’s very easy to avoid by simply not watching the video.
But no, the video was shown as was scrolling. Without warning. I should not have to have seen a single frame of it without pressing a play button to say I agreed to seeing it.
Why age restrictions (and the social media ban) make sense
The argument for banning social media for under-16s is not that young people are incapable. It’s that the platforms themselves are incapable of providing consistent, safe boundaries.
Social media collapses the distance between:
- news and raw footage
- fact and opinion
- empathy and provocation
- adult discourse and child audiences
On platforms like Facebook, algorithms reward attention, not discretion. Moderation often arrives too late, and community standards are unevenly enforced.
Australia has recognised this gap and acted accordingly. The under-16 ban acknowledges that until platforms can reliably filter graphic content, contextualise events, and control comment toxicity, children should not be left to navigate these spaces alone.
That is not censorship. It is responsibility.
A line that needs to be drawn
What I saw wasn’t hypothetical harm. It was real footage, real trauma, and real commentary—delivered without filters, warnings, or accountability.
For me, that experience reinforced a simple truth: If content is considered unsuitable for broadcast without redaction, it should not be instantly accessible to children on their phones.
Australia is right to draw a line here. Not to silence conversation—but to ensure that when young people are eventually exposed to the realities of the world, it happens with maturity, guidance, and context.
Some things should wait until adulthood. Social media—at least in its current form—is one of them.
Tell me what you think.
