Techlash: blaming social media for everything
After the horrific wrong-way driving collision near Middlesbrough that killed seven people, social media immediately came under fire for encouraging reckless driving. The Telegraph described a ‘new fad among young people’ of risking lives to upload reckless driving videos to TikTok, while the government said that the glorification of dangerous driving ‘for clips and entertainment is utterly disgraceful’.
However, Cleveland Police found no evidence that the collision was filmed for TikTok. Claims that ‘joyriding’ is motivated by the pursuit of online engagement overlook the long history of reckless driving, which predates modern technology by decades. In Middlesbrough itself, a 14-year-old was arrested in 1991 for driving a stolen car at 90mph on the wrong side of the road – one of numerous offences that he committed, causing £2.5million of vehicle damage within a single year.
The rush to blame TikTok seemingly reflects a wider disillusionment with social media. Indeed, the multi-billion-pound technology companies once celebrated for innovation now face mounting legal action and pressure to restrict access to their products. Take Meta – owner of Facebook and Instagram – which has just settled a major legal battle in the US by paying $18 billion and agreeing to major operational restrictions. Many legal actions centre on perceived harms to young people, from addictive features fuelling declining mental health to idealised images that create unrealistic beauty standards. And yet, technology pioneers including Bill Gates and Steve Jobs reportedly imposed strict limits on their own children’s technology use. Is the problem the technology itself, or how it is used and supervised? Are parents and schools gaining a convenient excuse to evade responsibility for setting behaviour standards at home and in classrooms?
Does blaming technology for our problems allow us to avoid taking responsibility for our choices? For all the claims that social media reduces face-to-face interaction and weakens relationships, we remain free to leave the house and meet people. Against fears of declining mental health, we gain unprecedented access to information, education and expert knowledge. For every algorithm-driven echo chamber, there is the possibility of discovering new movements, ideas and communities. If technology is merely a tool, should responsibility lie primarily with its users rather than the tool itself?
Regulation is no longer hypothetical. The UK is moving towards restricting social media access for under-16s, raising questions about privacy and free speech. Australia’s experience suggests that bans may simply encourage young people to find ways around restrictions – and, despite years of criticism, people remain reluctant to abandon these platforms. Is this refusal to be constrained in fact a development worth celebrating? To what extent has social media radically altered our lives, and is it becoming a scapegoat for a much broader set of challenges facing society today? Are we blaming social media for problems that are really failures of parenting, education and personal responsibility? At what point does legitimate concern about technology become an excuse for unnecessary state intervention?
