Dear friend,
I hope you are well since your last letter, and that the weather is much kinder where you are, in China, than here, where the regular rain is beginning to make me bitterly regret buying my bike! I recently read that your country is tightening its “digital curfew” for teenagers: no more than one hour online allowed per day for under-18s, with an automatic block at 10 p.m. Well, imagine this: here, some people find that wonderful…
“Experts” even congratulate themselves on it in the media. “Ah, if only France could do the same! ” As if control were the new form of care.
I won’t hide from you that, reading you, I sometimes feel we are following the same path, but with a smile. Just goes to show that Orwell’s and Huxley’s dystopias complement each other well. Here, facial recognition cameras are quietly being installed in public spaces, on the pretext of security. And on the family side, the fashion is for ultra-intrusive parental controls: some, like the Kroha app, allow you not only to geolocate your child, but also to switch on their microphone remotely to listen to their conversations… When I tell you Orwell is never far away, I’m not as mad as all that! We may not (yet) have the digital curfew, but we already have the baby monitor for teenagers!
It is in this climate of suspicion and fear that I discovered a salutary little book, published by Usbek et Rica with Éditions Robert Laffont, edited by Serge Tisseron:
Faut-il interdire les réseaux sociaux aux jeunes ? (Should social media be banned for young people?)
A little book, yes, but one that thinks big. And above all, one that dares to speak in a way other than panic.
The format is epistolary, in homage to Montesquieu’s Persian Letters: four letters, four voices, four perspectives on teenagers and social media
- Serge Tisseron writes as if he were the devil himself addressing Earthlings, in a letter that both “un-demonises” social media with humour, while showing the various techniques used by companies and politicians to bring about “the guaranteed catastrophe” ;
- Anne Cordier addresses the President of the Republic and invites him to listen to young people attentively, without taking them for idiots, before legislating about them ;
- Nadia Daam writes to her daughter, with her poignant story of cyberbullying. A message that mixes hope and worry, but also and above all a mother’s trust in her teenager ;
- Finally, Grégoire Borst addresses Mark Zuckerberg, to report the various criticisms that can be made of his social networks, and to propose relevant alternatives for today’s young people.
These four very different letters nevertheless answer one another. They all ask the same question: what exactly are we trying to ban?
Access to imperfect tools, certainly, but also access to a part of the world where bonds, opinions and identities are built.
For a ban alone settles nothing. The authors remind us: instead of removing, why not adapt? Create networks designed for teenagers, with ethical rules, solid protections and genuine education in their use? Offer outside alternatives, notably for the most disadvantaged families? And above all, why not listen to them? Young people often know better than we do what they are looking for there, what they find there, and even sometimes what puts them in danger.
Through these letters, the reader understands that the real question is not “for or against social media”, but:
– How can we live in them without getting lost?
– How can we build a society there rather than merely survive?
The book does not demonise screens, but does not turn them into idols either. It talks about filter bubbles, cyberbullying and the attention economy, but also about creativity, connections and social visibility… all those experiences that matter to teenagers.
And above all, it reads like a series of letters from friends: with curiosity, kindness and a smile. Four authors, four styles, one invitation: think before banning.
So yes, dear friend, the Chinese digital curfew may fascinate some of my compatriots. But here, I would still rather read a little book of 144 pages for €5, which restores faith in collective intelligence, than dream of a world where screens switch off on command… but on whose command?
With all my friendship — and no limit on connection,
OD
