Kids, Clicks, and Crisis: What We’re Getting Wrong About Online Safety

If you only ever learned about gun safety at the gun range, you'd think we’d lost the plot. And yet here we are, learning about online safety… online. I don’t mean to kick off Mental Health Awareness Month with a paradox, but it’s worth sitting with the irony for a moment.

The truth is, the kids we’re raising—and the families we’re treating—are navigating a digital landscape we never had to map. The rules are unclear, the terrain is constantly shifting, and the system that’s supposed to help keep kids safe online? It often acts like the internet is still a land of AOL chatrooms and dial-up tones.

Let’s talk about what’s really going wrong.

We’re still treating online safety like a tech problem instead of a mental health issue.

Time limits. Firewalls. Keyword blockers. Society has largely responded to online risk with tools that act like we’re managing a plumbing leak: plug the hole, problem solved.

But we’re not dealing with leaks. We’re dealing with a rising tide.

Kids today aren't just accessing the internet—they're living part of their emotional and social development inside it. That makes online exposure less about screen time and more about mental hygiene. Just like we don’t prevent depression with a locked medicine cabinet, we won’t prevent digital harm with a timer on the iPad.

And the time spent online is no small thing. According to a 2023 Common Sense Media report, tweens now average 5.5 hours of screen time daily, and teens clock in at 8.5 hours—not even counting school-related use. That’s not just a tech stat. That’s an environment. A digital ecosystem many kids spend more time in than they do in person with their friends, or even in school.

What we need is a shift in approach—from controlling access to building resilience.

We forget that not all kids are equally vulnerable.

Not every child who uses technology becomes addicted or harmed by it. But we know who’s at greater risk: kids who are shy, bullied, struggling with mental health concerns, or navigating isolation at home. These kids are more likely to seek comfort, identity, or escape online—and more likely to fall into the darker corners of the internet when they do.

The CDC’s Youth Risk Behavior Survey shows us just how vulnerable some of these kids already are: 57% of teen girls and 29% of teen boys reported feeling persistently sad or hopeless in 2021. And that was before the rise of even more immersive, AI-curated content streams.

It’s not about banning screens. It’s about paying attention to which kids are using them to hide—and why.

We’ve failed to evolve with the platforms.

Parents today are often handed a Chromebook in fifth grade, told “it’s for school,” and expected to just… hope for the best. The internet shows up early, often in the classroom, with minimal training wheels—and it doesn’t wait for parents or pediatricians to catch up.

We’ve kept pace with devices. But not with what kids are actually doing on them.

The risks now aren’t limited to “bad words” or explicit content. They include constant social comparison, misinformation, exploitative marketing, and predatory contact in chat groups. It’s less about stumbling onto danger and more about being surrounded by it in subtle, algorithmic ways.

Nearly one in three U.S. teens say they’re on YouTube almost constantly, and over half say the same about TikTok, according to Pew Research Center. These aren’t just apps. They’re full-time environments—and kids are in them more than we realize.

Imagine if your 10-year-old could walk into a room with 5,000 adults shouting opinions at once. That’s what happens when they open TikTok.

So what can pediatricians—and the system—do better?

We’ve got to stop outsourcing this entirely to parents, especially when it’s the school system, health system, and entertainment industry introducing kids to digital life in the first place. Pediatricians are in a unique position to reframe the conversation—and normalize it as part of everyday care.

Try this:

• Normalize it: Ask about digital life the way you’d ask about sleep or nutrition. What are they watching? Who are they talking to? How do they feel after time online?
• Make the mental health connection: Help families understand that the risk isn’t just what kids see—it’s how that exposure interacts with their child’s development, personality, and preexisting struggles.
• Push for practical guardrails: A good rule? No tech behind closed doors under age 14. And if they’re online, someone should be able to glance over their shoulder at any moment.
• Focus on preparation, not just prevention: Kids will see weird or upsetting things online. The question is—do they know how to bring it up? Can they come to their parent, teacher, or therapist?

And a final word for families:

You didn’t grow up this way. So it’s okay if you don’t have all the answers. Your kids don’t need you to be a tech expert. They need you to be a safe place when things online get confusing or hard. And if that’s not you right now, that’s okay—just help them find someone who can be.

Because in the end, online safety isn’t a firewall. It’s a conversation. And the best defense against the worst of the internet? A kid who feels safe asking real questions in the real world.

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