For teenage creators Layla Eleni and Ruby-Alexis, the digital arena – social media – has become a source of community and career opportunities. But as the government prepares to pull the plug on under-16’s access to the platforms, that could all be about to change…
At varying points throughout its history, Rome’s Colosseum could hold an estimated 50,000 to 80,000 spectators. It is the largest ancient amphitheatre ever to have been built. Emperors and Vestals, Senators, Slaves and Citizens, all orders – ordines – of society would gather to watch gladiatorial fights and plays. Entertainment. Escapism. Political theatre. The Colosseum offered it all.
The largest immaterial amphitheatre, social media, holds 5.79 billion viewers worldwide. There we toddlers, children, tweens, teens, adults, Facebook boomers and beyond gather to witness bloodbaths in short-form. From deliberately dumb tweets to AI-generated fruit dramas on TikTok, there is something for us all to enjoy, get angry at – or both – online.
Would you not describe YouTube channel Jubilee’s ‘Liberal Man v 20 MAGA Women’ debate as gladiatorial? Are you not entertained?
Layla Eleni’s TikTok followers could fill the Colosseum more than 16 times over.
At just 15-years-old, she has 1.3 million people watching her chatty lifestyle vlogs and ‘Get Ready With Me’ (GWRM) videos. Remembering the app in its prototypic form, Musical.ly, Layla started posting content when she was just 11-years-old.
So too did Ruby-Alexis. For a while, young Ruby’s videos existed in the drafts section only. It was a bit of fun and she was good at it; a natural at talking to an expectant audience.
But a surprise video of her dad doing her makeup saw her page blow up. “It was that video that made it bloom,” said mum Emma. Now at 15, Ruby has more than 283,000 followers, 12.6 million likes, and, on average, earns £1,000 a month.
Both girls are currently sitting their Year 10 mock exams; both girls are on the brink of realising fully forged TikTok empires; and, as of spring 2027, both girls will lose it all – at least for a little while – as Britain’s social media ban for under 16s is brought into effect.
Outgoing Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer has pledged to introduce a blanket-ban across social media platforms that will see under 16s prohibited from using Snapchat, TikTok, YouTube, Instagram, Facebook, and X. Those aged between 16 and 17 may also face overnight curfews.
Dubbed ‘Australia-plus’, after the country became the first in the world to introduce sweeping restrictions for young people online, the move feels far-reaching and radical. Something of a stand against Big Tech by a government that has often been Bambi-ish – shaky and uncertain – on policy.
To Layla and Ruby, it also feels personal. “It’s so frustrating,” said Ruby. “We’ve built our accounts, and we work so hard for what we’ve got. For this to be taken away, it’s going to be hard to reach that again. There’s not much I can do about it, but hopefully things change.”
“It’s something everyone knows,” said Layla, who’s videos have been liked more than 203 million times. “To go from that being a main source of entertainment, expression, and support, to not having it at all… people don’t know a life without social media.”
While both girls will be on the cusp of turning 16, the possible consequences for their careers are incalculable. They are young girls that, largely, speak for and speak to other young girls. Their accounts might not be banned for too long. But those of their valuable followers might be.
“It will be different,” said Layla. “Especially because in my comments, I’ve got a younger audience that come to me for support, whether that’s school advice, skincare, makeup, or just day-to-day tips.” Ruby, with her mostly younger followers, thinks it will have a big effect. When brands follow the numbers, and the big numbers on cheques and bank statements follow the brands, dips in views and followers can be risky business for influencers.
Big deal. In the four hours or so a day young people spend on their phones or tablets, they can be accessing porn, extreme violence, and harmful views. Nine out of 10 of the UK’s 13-15-year-old’s have their own social media profiles, while a further 80% of 10-to-12-year-old’s use the same platforms. If they aren’t finding harmful content themselves, schoolmates are showing it to them.
The National Crime Agency and Internet Watch Foundation are urging parents not to post pictures of their children for fears of AI-generated sexual abuse. Molly Russell took her own life aged 14. A coroner ruled that an algorithmic diet of harm played a direct role in her death. “Instagram helped kill my daughter,” was dad Ian’s verdict.
The government rushing to join other countries around the world to ban these platforms doesn’t look like overreach, doesn’t look silly, in this light. It’s a knee-jerk Hobbesian response; social media exists in the state of nature and to stop children leading solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short lives, they must be brought under government control. Announcing the plans, the prime minister said: “I am not prepared to compromise on the safety and happiness of our children, and that is why this ban must happen.”
Which makes sense says Diana Gheorghiu, from London-based organisation Child Rights International Network. “Debates regarding children’s rights in the digital environment sometimes get into quite polarised discussions, where protection is pitted against their free expression or privacy. It is understandable that people concerned about children’s safety will mainly focus on children’s right to protection from violence.”
The girls agree too. Layla said: “I’m not going to neglect the fact that there are concerns with social media. A lot of the people who are putting the bans in place, a lot of people – especially adults – their concerns are valid. Social media isn’t a safe place for any age range; there is harmful content available for anyone.” Ruby added: “There’s always negatives on social media.” And yet they both conclude that this doesn’t make it inherently bad.
As any interaction with it will reveal, social media is a sensitive ecosystem. Creativity and danger coexist, and – as teenagers throughout time would argue – what is fun without a little fear? For Layla and Ruby, self-proclaimed extroverts, it is a source of expression. They have built communities from the ground up – assisted by some ghostly lever-pulling from the algorithm – where they inspire and are inspired by their digital peers.
They’ve found digital independence through brand deals. They have a laugh with their friends. They even use it as an educational tool – on the day of Layla’s chemistry mock exam, she watched 20 TikToks and 50 YouTube videos on the topic. Mum Jenny said: “I’ve seen her grow in this space. Her confidence level growing has been amazing.”
Children across Europe feel the same. In an EU Kids Online survey, the majority of young people aged 9 to 16 feel a ban would limit their freedom and infringe on their rights. They would be less able to form social connections, while those from poorer backgrounds would be less able to seek out wellbeing advice. For these children, even without the safeguarding measures that Ruby and Layla enjoy with their parent-run accounts and management teams, social media is still an opportunity. Call it loss aversion, but social media is still something they want access to. Something they feel they would be better off with.
Gheorghiu says that children’s rights in the digital world are no different from children’s rights offline. They should be protected from violence and allowed to express openly themselves. Blanket bans, however, enforce the polarising nature of the debate – children can either be protected or express themselves, but never both.
Nor is there any evidence of these bans working. 85% of teenagers in Australia had accessed social media in the past seven days, according to a recent study published in the British Medical Journal. They were supposed to have been banned since December 2025. Youngsters there aren’t even going to the lengths of using virtual private networks (VPNs), which hide a user’s location, to circumvent the law. With their own accounts, someone else’s, or by using a fake age, they can still do exactly what they were doing before.
“If the ban doesn’t protect children, then it is giving a false sense of security to parents,” says Gheorghiu. “And if the bans not only fail to protect children, but can lead children into the dark web, into increasingly less regulated spaces, that can compound the problem.”
By acting on users like Ruby and Layla, the business models behind social media, with their addictive, exploitative, attention-stealing formulas, can escape the blame. The online world isn’t detoxified any more than a minefield with warning signs is. Can a 16-year-old’s mind really tolerate extreme violence and doomscrolling and self-harm videos any more than a 13-year-old’s mind? How about a 56-year-old’s mind?
Molly Russell’s dad Ian has criticised the ban, saying it does little to stop companies putting profit over safety. The harms are still there waiting. A petition to overturn the ruling has now reached more than 215,000 signatures and is being considered for debate in Parliament. It reads: “Some people view social media as a lifeline. A community, a supportive network.”
Teendom is ugly. According to psychoanalyst Erik Erikson, it is a life stage marred by a particular struggle, one that involves trying on personas and roles; finding what fits; who you are and who you want to be. In the arena of social media, anything is possible – it is no doubt both a help and a hindrance to that strange task of self-discovery.
Layla and Ruby have found their roles in that very arena. To them, it is each of those three things: a lifeline, a community, a supportive network. Let this not be the twilight of teen influencers – of teenagers on social media – is their message.
Featured image by AzamKamolov from Pixabay
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