Children who are excluded from social media are missing out on something real—and that deserves honesty. Studies show that young people who actively use social media are more politically interested and engaged.

Regan MacNeil, the legendary girl in William Friedkin’s “The Exorcist” (1973), hurls obscenities at her doctor—a scene that remains the epitome of the unspeakable to this day. What was staged as horror in the cinema has long since become everyday reality in the comment sections of social media.

If platforms won’t even filter the word “shit,” should we leave our children to them?

Austria is planning to ban social media for children under the age of 14. On March 27, 2026, Media Minister Andreas Babler, State Secretary for Digitalization Alexander Pröll, and Education Minister Christoph Wiederkehr presented the negotiation results—following an international trend led by Australia, which became the first country to ban social media for under-16s in December 2025.

The diagnosis is correct. The treatment falls short. And this can be summed up in a single word: shit.

What Children Lose — And Why We Should Care

A ban is not a neutral act. Children who are locked out of social media lose something real—and that deserves honesty. Young people use social media to inform themselves about topics that matter to them, to engage politically, and to build communities, both online and offline. Studies show that young people who actively use social media are more politically interested and engaged. More than half of teenagers say social media helps them learn more about their hobbies and interests—60% say it helps them discover other cultures and ways of life. For creatively active young people, the spectrum ranges from casual production to marketable, professional forms. During the COVID-19 pandemic, social media helped some teens develop their creativity and find like-minded people.

For children who struggle to find connection in their immediate environment—whether due to special interests, cultural backgrounds, or personal circumstances—social media can be the only place where they feel understood. All of this is simply cut off by a ban. It is not a weakness of the argument, but its strength, to say: We do not want to drive children out of this space—we want to make this space habitable for them. The difference is crucial.

The Simplest Problem in the World — Unsolved

There are things in digital content moderation that are genuinely difficult. Recognizing context. Understanding irony. Distinguishing between political criticism and hate speech. These are real challenges where even sophisticated algorithms still fail.

And then there are curse words.

“Shit,” “fuck,” “asshole,” ” motherfucker,” “fucker” — these are not edge cases. These are known, finite, enumerable words that have been documented in every language for decades. Profanity filters scan text in real time, detect forbidden terms, and suppress posts before they become visible—fully automated, without human moderation. The technology is trivial. It has existed since the early days of the internet.

Facebook introduced keyword blocklists and profanity filters for page administrators as early as 2011; Instagram followed in 2016. This is no coincidence—it is an admission: The platforms know exactly how to do it. They just don’t do it platform-wide and by default for all users.

Not a Censorship Problem — A Decency Problem

At this point, the objection of free speech inevitably arises. It is wrong.

Freedom of speech protects arguments, convictions, even uncomfortable truths. It does not protect insults. No one loses a protected form of expression if “fuck you” disappears from a comment section. No court in the world, no charter, no constitutional article defines the right to a high density of profanity in public discourse.

Profanity filters suppress a predefined list of offensive words—and additionally allow platform operators to create their own blocklists for specific contexts. This is not censorship. This is the digital equivalent of house rules that apply in every restaurant, every swimming pool, every public space: no insults.

No one would think of calling the ban on the word “Fucker” at a child’s birthday party a restriction of free speech. On the internet, suddenly different standards apply—and that is a political decision, not a technical necessity.

What Platforms Could Do — And Why They Don’t

The most effective strategy is a hybrid approach: keyword and regex filters for the quick, reliable blocking of obvious curse words—and machine learning for more nuanced, context-dependent cases. The first step—curse words—is literally a list. A text file. No AI lab, no billion-dollar investment, no philosophical dilemma.

So why doesn’t it happen? Because outrage generates engagement. Because provocation drives clicks. Because a user who is outraged stays on the platform longer than one having a factual exchange. Meta itself reports that around 18 to 22 percent of all comments on Facebook pages contain spam, offensive content, or violations of the terms of service. This is not a failure—it is a business model.

The Age Ban Protects the Wrong People

A minimum age of 14 protects nine-year-old children—assuming age verification works, which is technically and legally anything but trivial. At the EU level, work is underway on the European Digital Identity Wallet as an age verification system, set to be rolled out by the end of 2026. Good. But what about 15-year-olds? 17-year-olds? Adults?

The curse word that hurts a child also hurts a woman, an elderly person, someone in a life crisis. The poisoning of the digital space is not a children’s problem. It is a societal problem—and the age ban does not address it; it only shifts it.

If a platform is unable or unwilling to remove “Motherfucker” from its comment sections, it does not have an age problem. It has an attitude problem.

A Place of Prayer — Not a Place for Filth

Social media is not just entertainment and argument. It is also a place of prayer. Every day, millions of people on Instagram, Facebook, and TikTok share their morning prayers, their gratitude, their spiritual reflections—Muslims post their Fajr prayers in the early hours, Christians share Psalms and intercessions, Jews proclaim their Shabbat to the world. Anyone who has ever searched the hashtag #prayer knows: this space is used intensely and sincerely—by people of all faiths, all age groups, all continents. The fact that unfiltered cursing, insults, and vulgar language circulate unchecked in this very space is not just a pedagogical problem—it is a question of respect for the sacred. No house of worship in the world would tolerate obscenities on its walls. So why does the internet?

What Should Actually Be Demanded

The demand is simple, and it is reasonable: Every platform operating in the EU must demonstrably and by default filter profanity and offensive language platform-wide—not optionally, not just on corporate pages, not just upon request. For everyone. Always.

The Digital Services Act already obliges very large online platforms to actively mitigate societal risks and balance commercial interests with the protection of user rights. This obligation must be made concrete—with measurable standards and tangible penalties.

Austria and Europe are on the right path if they increase pressure on tech giants. But as long as this pressure is exhausted in age bans and not in concrete content obligations, we are protecting children from social media—but not social media from itself.

Yet the first step would be so simple: a list. A filter. One word less.

By Okay Altinisik | 27-5-2026, 20:02:12