John Naughton, a professor at the Open University in the U.K. and a columnist for the U.K. Guardian, has a new essay out entitled “Only a Fool or Nicolas Sarkozy Would Go to War with Facebook.” I enjoyed it because it touches upon two interrelated concepts that I’ve spent years writing about: “moral panic” and “third-person effect hypothesis” (although Naughton doesn’t discuss the latter by name in his piece.) To recap, let’s define those terms:

“Moral Panic” / “Techno-Panic“: Christopher Ferguson, a professor at Texas A&M’s Department of Behavioral, Applied Sciences and Criminal Justice, offers the following definition: “A moral panic occurs when a segment of society believes that the behavior or moral choices of others within that society poses a significant risk to the society as a whole.” By extension, a “techno-panic” is simply a moral panic that centers around societal fears about a specific contemporary technology (or technological activity) instead of merely the content flowing over that technology or medium.

“Third-Person Effect Hypothesis“: First formulated by psychologist W. Phillips Davison in 1983, “this hypothesis predicts that people will tend to overestimate the influence that mass communications have on the attitudes and behavior of others. More specifically, individuals who are members of an audience that is exposed to a persuasive communication (whether or not this communication is intended to be persuasive) will expect the communication to have a greater effect on others than on themselves.” While originally formulated as an explanation for how people convinced themselves “media bias” existed where none was present, the third-person-effect hypothesis has provided an explanation for other phenomenon and forms of regulation, especially content censorship. Indeed, one of the most intriguing aspects about censorship efforts historically is that it is apparent that many censorship advocates desire regulation to protect others, not themselves, from what they perceive to be persuasive or harmful content. That is, many people imagine themselves immune from the supposedly ill effects of “objectionable” material, or even just persuasive communications or viewpoints they do not agree with, but they claim it will have a corrupting influence on others.

All my past essays about moral panics and third-person effect hypothesis can be found here. These theories are also frequently on display in the work of some of the “Internet pessimists” I have written about here, as well as in many bills and regulatory proposals floated by lawmakers. Which brings us back to the Naughton essay.

Naughton comments on French president Nicolas Sarkozy’s recent speech at the eG8 summit, which many regarded as an attack on the Internet and online freedoms. Naughton argues:

in a way, he was just acting as a mouthpiece for the political, judicial, commercial and security establishments which are becoming increasingly hysterical about the way the internet is upending their respective applecarts. In that sense, Sarky was echoing the fulminations of England’s lord chief justice that “technology is out of control”, by which he meant, as Peter Preston has pointed out, is beyond his control. Establishment panic about the net’s disruptiveness is matched by renewed outbreaks of an age-old neurosis – moral panic about the impact of new communications technology on young people. This was fuelled last week by a report that Facebook was going to allow children under the age of 13 to become members. US law currently insists that websites that collect information about users (as Facebook does) aren’t allowed to sign on anyone under the age of 13.

I think Naughton’s probably on to something here. I’m not quite sure Sarkozy’s speech fit the classic “moral panic” model, but I did sense a bit of third-person effect hypothesis at work in some of Sarkozy’s comments.  Naughton continues on to discuss the rising fears about social networking sites in particular and notes “the fixed conviction of the adult world that young people are being seduced, hoodwinked, fixated, dumbed down (insert favourite downside here) by Facebook and Twitter.”  To this concern Naughton rightly notes:

Much of the moral panic about social networking is a projection of adult fears. A neurosis, as Ken Tynan wisely observed, is a secret that you don’t know you’re keeping. Many teenagers do silly things online; what their parents forget is that they also did silly things in their youth.

Quite right. This is actually a very old story. From the waltz to rock and roll to rap music, from movies to comic books to video games, from radio and television to the Internet and social networking websites—every new media format or technology spawns a fresh debate about the potential negative effects it might have on kids. In each case, the adult generation forgets they, too, were once kids and somehow got through the trials and tribulations of the adolescent experience.

The late University of North Carolina journalism professor Margaret A. Blanchard once noted: “[P]arents and grandparents who lead the efforts to cleanse today’s society seem to forget that they survived alleged attacks on their morals by different media when they were children. Each generation’s adults either lose faith in the ability of their young people to do the same or they become convinced that the dangers facing the new generation are much more substantial than the ones they faced as children.” And Thomas Hine, author of The Rise and Fall of the American Teenager, argues that: “We seem to have moved, without skipping a beat, from blaming our parents for the ills of society to blaming our children. We want them to embody virtues we only rarely practice. We want them to eschew habits we’ve never managed to break.”

What is needed, as I argued in my old book on Parental Controls and Online Child Protection, is a measured and balanced approach to children’s exposure to media content and online interactions — whether the fear is objectionable content or privacy.  All-or-nothing extremes are not going to work. In particular, fear-mongering and “techno-panics” are never the proper response. “Fear, in many cases, is leading to overreaction, which in turn could give rise to greater problems as young people take detours around the roadblocks we think we are erecting,” argue John Palfrey and Urs Gasser, authors of the brilliant recent book, Born Digital: Understanding the First Generation of Digital Natives. What parents, guardians, and educators need to understand, they argue, “is that the traditional values and common sense that have served them well in the past will be relevant in this new world, too.”

That is good advice to parents and policymakers alike.

I spend a lot of time here trying to debunk media “moral panics,” “techno-panics,” or unfounded hysteria over the impact of commercialism in general on kids. To believe what some politicians and regulatory agitators have to say, today’s youth always seem at the precipice of the moral abyss.  Our misguided youth are seemingly all going straight to hell and they dragging our culture and society down with them.

Except they’re not. It’s all the same old tripe we’ve heard one generation after another.  As the late University of North Carolina journalism professor Margaret A. Blanchard once noted: “[P]arents and grandparents who lead the efforts to cleanse today’s society seem to forget that they survived alleged attacks on their morals by different media when they were children. Each generation’s adults either lose faith in the ability of their young people to do the same or they become convinced that the dangers facing the new generation are much more substantial than the ones they faced as children.” And Thomas Hine, author of The Rise and Fall of the American Teenager, argues that: “We seem to have moved, without skipping a beat, from blaming our parents for the ills of society to blaming our children. We want them to embody virtues we only rarely practice. We want them to eschew habits we’ve never managed to break.”

Anyway, I was reminded of this again today as I was finally reading through a report published last year by the U.K.’s Department for Children, Schools and Families and the Department for Culture, Media and Sport. It’s entitled “The Impact of the Commercial World on Children’s Wellbeing” and it is very much worth your attention. Several people had recommended I check it out in recent months, but I’m ashamed to say I am only now getting around to it as I prepare an amicus brief for the Supreme Court’s review of a California video game law.  But this U.K. report is not to be missed. Here are a few of the choice bits from the study:

On moral panics generally:

Concerns about the harmful effects of popular culture on children and young people have a very long history, dating back well before electronic technology. These concerns reflect much more general anxieties about the future direction of society; but, as several studies have shown, they can also be inflamed and manipulated by those with much broader political, moral or religious motivations. These concerns occasionally reach the level of a ‘moral panic’, in which particular social groups and practices are publicly demonised – often on the basis of what are ultimately found to be quite spurious accusations. Perhaps paradoxically, such stories also play well in the media themselves, often receiving extensive and highly sensational coverage. (p. 25)

On “blaming commercialism” for the woes of the world:

Children’s growing access to media and technology, and the apparent increase in ‘commercialism’, are often cited as key reasons for this apparent corruption of childhood innocence. According to this view, childhood used to be a non-commercial experience: children were kept away from the sordid realities of the economy, and from the deceitful appeals of advertisers. But as commercialism has increasingly dominated childhood, and as children have come to be seen as ‘fair game’ for marketers, the freedom and innocence of childhood have been destroyed. These kinds of arguments have been made many times over the years by commentators from a wide range of political, moral and religious persuasions. Indeed, they can be seen as part of a long-standing tradition in Western social thought that dates back at least to the Romantics. This is a long and complex tradition, which has motivated significant reforms in children’s lives – for example through the work of writers such as Blake and Dickens and campaigners such as Shaftesbury. However, in some respects it has also entailed a resistance to modernity. Modern technology, urbanisation, consumer capitalism, the pressure to compete, and the ‘speed’ of contemporary life have all been cited as the villains of the piece; and there is a strong sense of nostalgia for a simpler, slower time, a rural idyll of family togetherness and spontaneous play, in which ‘children could be children’. (p. 26)

On how childhood is represented in political debates:

it is important to consider how children and childhood are represented in this debate. The ‘toxic childhood’ approach provides an extremely negative representation of contemporary childhood. Children are portrayed here as vulnerable and helpless victims, rather than in any way resilient or competent – or indeed happy. They are seen to be suffering from a litany of ills and problems: the more positive aspects of modern childhood – for example, in terms of the range of opportunities children enjoy – are largely ignored. The potential benefits of the commercial world, or of modern media and technology, for children are effectively marginalised. The possibility that most children (and their parents) are reasonably well-adjusted and doing fairly well is rarely entertained: the glass is very definitely half-empty. (p. 28)

On causal relationships (or what I refer to as the “monkey-see, monkey-do” theories):

[Another] key problem here is to do with the nature of the causal relationships and explanations that are suggested for the apparent ‘crisis’ of contemporary childhood. There is a persistent logical confusion in these arguments between correlations and causes. The fact that x and y happened at more or less the same time does not in itself mean that x must have caused y, or indeed vice-versa. Even if we can prove an association between x and y (that is, that more of x coincides with more of y), this does not amount to proof of a causal connection. In these debates, the distinctions between symptoms and causes are frequently  blurred; and incompatible or contradictory phenomena are often attributed to the same fundamental cause.  Unfortunately, this is also the case with a good deal of the research in this field. (p. 29)

On “The Limits of Nostolgia”:

Finally, it is important to consider the historical dimension of the argument. There is a very dominant strain of nostalgia here – a looking back to a ‘golden age’ when childhood and family life were apparently harmonious, stable and well-adjusted. But it is often far from clear when that time was, or the social groups to whom this description applies; and the basis on which historical comparisons are being made is frequently unclear. Historical studies of childhood certainly give good grounds for questioning whether such a ‘golden age’ has ever existed: if anything, they would suggest that the lives of children in earlier times were significantly harder than they are today. (p. 29)

Absolutely correct on all those counts.  Of course, I’m cherry-picking a bit here and pulling out the bits with which I find myself in general agreement. The report is more balanced than I’ve suggested here. So read the entire thing for yourself. It’s quite interesting. [More background on it here.]

I’ve just had a new article published by the American Legislative Exchange Council (ALEC) in which I make the case against “techno-panics,” which refers to public and political crusades against the use of new media or technologies by the young. The article is entitled “Parents, Kids & Policymakers in the Digital Age: Safeguarding Against ‘Techno-Panics‘” and it appears in the July 2009 Inside ALEC newsletter.  This is something I have spent a lot of time writing about here in recent years (See 1, 2, 3, 4, 5) and I finally got around to putting it altogether in a concise essay here.  I have pasted the full text below. [And I just want to send a shout-out to my friend Anne Collier of Net Family News.org, whose work on this topic has been very influential on my thinking.]

“Parents, Kids & Policymakers in the Digital Age: Safeguarding Against ‘Techno-Panics‘” by Adam Thierer

A cursory review of the history of media and communications technologies reveals a reoccurring cycle of “techno-panics” — public and political crusades against the use of new media or technologies by the young.  From the waltz to rock-and-roll to rap music, from movies to comic books to video games, from radio and television to the Internet and social networking websites, every new media format or technology has spawned a fresh debate about the potential negative effects they might have on kids.

Inevitably, fueled by media sensationalism and various activist groups, these social and cultural debates quickly become political debates. Indeed, each of the media technologies or outlets mentioned above was either regulated or threatened with regulation at some point in its history. And the cycle continues today. During recent sessions of Congress, countless hearings were held and bills introduced on a wide variety of media and content-related issues. These proposals dealt with broadcast television and radio programming, cable and satellite television content, video games, the Internet, social networking sites, and much more.  State policymakers, especially state Attorneys General (AGs), have also joined in such crusades on occasion.  The recent push by AGs for mandatory age verification for all social networking sites is merely the latest example.

What is perhaps most ironic about these techno-panics is how quickly yesterday’s boogeyman becomes tomorrow’s accepted medium, even as the new villains replace old ones.  For example, the children of the 1950s and 60s were told that Elvis’s hip shakes and the rock-and-roll revolution would make them all the tools of the devil. They grew up fine and became parents themselves, but then promptly began demonizing rap music and video games in the ‘80s and ‘90s.  And now those aging Pac Man-era parents are worried sick about their kids being abducted by predators lurking on MySpace and Facebook. We shouldn’t be surprised if, a decade or two from now, today’s Internet generation will be decrying the dangers of virtual reality.

These techno-panics are almost always disproportionate to the real risk posed by new media and technology, which typically do not have the corrupting influence on youth that older generations fear.  Parents and public policymakers alike need to remember they were once kids, too, and managed to live through many of the same fears and concerns about media and popular culture. As the late University of North Carolina journalism professor Margaret A. Blanchard once noted: “[P]arents and grandparents who lead the efforts to cleanse today’s society seem to forget that they survived alleged attacks on their morals by different media when they were children. Each generation’s adults either lose faith in the ability of their young people to do the same or they become convinced that the dangers facing the new generation are much more substantial than the ones they faced as children.” And Thomas Hine, author of The Rise and Fall of the American Teenager, argues that: “We seem to have moved, without skipping a beat, from blaming our parents for the ills of society to blaming our children. We want them to embody virtues we only rarely practice. We want them to eschew habits we’ve never managed to break.”

The better response by both parents and policymakers is a measured and balanced approach to children’s exposure to media content and online interactions.  All-or-nothing extremes are never going to work.  In particular, techno-panics are hopelessly counter-productive. “Fear, in many cases, is leading to overreaction, which in turn could give rise to greater problems as young people take detours around the roadblocks we think we are erecting,” argue John Palfrey and Urs Gasser, authors of Born Digital: Understanding the First Generation of Digital Natives. What parents, educators, and policymakers need to understand, they argue, “is that the traditional values and common sense that have served them well in the past will be relevant in this new world, too.”

Most simply, we need to be willing to talk to our kids about the new technologies and cultural developments that shape their generation. When we as parents (or policymakers) do not fully comprehend or appreciate the new-fangled gadget in our kids’ pocket—or whatever they are playing, watching, or listening to on it—instead of engaging in demagoguery and driving a wedge between us and them, we should instead invite them to have a conversation with us about it.  Ask three simple questions to get that conversation started: “What is this new thing all about?”  “Tell me how you use it.”  “Why is it important to you?”  Once you’ve got them talking to you, good ‘ol fashion common sense and timeless parenting principles should kick in. “Do you understand why too much of this might be bad for you?” “Will you please come talk to me if you don’t understand something you’ve seen or heard?” And so on.

In sum, it’s about parental responsibility and rational, measured responses. The “techno-panic” mentality, by contrast, creates distrust and distance between our kids and us. As Anne Collier of Net Family News notes, techno-panics “cause fear, which interferes with parent-child communication, which in turn puts kids at greater risk.”

Parents and policymakers need to engage kids in an ongoing conversation about the technologies du jour—even when we don’t fully understand or appreciate them.

————— [printable Scribd version follows] —————

“Against Techno-Panics” by Adam Thierer, PFF (July 2009 – Inside ALEC) http://d.scribd.com/ScribdViewer.swf?document_id=17392730&access_key=key-2gdkqylyeu5h376buyyi&page=1&version=1&viewMode=