The Government of Guyana hosted selective consultations this week to discuss young people and social media. The stated objective is to “protect” children from the potential harms of online platforms.
Certainly, the impact of social media on young people is a legitimate topic of discussion. Across the developed world, policymakers, educators, and parents continue to grapple with issues ranging from anxiety and depression to cyberbullying and misinformation. These debates are taking place in societies where the overwhelming majority of young people have reliable internet access and engage with social media daily.
Guyana presents a very different reality.
Nearly half of our children still do not have meaningful access to the internet. Many of those who do are constrained by the high cost of data and inconsistent connectivity. Against that backdrop, the sudden urgency surrounding social media raises an obvious question: why this issue, and why now?
If the objective is truly to protect children, why is online gaming not receiving the same attention, despite the many hours that thousands of young people spend on gaming platforms?
Why is there no comparable national conversation about online pornography, to which a significant percentage of boys with access to smartphones have already been exposed?
If the concern is protecting children from harm, where is the urgency around bullying in schools? Why are counselling resources still so limited? Why is there no sustained national effort to address child abuse within the home? Why are recreational facilities and safe community spaces for young people still inadequate in so many parts of the country?
And if the protection of children is genuinely the priority, why is there not a far more aggressive response to allegations of statutory rape and sexual exploitation involving powerful individuals? Why do some issues provoke national consultations while others generate little more than silence?
The inconsistency is difficult to ignore.
The government’s actions suggest that the concern is not primarily about children. The concern appears to be about information.
By 2030, today’s fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen-year-olds will be voters. Increasingly, they are receiving information outside of traditional media channels. They are listening to social media personalities, independent commentators, political critics, and voices that government cannot easily control. Whether one agrees with those voices or not is irrelevant. What matters is that they exist.
That is why citizens should approach these proposals with caution.
Governments often introduce restrictions in the language of protection. The public is told that the measures are necessary for safety, stability, or the public good. Sometimes they are. Sometimes they are not.
Many Guyanese supported the Cybercrime Act because they believed it would protect citizens from genuine online harms. Few anticipated the extent to which it could be used as a weapon against criticism and dissent.
History teaches an important lesson: rights are rarely taken away openly. They are usually removed gradually, under noble-sounding objectives that most people initially support.
In the twenty-first century, citizens must become critical thinkers. We must learn to distinguish between policies that genuinely protect children and policies that primarily protect those in power. If we fail to make that distinction, we risk surrendering freedoms in exchange for promises that were never the real objective.
A society that stops asking questions becomes easy to control. A society that asks difficult questions remains free.
