The Moment Society Started Looking at Social Media Like Smoking

28 May 2026

Paul Francis

Want your article or story on our site? Contact us here

A Cultural Shift That Feels Long Overdue

For years, the conversation around social media and young people moved in uncertain circles. Parents worried, teachers complained, campaigners warned, and technology companies insisted that their platforms were tools for connection, creativity and expression. Somewhere between those positions, most of society learned to live with the unease.

That unease now feels as though it has reached a turning point.

Teenagers seated in a row, each using a smartphone, with a bright blurred background and a quiet, absorbed mood

According to the BBC report, the Academy of Medical Royal Colleges has told a government consultation that social media use now ranks alongside smoking as a threat to the health of young people, urging doctors to routinely ask younger patients about screen time and social media use. The comparison is striking, not because social media and tobacco are identical, but because it places online platforms in a category society usually reserves for products that became widespread before their harms were fully understood.

The language matters. When senior medical voices begin comparing social media to smoking, the question is no longer whether parents are being overprotective or whether children simply need more resilience. The question becomes whether the systems young people use every day have been allowed to grow faster than society’s ability to understand and regulate them.

The Internet Was Not Supposed to Become This

The early promise of social media was not entirely false. For many young people, online platforms have offered friendship, creativity, identity and access to communities they may not have found locally. That part of the story still matters, because any serious discussion has to acknowledge that digital life is not simply harmful by default.

But the internet young people now inhabit is not just a neutral space where connection happens. It is a commercial environment built around attention, retention and engagement. The platforms are not merely hosting content; they are shaping behaviour through design choices that encourage users to stay longer, scroll further and return more often.

That is why the government’s consultation is not only looking at age limits. It is also considering restrictions on features such as night-time access, autoplay and infinite scroll, which suggests a growing recognition that the structure of social media itself may be part of the problem.

This is the deeper issue. We created platforms designed to maximise engagement, then seemed surprised when children found them difficult to leave.

Why the Smoking Comparison Lands

The comparison with smoking is powerful because it is not really about the product itself. It is about a pattern.

Lit cigarette on a ledge, smoke curling in a close-up against a blurred gray background, with a gritty, quiet mood

Smoking became normal before society fully understood the long-term consequences. It was advertised, glamourised, embedded into everyday life and, for a long time, treated as a personal choice rather than a public health problem. Only later did regulation, age restrictions and cultural attitudes begin to shift.

Social media is now passing through a similar kind of scrutiny. It has already become part of childhood before the evidence, regulation and cultural norms around it have fully settled. Families have had to make decisions in real time, often without clear guidance, while platforms developed at a pace that public institutions struggled to match.

The comparison is not perfect, and it should not be treated as if it is. There is no broad scientific consensus that screen time overall is harmful to children, as the BBC report itself notes. But the concern being raised is more specific than screen time alone. It is about exposure to harmful content, compulsive design, online pressure and the emotional impact of platforms that are constantly competing for a child’s attention.

The Harm Is Not Always Visible

One of the difficulties with social media harm is that it often does not look dramatic from the outside. A child sitting quietly on a phone can appear safe, calm and occupied. The risk is hidden inside the content they are seeing, the conversations they are having and the algorithms deciding what appears next.

The BBC article highlights concerns about young people being exposed to extreme violence online, and consultant child psychiatrist Dr Emily Sehmer told BBC Breakfast that damaging content can reach children within seconds. That speed is central to the concern, because unlike older forms of media, social platforms do not wait for parental permission, broadcast schedules or obvious entry points. They are immediate, personalised and often difficult to supervise properly.

This is why some doctors now want social media use to become part of routine health conversations with young patients. If online life is occupying such a large part of childhood, then ignoring it in medical and mental health settings begins to look increasingly unrealistic.

Ban, Restrict or Redesign?

The most difficult question is what should happen next.

Some campaigners and bereaved families are pushing for stronger age restrictions, arguing that platforms which expose children to harm should not be accessible until they have been made demonstrably safer. The BBC report notes that Australia has already introduced a ban, and that the UK government is considering whether something similar, or some form of restriction, should be introduced for under-16s.

Others argue that a blanket ban may not work, or could even create new problems. Children may find ways around restrictions, particularly if age checks are weak or inconsistent. There is also the risk that young people who rely on online spaces for support, identity or community could be cut off without proper alternatives.

That is why the more serious debate may not be between “ban” and “do nothing”. It may be about whether platforms should be required to remove or redesign the features most likely to cause harm before they are allowed to market themselves to children. Campaigners have called for restrictions on unsafe apps and design features such as infinite scrolling, disappearing messages and push notifications, with access linked to stronger safety standards rather than a simple one-size-fits-all ban.

The Responsibility of Big Tech

At the centre of this debate sits a question that technology companies have often tried to avoid.

If platforms are designed to keep users engaged for as long as possible, and if those users include children, then how much responsibility do companies carry for the outcomes that follow?

It is not enough to say that parents should monitor everything, because the scale and complexity of modern platforms make that expectation increasingly unrealistic. Nor is it enough to say that children must simply learn to manage their own use, when the systems they are using have been engineered by adults with enormous financial and technical power.

The tobacco comparison becomes especially uncomfortable here. For years, industries facing criticism have tended to present harm as a matter of individual responsibility while resisting structural regulation. Social media companies now face a similar challenge. If their platforms are safe, they will need to show it not through slogans, but through design, transparency and accountability.

Technology Secretary Liz Kendall told the BBC that action will be taken by the end of the year, and that the government is considering a broad range of issues, including platforms beyond traditional social media such as Roblox and Discord. That matters because children’s online lives do not fit neatly inside old categories. Gaming, messaging, AI chatbots and social feeds increasingly overlap.

Childhood in an Endless Feed

Part of what makes this issue so culturally significant is that social media does not simply take up time. It changes the texture of childhood.

Previous generations had boredom, distance and delay built into daily life. You could not always reach your friends. You could not instantly compare yourself with thousands of strangers. You could not carry an endless stream of images, arguments, violence, beauty standards, rumours and approval metrics in your pocket.

Today, many children grow up in a constant feedback loop. Their friendships, entertainment, identity and social status can all become entangled with platforms designed to refresh endlessly. That does not mean every child is harmed in the same way, but it does mean childhood itself is taking place under conditions that did not exist before.

This is why the debate feels bigger than screen time. It is not just about how many hours are spent online, but about what those hours contain, how they are structured and what they are teaching young people to expect from the world and from themselves.

A Public Health Question, Not a Moral Panic

There is always a danger that conversations about young people and technology become moral panic. Every generation worries about the next one, and new media has often been blamed for social change long before the evidence catches up, but dismissing this as panic would now be too easy.

When doctors, bereaved families, online safety campaigners, police leaders and government ministers are all asking whether stronger action is needed, the issue has clearly moved beyond casual parental concern. The disagreement is no longer about whether there is a problem, but about what kind of problem it is, and how far the state should go in trying to fix it.

That is why the next phase matters. Regulation built in haste can fail, but regulation delayed too long can leave children exposed while adults argue over details. The challenge is to act without pretending the answer is simple.

The Moment the Tone Changed

The most important thing about this debate may be the shift in tone. Social media is no longer being discussed only as entertainment, communication or harmless distraction. It is increasingly being discussed as an environment with health consequences, commercial incentives and design risks. That is a profound change.

Whether Britain moves towards a ban, tighter age checks, app curfews or restrictions on specific features, the cultural direction is becoming clearer. The age of treating social media as a neutral part of childhood may be coming to an end.

The smoking comparison may not be exact, but it captures something society is beginning to recognise. Some products become normal before we fully understand what they do to us.

And when that happens, the question eventually changes. Not whether people should have known better. but why does it take so long to act?

Current Most Read

Creative Strategies to Keep Small Business Marketing Fresh and Engaging

After the Moon: What Happened to Progress in the World That Followed 1969?

Paul Francis
Apr 16
5 min read

When the Future Seemed to Arrive All at Once

In July 1969, humanity did something that felt definitive.

Astronaut on the moon, standing in a white suit with starry sky in the background. Lunar surface is barren and shadowy, creating a serene mood.

For those watching, it was not just a technological achievement. It carried the sense that the future had arrived in full view. If humans could stand on the Moon, then the rest seemed inevitable. Space travel would expand, technology would accelerate, and the decades ahead would continue that same upward trajectory.

Now imagine you were among those watching at 75 years old.

You had already lived through the transformation from oil lamps to electricity, from horse-drawn streets to aircraft, from handwritten letters to television broadcasts. The Moon landing would have felt like the final, extraordinary confirmation that progress had no ceiling.

And yet, what followed was not quite what that moment seemed to promise.

The World Did Not Stop, But It Changed Direction

The years after 1969 were not a period of stagnation in any simple sense. In fact, they brought some of the most profound changes in human history. The difference is that progress became less visible, less unified, and in many ways less reassuring.

The late 20th century saw the Cold War come to an end, reshaping global politics. The Berlin Wall fell in 1989, and the Soviet Union dissolved shortly after, bringing an end to a geopolitical structure that had defined the post-war world. Europe reorganised itself through deeper cooperation, leading to the formation and expansion of the European Union.

At the same time, the global economy became more interconnected. Trade expanded, supply chains stretched across continents, and financial systems became increasingly complex. The world that emerged was more integrated than ever before, but also more dependent on fragile networks.

This was progress, but it was not the kind that could be captured in a single image like the Moon landing.

The Digital Revolution Rewrote Everyday Life

If the earlier era was defined by physical transformation, the decades after 1969 were defined by something less tangible but no less powerful.

Retro computer setup with a beige monitor displaying "Bomb Jack" game menu, white keyboard, orange joystick, and floppy discs.

The rise of personal computing, followed by the internet, altered the structure of daily life. By the early 21st century, communication, work, entertainment and even social relationships had begun to move into digital spaces. Smartphones then placed that connectivity into people’s pockets, creating a world that was permanently online.

This was a revolution of scale and speed. Information that once took days or weeks to travel could now move instantly. Entire industries were reshaped or replaced. New forms of work and culture emerged.

Yet for all its impact, the digital revolution lacks the visual clarity of earlier breakthroughs. A smartphone does not feel as dramatic as a rocket launch, even if its influence is arguably broader.

Why Progress Feels Different Now

This shift in perception is central to understanding why the post-1969 world can feel slower, even when it is not.

Between 1894 and 1969, progress was visible in everyday surroundings. Streets changed. Homes changed. Transport changed. The world became recognisably different within a single lifetime.

After 1969, much of the change moved beneath the surface. Networks, software and data became the drivers of transformation. These are harder to see, and therefore easier to overlook.

There is also the question of expectation. The Moon landing set a psychological benchmark. It suggested that the future would continue to deliver breakthroughs of similar scale and drama. When that did not happen in the same way, it created a sense of slowdown, even as other forms of progress accelerated.

The Role of Money and Incentives

This is where the question of money and greed becomes relevant, though not in a simplistic sense.

In the earlier part of the 20th century, many of the most significant developments were driven by governments, public investment or the demands of war. Electrification, infrastructure and the space race itself were not primarily profit-driven. They were strategic, national or collective efforts.

In the decades after 1969, innovation became increasingly shaped by markets. Private companies began to play a larger role in determining which technologies advanced and how quickly. This shift did not stop progress, but it changed its direction.

Technologies that offered clear commercial returns, particularly in the digital and consumer sectors, moved rapidly. Meanwhile, areas that required long-term investment with uncertain profit, such as large-scale infrastructure or energy transformation, often progressed more slowly.

The result is a world where innovation continues, but is unevenly distributed and often aligned with economic incentives rather than collective ambition.

A More Complex and Uneven World

The post-1969 era has also been marked by challenges that complicate any straightforward narrative of progress.

Factory chimneys release thick smoke against a moody, orange sky. Industrial structures loom in the foreground, emitting more smoke.

The HIV/AIDS crisis reshaped public health and exposed global inequalities. Climate change emerged as a defining issue, forcing a reckoning with the environmental cost of industrial growth. The COVID-19 pandemic demonstrated both the strengths and vulnerabilities of a globally connected world.

These are not signs of stagnation, but reminders that progress is not linear or universally positive. The same systems that enable rapid advancement can also create new risks.

In the UK, as in many other countries, these shifts have been felt in everyday life. Economic pressures, housing challenges and debates over public services sit alongside technological advancement, creating a more complicated picture of what progress actually means.

From the Moon to the Age of AI

Today, in 2026, the world stands at another threshold.

A hand holds a glowing human brain against a dark background with digital icons, suggesting technology and innovation.

Artificial intelligence, once confined to research labs, is now entering daily use. Systems capable of generating text, images and analysis are beginning to reshape work and creativity. At the same time, space exploration has returned to the public eye through new missions, including renewed efforts to send humans beyond low Earth orbit.

And yet, the mood is different from 1969. There is less certainty that each breakthrough leads to a better world. Progress continues, but it is accompanied by questions about control, impact and long-term consequences.

A Different Kind of Future

The decades after the Moon landing did not deliver a simple continuation of the story that began before it. Instead, they introduced a more complex and less predictable phase of human development.

The world did not stop moving forward. It became faster, more connected and more technologically advanced. But it also became more fragmented, more unequal and more difficult to interpret.

For those who watched Apollo 11 at 75, the Moon landing may have felt like the culmination of a lifetime of progress. What followed would have been harder to define, not because less was happening, but because so much of it was happening in ways that were less visible, less shared and less certain.

The future did not disappear after 1969.

It simply became harder to recognise.