France Wants to Ban Social Media for Under-15s—Could Malta Be Next?

French Plan to Ban Social Media for Under-15s Sparks Debate in Malta: Could the Islands Follow Suit?

Valletta – When France’s top health authority recommended a total ban on social media for children under 15 this week, Maltese parents didn’t just scroll past. Within hours, Facebook groups from Birżebbuġa to Għargħur were alight with screen-shots of the report, playground WhatsApp chains buzzed, and Prime Minister Robert Abela fielded questions on whether Malta could be next.

The French National Academy of Medicine argues that TikTok, Instagram and Snapchat are “digital narco­tics” rewiring adolescent brains, fuelling anxiety, body-image disorders and cyber-bullying. Their prescription: a legal bar on signing up before 15, enforced by digital ID checks and backed by €90 million in public awareness campaigns.

Sound radical? Not to Dr. Josienne Cutajar, a child psychiatrist at Mater Dei who last year treated 73 emergency cases of self-harm linked to online bullying. “We’re a small island—everyone knows everyone. When a video shaming a 12-year-old at a village feast goes viral, the child can’t even change schools to escape,” she told Hot Malta. “France’s move validates what we see in our clinics daily.”

Malta already has one of the youngest average ages for first smartphone ownership in the EU—10.7 years, according to EU Kids Online 2023. With 96 % of local 11-year-olds on at least one social platform, the islands outpace even France and Sweden. The Maltese government raised the digital age of consent from 13 to 16 in 2018, but enforcement is lax; a 2022 audit found 84 % of apps still allow registration with a simple tick-box.

Education Minister Clifton Grima reacted cautiously to the French proposal, telling journalists Malta would “study evidence before any regulatory leap.” Yet pressure is mounting. Nationalist MEP candidate Peter Agius has launched an online petition calling for a Maltese under-15 ban, gathering 8,000 signatures in 48 hours. “If we can restrict alcohol and tobacco, we can restrict addictive algorithms,” Agius said outside Parliament, flanked by parents waving placards reading “Childhood > Likes”.

Across the Grand Harbour, opinions are split. In Senglea, 38-year-old dad-of-three Daniel Camilleri welcomes the idea. “My 13-year-old daughter stopped dancing żejt żejt because she’s glued to TikTok routines filmed in California. We’ve lost village feasts to reels,” he lamented over a pastizz and tea. But 14-year-old student Leah Pace in St Julian’s argues a ban would “just make us lie about our age. Teach us how to use it safely instead.”

Youth workers fear a blanket ban could backfire in Malta’s tight-knit culture where secrecy is hard. “Kids will create Finsta—fake Instagram—accounts and hide them from parents who already feel digitally illiterate,” warns Karl Azzopardi, who runs after-school hubs in Żabbar. His organisation, Kopin, favours compulsory media-literacy modules starting at Grade 5, paired with sunset algorithms that lock minors out after 10 pm.

Businesses are watching nervously. Malta’s burgeoning iGaming and influencer sectors rely on young eyeballs. “If Europe moves toward 15-plus, brands will shift ad spend to markets with looser rules—perhaps North Africa—or invest in AI-generated adult avatars,” said iGaming consultant Maria Fenech. “That could dent Malta’s tax coffers.”

Still, public-health veterans recall how Malta led Europe on 2004 smoking bans despite tourism lobbying. “We proved small states can be nimble laboratories,” reflected former health minister Louis Deguara. “If France legislates, expect a domino effect. Malta could pilot under-15 bans in Church and independent schools first, evaluate, then scale.”

For now, French President Emmanuel Macron has promised draft legislation by September. Maltese officials will be watching—and so will thousands of parents balancing the delights of village square freedom with the sirens of the smartphone age.

Conclusion: Whether Malta copies France or crafts its own hybrid solution, the conversation has moved from screens to Parliament. In a country where family ties run deeper than fibre-optic cables, the next swipe could reshape childhood itself.