There's no doubt we are living through one of the fastest technological shifts in human history. A generation ago, parents worried about what their children watched on television. Today, our children carry the internet in their pockets, and they spend several hours a day online. Social media has become woven into almost every aspect of daily life. It's how young people communicate, learn, socialise and understand the world around them. The opportunities are extraordinary, but so too are the risks.
Across my community, I've heard from countless parents who are deeply concerned about what their children are seeing online, often in the privacy of their bedrooms. They tell me they're struggling to keep up with technologies that seem to evolve faster than families can adapt. They worry about exposure to violent content; harmful algorithms; cyberbullying; scams; predatory, paedophilic behaviour; and the relentless pressure that social media can place on young people's mental health. These concerns are real, and they deserve to be taken seriously.
When Australia's world-first social media minimum age laws came into force in December last year, there was broad agreement that something needed to change, but there were also significant warnings from technical experts, mental health organisations and online safety specialists that we were legislating before many of the practical questions had been answered. There were concerns that—without meaningful and longer consultation, without robust evidence and without a credible implementation strategy—children would simply find ways around the restrictions. Unfortunately, much of that has proven to be true.
Shortly after the laws came into effect, the eSafety Commissioner reported that around 4.7 million age restricted accounts had been removed from social media platforms. That sounds significant, but, only a few months later, the commissioner's own reporting showed that around 70 per cent of children who had accounts before the ban were still accessing restricted platforms. I've heard the exact same story from families in my electorate. Parents tell me that their children know exactly how to get around restrictions. Young people have shown me themselves just how straightforward it can be to bypass the age checks using false birth dates and VPNs and even by drawing beards with pen on their chins or with other workarounds. This should concern us all because, when a child lies about their age to gain access, they're not entering a version of these platforms designed for children. They're entering platforms that are designed for adults that are simply not safe for them.
Implementing a ban has removed the obligation for platforms to make their content safe, and the additional safeguards that might otherwise apply disappear. The algorithms treat them as adults, the content they are recommended changes and the protections that we intended to provide can be lost entirely. Added to this is the reality that legislation is only as effective as its enforcement, which brings me to the bill before the House today.
The Online Safety Amendment (Strengthening Enforcement for the Social Media Minimum Age) Bill 2026 gives the eSafety Commissioner stronger powers to investigate whether digital platforms are genuinely meeting their legal obligations. It expands the commissioner's ability to compel documents and information from social media companies and other relevant organisations, allowing closer scrutiny of the systems they have put in place to enforce minimum age requirements. It also substantially increases the penalties for companies that fail to comply. These are really sensible reforms, and I welcome them.
We already know that the eSafety Commissioner is examining whether several major platforms are meeting their obligations under the law. Strengthening the commissioner's investigative powers and increasing the consequences for noncompliance will better equip the regulator to hold companies to account. For those reasons, I support the bill, but supporting this bill does not mean pretending it solves every problem. There remain important questions about the broader impacts of minimum age laws themselves.
Throughout the original debate, many mental health organisations cautioned against assuming that simply removing young people from social media would automatically improve their well-being. Their concern was not that online harms do not exist. They clearly do. Their concern was that many young people also rely on online spaces for connection, support and belonging. That remains true today.
For many young Australians, social media is where they access news, educational content and creative learning. It's where they stay connected with friends and family. It is where they participate in their communities and engage in public debate. This is particularly true for the LGBTQIA+ young people, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander young people, culturally and linguistically diverse communities, young people living in regional and remote Australia and young Australians living with disability. For many of these young people, online communities can provide support, understanding and connection that may not be available in their immediate surroundings.
The challenge before us has never been simply about removing children from online spaces. It's about making these online spaces safer for all users in the first place. This bill does not fix the underlying problem that too many digital platforms remain fundamentally unsafe by design. That's why I believe one of the most important pieces of unfinished work before this parliament is the government's proposed digital duty of care. Done properly, this has the potential to be genuinely transformative.
A digital duty of care represents a public health approach to online safety. Rather than responding only to harm after it occurs, it requires companies to identify foreseeable risks and take reasonable steps to prevent them from before they occur. It shifts the responsibility upstream. Instead of asking families to navigate increasingly sophisticated technologies alone, it places obligations on the companies designing those technologies. It would require platforms to think much more carefully about the products they build, the algorithm recommendation systems they deploy and the incentives they create. It means moving beyond simply removing harmful content after it has spread. It means asking whether algorithms should be amplifying that content in the first place.
It also means giving people the power to create their algorithms and to opt out of harmful algorithms—to opt out of content like eating disorder content, self-harm or misogynistic content. This is something that Chanel Contos and Teach Us Consent are calling for—that power for individuals to curate their own algorithms and make sure that they're not getting content that they just do not want to see.
It also means expecting companies developing AI powered services, chatbots and digital platforms to consider how their products might affect children and vulnerable users before those products are released into the world. That is what safe by design should mean, because, ultimately, we cannot regulate our way out of this challenge simply by telling children to stay away. We must also expect the companies making billions of dollars from Australia to build products that are safe for users.
This bill is a worthwhile step towards stronger enforcement, and I'm pleased to support it, but I also encourage the government to be equally ambitious in what comes next. As it develops the digital duty of care, I urge the government to continue consulting widely with parents, educators, mental health experts, technical specialists, young people themselves and the broader community. If we get this right, Australia has the opportunity to lead the world not just in restricting access but in creating digital spaces that are genuinely safer, healthier and better designed for everyone.
1 July 2026