InThe Anxious Generation, psychologist Jonathan Haidt has written what is, to a certain extent, a useful and important book reviewed favorably at Law Liberty. Numerous adolescent and teen mental-health metrics in the United States have markedly deteriorated in the last 15 years or so. Haidt identifies a twofold cause, which he terms the “Great Rewiring.” In his telling, smartphone proliferation has prompted young people to substitute devices and social media for in-person socializing. Meanwhile, he writes, safety-obsessed parenting has stunted children’s development of essential social skills, self-confidence, and mental resiliency.

　　In the book’s best portions, Haidt provides insightful psychological explanations of everyday phenomena widely experienced online. He offers sound advice that parents ensure their children partake in in-person free play and other activities that build life skills and psychological stability. And despite receiving some caustic criticism, Haidt has conducted himself honorably. Thoughtfulness and nuance pervade even his mistaken arguments—though not always those of his adherents in politics and the media—and he has made his evidence availableto public scrutiny.

　　Ultimately, however, Haidt comes to several analytic and public-policy conclusions that his research cannot justify. He advocates invasive—and unconstitutional—regulation of social media with little attention to the many severe tradeoffs his preferred policies would impose.

　　Haidt ascribes far too much blame to social media and, consequently, overestimates the benefits that banning children from social media would yield. The certainty with which he asserts theseconclusionsseems at best prematureand at worst entirely baseless. Otherresearchershave notedgross methodological errorsin Haidt’s cited studies and haveidentified several trendlinesthat contravene his thesis. Certain downward-trending mental-health metrics remain small in absolute terms, complicating public policy debates. To Haidt’s credit, when Aaron Brown, a critical academic, challenged the quality of these studies during a recentspeaking engagement, Haidt agreed in part, responding, “If your skepticism is just that we have not conclusively proven the causal link, I think that’s a reasonable position to hold today.”

　　Haidt challenges his reader to advance a more plausible theory than his for children’s psychological struggles. He andothershave debunked several. This asks an improper question, however. No one single unified theory—no monocausal explanation—can likely explain the phenomenon in question. Confounding variables inevitably abound. This view correlates with most of the arguments in Haidt’s book. As economist Tyler Cowen argued in a recentpodcast conversationwith Haidt, humans have suffered many severe and inexplicable “mood shifts” throughout history. “There are all these long-term historical mood shifts, which very often are reversed … and they’re essentially a mystery to us,” Cowen said.

　　The trends Haidt identifies deserve attention and rigorous scientific scrutiny. To date, definitive pronouncements of a youth mental-health epidemic caused by social media lack any firm grounding. Throughout history, moral panics have often fixated on new technologies, only to recede from public consciousness with little trace.

　　These panics often shroud themselves in purportedly credible research. For example, near the end of the twentieth century, multiple US jurisdictions bannedunderage possession of pagers, citing fears of teens engaging in drug-related activity and prostitution. In an especially silly example from 2005, CNN cited a King’s College psychologistwho claimedthat “E-mails ‘hurt IQ more than pot.’” From theprinting pressto video games, and television to rock and roll, continued uses of the temporarily reviled technologies have rebutted alarmists’ claims.

　　Haidt acknowledges this history but gleans the wrong lesson. “The lesson of The Boy Who Cried Wolf is not that after two false alarms we should disconnect the alarm system,” hewriteson his blog,After Babel. “In that story, the wolf does eventually come.” Of course,proverbialvillagers must remain aware that wolves exist—yet also understand that the wolf’s arrival is not an inevitability. An understanding that human psychology tends towards moral panic, groupthink, and fear-based confirmation bias—particularly when facing new technologies—should prompt researchers and policymakers to view each new alarm with heightened skepticism.

　　In his book, Haidt writes, “It’s hard for us to understand what is happening, or know what to do about it.But we must do something. We must try new policies and measure the outcomes” (emphasis added). Such underestimation of regulation’s potential tradeoffs should discomfort readers—particularly conservatives. Regulatory experimentation—especially of the bold, persistent, sweeping type Haidt advocates—usually triggers significant unintended consequences. Historically, lawmakers insistent on “doing something” merely for action’s sake have routinely failed to achieve their stated ends. Nonetheless, they have often erected regulatory infrastructure whose consequences and potential for abuse they neither intended nor foresaw.

　　Societies nearly always shudder when groundbreaking new technologies emerge; with time, people adapt, turning new tech into beneficial uses.

　　Just last month, for example, the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) reclassified broadband services under Title II of the Communications Act of 1934. This mission creep will envelop an entire industry in an inapt regulatory structure originally intended to regulate another type of business entirely, weakening American networks for no discernable public-policy gain. The FCC’s previous stab at Title II classification dampened private-sector investment, and its repeal, despite apocalyptic scaremongering, drove simultaneously an increase in the quality of internet services and consumer-price deflation. Proponents of Title II classification have defended the policy with myriad and diverse justifications—from anti-throttling to cybersecurity to national security—yet each rationale wilts under scrutiny. Such flimsy arguments suggest another dynamic, which FCC Chair Jessica Rosenworcel made all but explicit: Title II serves as a tool for opportunistic technocrats who believe that critical industries, such as broadband, simply must be subjected to heavy-handed regulatory guidance. Lawmakers should pause and—before erecting still more expansive regulatory infrastructure—consider the likely abuses to which future opportunists will put their policies.

　　As Haidt’s comments on discrete policy proposals make clear, he fails to perceive the necessary effects of his preferred legislation. He asserts that (among other reforms) barring children under age 16 from social media, necessitating universal age verification, would “cost nothing.” This beggars belief. Age verification mandates require platforms or third-party vendors to assess the age of allusers, not just children. This posesstaggering privacy risksto adults and children alike. “There is no [existing] method [of age verification] that could be applied to everyone who comes to a site in a way that is perfectly reliable and raises no privacy or civil liberties concerns,” Haidt concedes. The French data-protection agencyCommission Nationale de l’Informatique et des Libertésput itmore directly, stating that “there is currently no solution that satisfactorily meets … three requirements [i.e., accuracy, wide usability, and respect for privacy].”

　　Moreover,numerous federal courtshave overturned age verification mandates on constitutional grounds, ruling that they impose impermissible burdens on the free speech rights of adult users. Indeed, on the same day President Bill Clinton signed the very statute Haidt attacks as too weak, the Children’s Online Privacy Protection Act of 1998, Clinton also signed the Children’s Online Protection Act, which subsequentlyfell in courtdue largely to its age-verification requirements. Other legislative proposals Haidt supports, theKids Online Safety Actandage-appropriate design codes(AADCs), would similarly struggle to withstand legal scrutiny (a judgeblockedCalifornia’s AADC in 2023). In the American system, lawmakers must pursue even the most compelling government interests witha healthy respectfor the Constitution.

　　One policy solution Haidt advocates seems quite promising. Local school districts should consider going “phone free,” disallowing phone use during school hours (even during recess and lunch). As Haidt writes, schools that have increased students’ free playtime or disallowed students to use phones during the school day have enjoyed considerable academic and behavioral improvements. In experimenting with such policies, local school districts can serve as laboratories of democracy, testing results as they go, without implicating constitutional questions. This incremental approach would provide extensive data on its efficacy and likely could solve the existing research deficit.

　　Smartphones proliferated fewer than two decades ago, which, in terms of massive technological trends, is quite recent. Rushing to pass destructive regulation as civil society and individuals begin adjusting seems unwise. Although Haidt largely dismisses them,myriad child-safety tools exist. These tools will continue to evolve, becoming easier to use, more comprehensive, and less porous. Platforms must continue to improve these tools, preferably at a faster pace. Moreover, cultural norms surrounding children’s use of phones and social media will continue to discover and promote healthy consumption habits. Societies nearly always shudder when groundbreaking new technologies emerge; with time, people adapt, turning new tech into beneficial uses.