At What Age Should a Child Be Allowed Social Media?

Your eight-year-old asks for an account because three friends already have one. You hesitate, you say "maybe when you're older", and then you realise you have no idea what "older" actually means. Is it 13? Is it 16? Is it whenever everyone else's parents cave?

That question has just become a national one. On 15 June 2026, Prime Minister Keir Starmer announced the UK will ban under-16s from social media, with legislation expected before Parliament before Christmas and the first rules potentially taking effect in spring 2027. Suddenly there is a legal number in the conversation. But a law arriving in 2027 does not help the parent standing in the kitchen tonight.

So let's do the calmer thing. Let's look at the actual ages in play, work out why they disagree with each other, and build a way to decide for your own child — rather than just waiting for Westminster to decide for you.

The three ages that matter: 13, 14, 16

There are three numbers parents bump into, and they pull in different directions. The first is 13 — the minimum age most major platforms set for an account. It feels official, almost like a safety rating, and most families treat it as the line.

The second is 14. That comes from the social psychologist Jonathan Haidt, whose 2024 book "The Anxious Generation" lays out four norms for a healthier childhood: no smartphone before 14, no social media before 16, phone-free schools, and far more independent real-world play. Notice he separates the phone from the apps — a deliberate distinction we'll come back to.

The third is 16. That is the age the UK ban will set, and the age Australia already enforces. On 15 June 2026 the government confirmed the UK will model its approach on Australia but go further, with extra limits on the features judged most harmful to children, and multimillion-pound fines for platforms that fail to keep under-16s off.

So 13 is what the companies allow, 14 is when an expert says a phone is manageable, and 16 is where two governments have now drawn the legal line. Three different answers to one question — which is exactly why it feels so confusing. The gap between them isn't an accident. It tells you something about where each number came from.

Why 13 was never really about safety

Here is the part most parents are never told. The age of 13 has almost nothing to do with whether a 13-year-old is ready for social media. It is a data-protection number, not a child-development one.

It traces back to rules about how companies are allowed to collect and process data from children. Below a certain age, a platform needs a parent's consent to gather a child's information — so the companies simply set their minimum age just above that threshold and let everyone else sign up freely. The "13" you see is the age at which it became commercially convenient to stop asking permission, not the age a developmental expert chose.

That matters because it reframes the whole question. When you let a child join at 13, you are not clearing a safety bar that someone carefully set. You are clearing an administrative one. Nobody assessed your child. Nobody weighed up the algorithm, the comparison, the late-night scrolling. A form simply asked for a birth year and believed the answer.

And plenty of children don't even wait for 13. Around 60% of children aged 8 to 12 who use social media already have their own profile, according to Statista and Ofcom figures, despite that supposed minimum age. The number on the sign-up page turns out to be less of a gate and more of a polite suggestion. Once you understand that, the experts' very different answer starts to make a lot more sense.

What the experts now say

The advice has shifted, and it has shifted upwards. Jonathan Haidt's headline rule is blunt: no social media before 16. Not 13, not "when they seem mature" — 16. His reasoning is that the early teens are precisely when the social comparison and validation loops do the most damage, and that pushing the start line back gives a young brain room to settle first.

He pairs that with the no-smartphone-before-14 norm, which is why the two numbers shouldn't be lumped together. A simpler phone for safety and texting at 13 or 14 is a different decision from a feed-driven app designed to hold attention. Treating "a phone" and "social media" as one thing is one of the easiest mistakes to make.

Governments have now landed close to Haidt's line. Australia's social media minimum-age law passed in November 2024 and enforcement began on 10 December 2025, with a minimum age of 16. By mid-December 2025, platforms had removed access to 4.7 million under-16 accounts, according to the eSafety Commissioner. The UK announcement of 15 June 2026 follows the same age and, the government says, goes further still.

Parents, broadly, are with this. Around 79% of parents say they are worried about how much time children spend on screens and gaming, and in Australia 76% of people support the ban, according to data reported by Mi3. The grassroots Smartphone Free Childhood movement, founded in February 2024 by Daisy Greenwell and Clare Fernyhough, has thousands of UK parents signing a pact to delay smartphones together — so no single family has to be the only one saying no.

How to decide for your own child

A law sets a floor, not a finish line. Even with a ban arriving, you are still the one who decides what happens in your home before 2027 — and what the first day of "yes" looks like when it eventually comes. So judge readiness, not just the birthday.

A few honest questions are worth more than a number. Can your child put a screen down when asked without it ruining the evening? Do they tell you when something online upsets them, or do they go quiet? Have they shown they can keep a small worry in perspective rather than spiralling? Readiness is a pattern of behaviour, not an age you tick off.

It also helps to separate the decisions. The phone, the messaging, the social feeds and the games are four different doors, and you don't have to open them all at once. A basic phone for walking home, with messaging apps like WhatsApp — which the UK ban specifically excludes — is a far smaller step than a full account on a feed-based platform.

And worth knowing before you lean on the law to do the work: in Australia, 41% of under-16s have tried to bypass the ban and 43% of parents say their child has tried to get around it, with 78% of under-16s still reaching the platforms, according to Mi3. A rule that isn't backed by a family habit is easy to dodge. The most powerful tool you have isn't the ban — it's the years beforehand, and what you fill them with.

The years before social media — make them count

Here is the quietly hopeful bit. Whether the line in your house ends up at 13, 14 or 16, you are looking at years of childhood that happen before any account exists. Those years are not a waiting room. They are the main event.

This is the other half of Haidt's argument, the part that gets lost behind the bans. He contrasts a "phone-based childhood" with a "play-based childhood" — and the play-based one is the goal, not merely the absence of screens. Independent, unstructured, screen-free play is where attention, resilience, social skill and patience are actually built. The point isn't to keep children away from something; it's to fill the time with something better.

That something is easier than the headlines make it feel. A board on the floor, a few wooden pieces, a rainy Sunday. The AntiScreen movement gathers free, practical guidance for families who want more real play and fewer feeds, especially in the under-5 years when 37% of parents already report a child using social media.

It's also where a worry that started in this article quietly resolves. The number you choose matters far less if the childhood underneath it is rich. A child who has spent years learning to lose a game of Ludo gracefully, to build and rebuild a tower, to entertain themselves on a wet afternoon, arrives at any age line steadier than one who never had to. The screens will come. The question is what's already there when they do — and there is real educational play ready to fill those years.

Real play that fills the gap

Two pieces do a lot of the work for the under-7 years: a first family board game that teaches taking turns and losing well, and a set of open-ended blocks that never runs out of ideas. Both are made the traditional way by Jaques of London, est. 1795, in FSC-certified timber with non-toxic, water-based paints.

Snakes & Ladders with Ludo (Family)

Age 3–7 · Bright reversible board for first family game nights. £14.98

Shape Building Blocks

Age 1–7 · Chunky wooden shapes for little hands. £17.99

Looking for more? Browse our gifts for kids, the educational toys for toddlers range, our baby learning toys, or the wider toys collection. For the open-ended stacking that grows with them, the Rainbow Building Blocks and the Alphabet Wooden Blocks are firm favourites.

Frequently Asked Questions

For more on what sits underneath these decisions, read Social Media and Children's Mental Health: What the Research Really Says, and if you're worried about your child being the only one without an account, How to Raise a Screen-Free Child Without Making Them the Odd One Out is the practical companion to this piece.