Even before France passed a law in January banning social media for children under 15, 13-year-old Benjamin was already thinking about what life without social media would be like. “If we want to play football, we won’t be able to organize it. What will we do? Send letters instead?” he joked in an interview with Le Monde. His reaction highlights the core challenge of the growing trend of youth social media bans: while removing access is straightforward, understanding the role these platforms play in children’s lives is more complex. In Australia, where a similar ban was introduced, the eSafety Commissioner reported that platforms restricted access for 4.7 million under-16 accounts. However, two months later, one in five Australian teenagers under 16 was still using apps like TikTok and Snapchat, according to a data company that tracks parental controls. This suggests that banning access does not necessarily equate to making children safer online. Governments around the world are moving forward with similar measures without fully addressing whether these bans actually reduce online risks. Indonesia’s new child safety framework, effective since March, prohibits children under 16 from using “high-risk” social media platforms. The UK is planning to ban social media for those under 16, introduce automatic overnight curfews for 16- and 17-year-olds, and expand child-safety rules to cover AI features. In Europe, the European Commission proposed the EU KIDS Act, which would prohibit children under 13 from using social media and set 15 as the minimum age for independent account creation. These efforts reflect a global push to protect children online, but they often overlook deeper issues. From my experience working on child online protection initiatives with the International Telecommunication Union (ITU) in Southeast Asia and the Pacific, I’ve found that banning social media doesn’t address the root causes of online harm. Instead, the real challenges lie in the systems that drive harmful content—such as algorithms that prioritize engagement, opaque moderation practices, and data collection strategies that prioritize profit over safety. Public institutions responsible for child online protection often lack the resources, expertise, or budget to enforce complex online safety policies effectively. In Indonesia, for example, service providers face long-term funding issues and lack the specialized staff needed to manage child safety effectively. At the local level, staff often lack digital skills, and budget constraints force reliance on external support. Many children and their parents also lack the digital literacy needed to navigate online risks safely. Research on child online protection in Indonesia found that many children do not know how to report harmful experiences or navigate the internet responsibly. Additionally, platforms themselves have limited independent oversight when it comes to identifying underage users and ensuring compliance with age verification rules. For example, in Indonesia, platforms are responsible for verifying users’ ages, while the government oversees compliance. This raises concerns about how platforms handle sensitive data, such as government-issued IDs and selfies, which can be used for more than just age verification. Another challenge is the technical difficulty of verifying age without collecting unnecessary personal information. Governments and companies use methods like identity documents, parental consent, and facial age estimation, but each comes with trade-offs between accuracy, privacy, and accessibility. Facial age estimation, for example, relies on large databases and is not always accurate. The European Commission’s proposed age-verification system aims to confirm age without collecting excessive data, using technologies like Zero-Knowledge Proofs, which allow verification without revealing identity or exact birth dates. However, these solutions require rigorous testing, common standards, and independent oversight to avoid creating systems where businesses, not individuals, control personal data. When access to a platform is blocked, some young people may shift to smaller, less-regulated platforms, but this is not always the case. In Australia, early reports suggested that teenagers moved to platforms like Yope, but later data showed little large-scale migration. Many teens simply found ways to stay on banned platforms, highlighting the lack of offline “third places”—physical spaces where young people can socialize and build identity outside of home and school. For some, especially those who are isolated, disabled, or part of marginalized groups, losing access to these platforms could mean losing vital support networks. If blanket social media bans are not the answer, what is? A more effective approach would involve regulating the design of platforms themselves, ensuring they are built with children’s safety, privacy, and well-being in mind. This includes features like private default settings, transparent recommendation systems, and limits on attention-grabbing features like autoplay and infinite scroll. Governments, platforms, and communities must work together to create safer online environments that prioritize children’s needs without simply removing access. Until then, the current wave of social media restrictions may not be enough to keep children truly safe.