In an era of increasing social isolation, platforms like Facebook and Twitter are among the most important tools we have to understand each other. However, social media can also lead to polarization and misunderstanding as author Chris Bail discusses in this episode of Democracy Works.
Gen Z is quietly leaving social media as algorithmic feeds, infinite scroll, and addictive platform design fuel anxiety, isolation, and mental health struggles.
Lately, it seems like each time I reach out to an old acquaintance through social media, I’m met with a page that reads, “This account doesn’t exist anymore.”
Many Gen-Z’ers are quietly quitting the platforms we grew up on.
This is understandable. While designed to be a public space spurring connection, many of these platforms now do the opposite: They are driving young people apart and making us more isolated.
The solution, however, should not be quiet quitting: Instead, young people need our legislators to hold Big Tech accountable for making these platforms usable and sustainable, instead of yet another tool to exploit our vulnerabilities. We need legislation that makes social media social again.
Ironically, although up to 95% of teens use social media daily, young people feel more isolated than ever. Over 60% have reported feeling no real sense of identity. And those who reported higher use of these “social” platforms were substantially more likely to experience depression, anxiety, and other negative mental health impacts.
This is not a coincidence. It is by design. While many platforms originated out of a desire to connect people, their business models have largely shifted to prioritize profit over their consumers. Their product design reflects this.
For example, in 2016, Instagram, Meta, and Twitter removed chronological feeds, which listed posts from people you follow in the order they were posted. Instead, they introduced algorithmic feeds, collecting user data in order to push trending or “relevant” content. Research has found that these algorithmic feeds rely heavily on sensationalist content that garners intense emotion to keep users engaged for longer. This longer engagement prompts the algorithm to show similar types of content, starting a negative feedback loop. For example, a study from the Center for Countering Digital Hate found that YouTube users who express interest in fitness or dieting are often then pushed content that worsens body image.
Similarly, the introduction of short-form video platforms like TikTok and Instagram brought with it the infinite scroll. Long gone are the days when you could scroll to the bottom of the page and be told that “you’re all caught up.” Instead, these platforms offer a never-ending feed of content. When paired with predatory algorithmic feeds, this infinite feed creates an addictive dopamine loop, which can disrupt sleep patterns and trigger anxiousness around “missing out.” Research has found that infinite scrolls are particularly dangerous to young people, who have not yet fully developed impulse control.
Frustrated parents and teachers often argue that young people should just put down their phones or delete their social media. Some young people can do this. But for others, social media is the only landscape they know. It’s their primary means to connect with their friends and family.
Moreover, some young people literally cannot put down the phone: Internal documents from Meta and YouTube showed these platforms knew the features they implemented were addictive, yet still released them. In March, these companies lost a landmark social media case, finding them liable for creating addictive platforms.
As the name would imply, social media platforms were meant to be social–not money grabs. My generation, and those behind us, need that to be true again. As the recent Meta case showed, we cannot depend on tech companies to voluntarily change their predatory practices. Instead, we need regulations to call them to account.
We are starting to see efforts across the country to do so. On April 29th, Michigan’s state senate passed SB 757, as part of the “Kids Over Clicks” legislative package, which would prohibit minors from addictive, data-driven algorithms. Also in April, Massachusetts’ governor called for the disabling of infinite scroll and autoplay for users who are determined to be under 18. These policy efforts are a great first step, but they are not enough. We must continue this momentum across the state and federal levels.
Young people across the country have been calling for design-based regulation, like allowing the disabling of infinite scroll and algorithmic feeds, as well as better labeling of sensitive content. If legislators heed the call by making social media companies accountable, they can once again become a place where young people can talk, exchange ideas, and build a long-term culture that gives us a real sense of purpose. Putting the social back in social media is necessary to uphold the social fabric of my generation.
Sparkle Rainey is a youth activist and communications director at Young People’s Alliance. She is a Public Voices Fellow on Youth Well-Being and Power with The OpEd Project and Hopelab.
People gather at the National September 11 Memorial & Museum on September 8, 2025, in New York City.
After the smoke cleared from the September 11, 2001, attacks, New York City faced the immense task of rebuilding.
Why is this story relevant today?
The question New Yorkers faced after 9/11—who determines our collective future—remains central to the challenges confronting America today.
In the months following the attacks, after the debris was cleared and the initial shock subsided, New Yorkers faced a fundamental dilemma: What should be built at Ground Zero, and who should decide? Some advocated for rebuilding the Twin Towers, while others insisted the site remain a memorial. The conflict was intense, emotional, and appeared irreconcilable.
In response, “THE LOWER MAHATTEN DEVELOPMENT CORPORATION” undertook an unprecedented initiative. It convened 5,000 representative New Yorkers for the largest town hall in American history. Expectations were low, with many anticipating discord and disorder.
Instead, a genuine democratic process unfolded.
Despite profound disagreements, New Yorkers listened, deliberated, and ultimately reached consensus on a plan that commemorated the deceased, honored survivors, and reflected the community’s collective will.
This outcome hinged on a single catalytic event: a gathering that united individuals in an unexpected and transformative manner.
The result was both constructive and deeply meaningful. This experience offers a lesson for a nation grappling with division: meaningful democratic outcomes depend on robust democratic processes.
Carolyn Lukensmeyer played a central role in this process as the architect of Listening to the City, the 2002 public forum that empowered thousands of New Yorkers to influence the future of Ground Zero. The event led to significant changes: participant feedback shaped the final design to include both the Memorial and the Museum, guided the integration of green space, and ensured that victims’ families and the broader community were honored throughout the rebuilding process. This initiative not only transformed the physical site but also established a benchmark for public decision-making in cities nationwide. As a nationally recognized leader in democratic innovation and founder of AmericaSpeaks, Carolyn has advised cities, states, federal agencies, and international institutions on effective public engagement.
View the official trailer and consider the following:
What might be possible if towns, cities, and states across America adopted this approach to constructive dialogue in addressing their most challenging issues? For community leaders or individuals seeking to foster collaboration, the following steps are recommended: invite a small, diverse group of community members for an initial discussion; identify a pressing local issue; establish ground rules that promote respectful listening; and seek assistance from a trained facilitator or an organization experienced in open dialogue. The initial step is to gather and listen. Subsequently, partners can be enlisted, a neutral venue secured, and a broader range of participants invited. Even a straightforward, honest conversation can initiate meaningful progress.
On May 21 in Cape May, New Jersey, the Cape May Point Arts and Science Center will present “9/11: Reclaiming Ground Zero.” The event will include a full one-hour screening of the documentary, followed by a discussion with the filmmakers and leaders in democratic innovation, an audience Q&A session, and a closing reception.
If you are interested in organizing a similar event in your community, please contact Josh Sabey co-founder of Matters Media at js@mattersmedia.orgDavid Nevins is the publisher of The Fulcrum and co-founder and board chairman of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund.
When the World goes Mad, one must accept Madness as Sanity, since Sanity is, in the last analysis, nothing but the Madness on which the Whole World happens to agree. (George Bernard Shaw)
Among the most prolific and famous playwrights of the 20th century, Shaw wrote “Pygmalion,” the play upon which “My Fair Lady” was based. Pygmalion was a Greek mythological figure, a sculptor from Cyprus, who fell in love with the statue he created. Aphrodite turned his sculpture into a real woman, promoting the idea that the “created” is greater than the “creator.”
There is a positive benefit to high expectations about belief in creation, one that wise parents frequently employ: the “Pygmalion effect.” Basically, it is a self-fulfilling prophecy: Tell your child he can, and the chances greatly increase that he will.
Yet, there is a negative connotation as well, a dangerous assumption, whether we’re talking politics, religion, or new innovations.
That is: what we believe to be true becomes true.
We cannot turn on a television, open a computer, pick up a newspaper, or magazine without encountering a new development in Artificial Intelligence (AI) and its ever-increasing grip on the world.
With fear and trepidation, many of us believe we are, or soon will be, at the mercy of AI. We see AI as a modern-day King Kong, unleashed and ruthlessly ravaging our society, embodying all the gorilla-monster’s savage single-mindedness.
We then essentially assume the role of Fay Wray, also known as the “Scream Queen,” who played the “damsel-in-distress” in the 1933 King Kong movie. There is no place to hide from this ferocious giant; we have no recourse. Our only hope is to be somehow rescued.
But how will our hoped-for “rescue” from total domination by the cold, virtual “machine” dubbed AI happen? How will we and our society survive if “Hal” is running the show? Meanwhile, the Titans of the AI industry, Elon Musk and Sam Altman, duke it out in court as to who will “rule the empire.”
Are we really so helpless in the wake of this “invasion?” Have we succumbed to the usual societal symptom of throwing ourselves at the mercy of the latest technological advances?
We use them excessively because we can.
But, if we do not employ discernment, aren’t we just guzzling the latest flavor of the Kool-Aid?
AI’s promotion and promises are meaningless unless they make a real connection to society’s betterment or to our personal benefit. The length of its leash is only as long as we unravel it.
AI’s potential is amazing, astounding, and astronomical. With our “combined knowledge,” we can cut processing, compare statistics, weigh possible outcomes, and summarize mountains of paperwork. Medically AI shows itself to be more phenomenal with each passing week.
New on the horizon is a Character AI called Pygmalion, which allows us to define character parameters without filters. Do we really believe it can empathize, can fulfill us? Or are we allocating our precious humanness to the diamond brilliance of perfection, forgetting the only “perfect diamond” is a fake diamond and not a diamond at all?
Society is—finally—recognizing the dangers of our social media obsession. We are not laboratory rats; we are not lemmings. “Influencers” can only influence us if we let them. We do not have to buy into it, and there is a movement towards authenticity.
Time for a similar reaction to the A-I phenomena, and the grim predictions concerning it.
Who is not tired of “answers” to all the “questions,” without discussion, sick of going to dinner when the diners talk more to Siri or Chat GPT than to each other? Are we all suffering from short-term memory loss and cannot remember the dislocation and isolation of the Co-Vid epidemic, how we longed for “real” connection?
AI, in condensed form, is a sum of our human knowledge, but without the humanity. It has already proven itself a valuable tool in our “toolbox.” Nonetheless, it is a tool.
It is more essential than ever to be able to tell the real from the fake. We must know where the decimal point goes, what is genuine, and what is virtual. Machines have helped us for centuries with menial tasks, and AI can help us with mental ones. But we must be able to discern.
The only path to developing this discernment is education. A popular belief of those growing up in the “electronic age” is that they can delegate their work to AI, that it is no longer necessary to have fundamental knowledge of the humanities, sciences, etc. This theory, if carried forward, will put future generations at the “mercy “of A-I.
We must understand the context. The truest value remains the human connection; the true connection is human values.
Throughout history, our innovations have changed the world: the Stone Age, the Bronze Age, the Iron Age, the Industrial Age, the Information Age, and now, on the brink of yet another breakthrough.
Let us decide what course we will pursue with AI, and how we can better our world with it. In this latest innovation of the information age, moral courage is required, and discernment is essential.
Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of our own minds. (Emerson)
Amy Lockard is an Iowa resident who regularly contributes to regional newspapers and periodicals. She is working on the second of a four-book fictional series based on Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice."
In March, First Lady Melania Trump hosted an AI-powered humanoid robot at the White House during the Fostering the Future Together Global Coalition Summit, and introduced Plato, a humanoid educator marketed as a replacement for teachers that could homeschool children. A humanoid educator that speaks multiple languages, is always available, and draws on a vast store of information could expand access in meaningful ways. But the evidence suggests that the risks outweigh the benefits, that adoption will be uneven, and that the families most likely to adopt Plato will bear those risks disproportionately.
Research on excessive technology use in childhood has found consistent results. Young children and teenagers who spend too much time with screens are more likely to experience reduced physical activity, lower attention spans, depression, and social anxiety. On the same day that Melania Trump introduced Plato, a California jury ruled that Meta and YouTube contributed to anxiety and depression in a woman who began using social media at age 6, a reminder that the consequences of under-tested technology on children can be severe and long-lasting.
The concern with technology use goes beyond screen time. A 2024 study by researchers at MIT's Media Lab found that reliance on generative AI chatbots reduces learning retention and critical thinking, the very outcomes Melania Trump claimed Plato would foster. Child development research has shown that for children to develop resilience and independent reasoning, they need to experience difficulty, struggle, and sometimes fail. A robot that is, by design, always patient and always available interrupts this learning process. Far from producing "deep critical thinking," an educator who never challenges a child to sit with confusion is likely to produce the opposite.
Traditional schooling provides something no information-rich robot can replicate. It offers structured opportunities to practice teamwork, communication, and conflict resolution alongside peers and imperfect adults—skills that are crucial to becoming a productive adult.
The broader impact of introducing humanoid educators is even more alarming. A shift to humanoid teachers will reorganize existing educational inequalities in the U.S. The exploding costs of childcare and K-12 education already strain families across the country. For middle- and low-income families searching for solutions, a humanoid educator backed by the First Lady may seem like a viable path forward. In reality, these families and their children would unknowingly become unpaid beta testers for an unproven product, one that the developers themselves may not use on their own kids. Several tech company CEOs, including Mark Zuckerberg, Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, and Evan Spiegel, have spoken openly about limiting their children’s screen time. Even Elon Musk, who admitted he set no such limits, has since said he regrets it, noting that algorithms had reshaped how his children think.
The resulting landscape would look like this: a competent human teacher becomes a luxury service accessible only to the ultra-rich; middle-class families turn to humanoid robots for some semblance of pedagogy; and low-income families continue to face the compounding disadvantages of under-resourced schools. The gap widens, and it just wears a new face.
Supporters of humanoid educators may argue that they are tackling a shortage of qualified teachers. But this framing misses the actual problem. The United States does not have a shortage of qualified teachers; it has a shortage of funding for them. Redirecting resources toward humanoid robots does not solve that problem; it deepens it. Every dollar invested in Plato is a dollar not spent on teacher salaries, classroom resources, or the school infrastructure that students in under-resourced communities desperately need. Framing a funding failure as a supply problem and then selling a technology product as the fix masks who benefits and who pays the price.
There is also a safety dimension that cannot be glossed over. There have been documented instances of generative AI chatbots encouraging teenagers to self-harm. Deploying an untested humanoid robot, one that does not understand ethics, context, or the emotional vulnerability of a child, as a primary educator introduces serious and poorly understood risks. Before Plato or any similar product is rolled out at scale, those risks need to be studied rigorously, not discovered after the fact. Children deserve better than to be the experiment.
Congress should mandate multi-stakeholder research into humanoid educators, funded by the AI companies developing these products and conducted in genuine collaboration with K-12 educators, higher education researchers, child development specialists, and the families who would be most affected. The research should assess impacts on learning retention, critical thinking, social development, and child safety, with findings made public before any large-scale deployment.
Dr. Erezi Ogbo-Gebhardt is an assistant professor of information science at North Carolina Central University’s School of Library and Information Sciences, and a Public Voices Fellow on technology in the public interest with The OpEd Project.
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