For years, parents, teachers, doctors and former insiders have warned that social media is not the harmless tool it is marketed to be. They have argued that beneath the polished language of "connection" and "community" lies a business model built on attention, compulsion and, too often, harm. Now, juries in two US states have given those concerns a powerful legal and moral endorsement.

The verdicts against Meta and YouTube in Los Angeles and against Meta in New Mexico mark a significant moment in the debate over the impact of social media on children and teenagers. They suggest that what many families have painfully experienced is no longer dismissed as anecdotal alarmism. Courts are beginning to recognise that these platforms may have knowingly allowed systems to flourish that damage young minds, encourage dependency and expose vulnerable users to serious risks.

This matters because social media has evolved at extraordinary speed. What began as a convenient way to keep in touch with friends and relatives has become something far more invasive. Platforms are no longer neutral digital meeting places. They are highly sophisticated machines designed to keep users engaged for as long as possible, feeding them content chosen not for their wellbeing, but for its ability to hold their gaze.

For children and teenagers, whose brains and emotional resilience are still developing, that is especially dangerous. Endless comparison with filtered bodies and curated lifestyles can fuel anxiety, low self-esteem and eating disorders. Exposure to toxic content can normalise self-harm, bullying and dangerous behaviour. The risk of exploitation, including sexual exploitation, is real and deeply disturbing. The possibility that these systems can contribute to depression and even suicidal thoughts is something no responsible society can ignore.

But the problem does not begin and end with minors. Adults, too, have become captives of the scroll. It is now common to see families gathered around a dinner table, each person physically present but mentally elsewhere, eyes fixed on a screen. Conversations are interrupted by notifications. Moments that should belong to real life are surrendered to algorithms. Many people would never call it addiction, but what else should we call a behaviour that repeatedly displaces relationships, concentration and peace of mind?

This is not to deny that social media can do good. It has helped people stay connected across borders, find communities of support, raise awareness and organise around causes. It can inform, entertain and educate. Yet the benefits cannot be used as a shield against legitimate criticism. The tobacco industry once sold glamour while concealing harm. Social media giants have long sold convenience and connection while evidence of damage mounted in the background.

That is why countries willing to act deserve attention. Australia's move to restrict social media use for children under 16 is a bold acknowledgment that young people need stronger protection than vague parental controls and hollow corporate promises. Other countries should seriously consider similar measures. At the very least, governments should demand stricter age verification, tougher safeguards, transparent algorithms and real accountability for companies that profit from dependency.

Still, regulation alone will not solve everything. Parents, educators and adults in general must also confront their own habits. It is difficult to warn children about screen addiction while living with a phone in hand at every spare second. If adults continue to model constant distraction, young people will follow.

The message from these jury verdicts is clear: social media is no longer merely a lifestyle issue. It is a public health issue. Connection is valuable. But when connection becomes compulsion, and compulsion becomes harm, society has a duty to intervene.