Our Kids Are Crying Out for Help—But They’re Not Just Struggling, They’re Searching

A Response to: These kids told us they want to stop scrolling. But they don’t know how by Ros Thomas, The Weekend Australian Magazine, 16 August 2025

Port Community School students Ben 13, Jaxon 14, Nate 14, Chase 14, Violet 14, Indy 14 at school in Perth, WA. Photo: Ros Thomas

The stories in Ros Thomas’ powerful feature are devastating. Not because they shock, but because they feel entirely familiar. Any educator, parent, therapist—or young person themselves—can see the truth laid bare: our kids are not okay.

“Deleting TikTok would be like turning off my life support.”
“I know I’m addicted. I just don’t know what else to do.”
“We need our phones—but they’re ruining us.”

These aren’t exaggerations. They are raw truths spoken by young people who feel trapped in a reality shaped by algorithms, likes, and 24/7 performance. Others are even more blunt:

  • “It’s like a drug … I hated it. It felt like a dirty way to spend time.” – Flynn, 17

  • “My attention span is dwindling so fast, I’m freaked out because it affects my study. My phone’s like a magnet.” – Tara, 15

  • “Friday, eight hours 57 minutes. Saturday was nine hours 31 minutes … to delete that would be like turning off my life support.” – Anika, 15

  • “By the time I was 13 I felt like I was going to die from the stress of keeping up appearances on TikTok … I had to start taking anti-anxiety meds.” – Lila, 19

Meanwhile rates of depression, anxiety, self-harm, and suicide are rising rapidly. One in three girls experience worsened body image due to Instagram, and emergency admissions for self-harm among 10–14-year-old girls have more than tripled since 2009.

This isn’t only a mental health crisis. It’s a generational struggle for identity, belonging, and purpose.

Take Phones Out, Bring Meaning Back

Yes, phone bans in schools are an essential intervention. Schools like Port Community School are demonstrating courage in removing a powerful source of harm from the daily lives of their students. Hale School has recently announced it will ban smartphones for all Year 8 students from 2025, a bold move that reflects both the scale of the problem and the urgency to act.

But we must also ask: What are we replacing it with?

Removing the addictive screen is not the endgame. If we take away the phone but leave a vacuum behind then we are only scraping the surface.

Social media offers young people a fragile substitute for these needs:

  • Safety – the device provides a sense of comfort and protection, a shield against awkwardness and uncertainty: “It’s constant company. It takes away the awkward moments.”

  • Connection – scrolling creates the illusion of belonging because “everyone is there,” but the ties are thin and easily broken.

  • Self-esteem – likes, follows, and comparisons offer fleeting validation, but as Anika admits, “deep down, I know it’s all fake.”

Yet these digital fixes are brittle. They soothe in the moment, but they leave the deeper sails — exploration, love, and purpose — unmet. Without real-world spaces that nurture these needs, young people remain vulnerable to the rollercoaster of validation and despair that social media so cleverly mimics.

And if that doesn’t change, then, as one 13-year-old put it starkly: “I reckon our generation’s gonna be messed up.”

Philosophical Health: The Missing Piece

If we are serious about change, we need more than regulation. We need restoration—of meaning, imagination, and inner life. We need to rebuild something known as philosophical health. Philosophical health is not about armchair philosophy or abstract thinking. It’s the life-force-giving foundation that sparks the space for young people ask and explore:

  • Who am I, really?

  • What matters to me?

  • Where do I belong?

  • What is worth striving for?

  • What is possible for my life?

When young people are never given space to ask — or courage to explore — life’s biggest questions, they’re left vulnerable. Without meaning, despair creeps in; without direction, manipulation fills the gap. As Viktor Frankl warned, when our search for meaning is stifled, frustration and emptiness inevitably follow. But these feelings are not disorders to be suppressed. They are signals — the soul’s way of saying that something vital is missing, that deeper truths are waiting to be discovered.

We Must Design for Flourishing, Not Just Fixing

If we are to take away the smartphone, we must replace it with something more human — and more actively hopeful. That means creating the conditions where young people can truly flourish:

  • Spaces for real connection, not just performative interaction

  • Time for self-reflection, not endless self-optimization

  • Opportunities for authentic self-expression, creativity, and shared purpose

  • Communities where they feel seen, valued, and needed

  • Rituals of boredom, stillness, awe, and wonder

  • Chances to develop imagination and creativity as essential life skills

  • Pathways into flow states through embodiment, serious play, and activities that absorb attention in meaningful ways

  • Education that honours big questions — not just measurable outcomes

This isn’t pop-psychology or a passing trend. It is the cultural infrastructure required for a generation not simply to survive, but to come fully alive.

Let’s Not Waste the Moment

The courage of the young people in this article is extraordinary.

They know something is wrong. They’re asking for help. They're ready for change.

But we cannot simply strip away their coping mechanism and walk away. Through their own words, they’re already pointing us toward the possibility of another way:

“Camp was so good because for the first time in ages, I wasn’t dictated by my phone.” – Tara, 15

“All of a sudden I could entertain myself again.” – Kayla, 15

“The weird thing was, because I knew my phone was a million miles away … I didn’t miss it for a second. I felt free.” – Mila, 15

These are not just reflections on camp. They are glimpses of what it feels like to live with presence, freedom, and deep connection. And they really like it.

The real question then becomes: are we ready to act?

Not with another mental health initiative. Not with merely a ban or restriction. But with a new story of what it means to be human, and what it means to grow up whole.

As parents, teachers, and leaders the next step is ours. It’s time to give young people more than limits—it's time to give them the conditions to flourish.

Join the Movement for Philosophical Health

If you're a parent, grandparent, educator, youth worker, coach, counsellor, mentor, or simply someone who cares deeply about the next generation — you’re not alone. Right now, a generation is asking the big questions—not just about what to do, but why we’re here.

They don’t need more pressure. They need more presence. More space to wonder, to wrestle, to become.

If you want to help spark spaces for meaning-making, self-discovery, belonging, and wise reflection—spaces where young people can be seen, heard, and supported from the inside out—join the movement for philosophical health and deep flourishing.

Let’s create a culture that helps young people come home to themselves.

This is how we meet the crisis of meaning: Not with fear — but with courage, wisdom, and active hope.

Let’s begin — together.

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