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For years, we have heard that social media is an extraordinary tool for communication, sharing knowledge, and bringing people together. And, to a large extent, it is. But perhaps the time has come to ask ourselves an uncomfortable question: what happens when those who control these tools can also decide what we see, how long we view it, and what emotions it triggers in us?
The recent agreement reached by Meta with U.S. states brings this issue back to the forefront. The company—owner of Facebook and Instagram—has agreed to pay up to approximately 17 billion dollars and implement significant protective measures for minors after being accused of designing its platforms to be addictive, exposing young people to risks, and downplaying problems associated with their use.
An important clarification is in order: technically, this is not a court ruling finding Meta guilty. The company reached a settlement to resolve the lawsuits without admitting liability—which, in my view, is a euphemism. Yet, the core issue remains deeply concerning.
The agreement includes time limits, nighttime restrictions, parental controls, and more rigorous systems for verifying user age. These are important measures—though it remains to be seen when and how they will be implemented—but they should also prompt us to reflect much more deeply.
True power lies in the algorithm. Because the issue is not just about children. When we open a social media app, we believe we are freely choosing what to see. However, our screen is not a neutral window onto the world. It is the product of a system that selects content based on our behavior: what we look at, how long we linger on a post, what we share, what we comment on, and what manages to hold our attention.
The fundamental goal of these systems is to keep us connected. And here, a particularly delicate issue arises: what hooks us the most is not always what benefits us the most.
Outrage, fear, controversy, and confrontation can generate a great deal of engagement. Gradually, users can find themselves trapped in a sort of information bubble, receiving primarily content that reinforces their existing views. The longer they remain inside, the more data they generate, and the more precise the system becomes at keeping them there.
We have shifted from being users to becoming products. This may well be one of the great paradoxes of digital society. We believe we are using social media for free, but in reality, our attention, data, and habits hold immense economic value. We do not pay with money; we pay with information about ourselves.
The issue takes on a new dimension when it comes to minors. Risks such as exploitation, contact with strangers, exposure to sexual content, and other digital dangers affect millions of children and adolescents worldwide.
Protecting minors, therefore, should not simply be a matter of imposing time limits. We must also examine the mechanisms platforms use to capture and retain their attention.
And what of our values and our democracy? This is where my concern extends far beyond Facebook, Instagram, or similar platforms.
A democratic society requires citizens capable of informing themselves, weighing different opinions, and making decisions freely. Yet, when a handful of algorithms determine the information that reaches millions of people most frequently, we are dealing with extraordinary power.
This does not necessarily imply an organized conspiracy to control our minds. The reality may be simpler—and, for that very reason, more alarming: systems designed to maximize engagement can end up influencing our emotions, opinions, and decisions without us being fully aware of it.
The goal is not simply to ban social media, nor is it to dictate what individuals can think. Rather, it is about ensuring that no single entity holds disproportionate power to decide what information an entire society receives.
Europe should not be afraid; it has an opportunity to set clear boundaries. Algorithms, which exert immense social influence, should be subject to much more rigorous oversight. Authorities must be able to verify how these systems operate, the risks they create, and the mechanisms they employ to protect minors and prevent manipulative practices.
And major platforms should assume a level of responsibility commensurate with their immense power. If a company can influence hundreds of millions of people, perhaps we can no longer view it as just another tech company.
For when a technology impacts the mental health of young people, citizens' privacy, the information the public receives, and—ultimately—the functioning of a democracy, society has the right to demand transparency and accountability.
The agreement with Meta may be an important step. But it should not be the final one.
The real question is far more uncomfortable: Do we want to keep living in a society where a handful of private algorithms decide what we see, what outrages us, what worries us, and what we ultimately think?
Perhaps there is still time to decide that technology should serve people, rather than people serving technology controlled by a select few.
But achieving this will require more than just new laws. We will need informed citizens, courageous politicians, and companies willing to accept that great power entails great responsibility.
Will we do it? I have very serious doubts.
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