You can’t buy maturity

There is growing momentum among parents, teachers, and legislators to keep children off of social media, and it comes not a moment too soon. Utah’s governor Spencer Cox called social media “a cancer” in his remarks following the assassination of Charlie Kirk. The editors of the Wall Street Journal said the 22-year-old charged with the crime “looks like another young man full of rage and unhinged from reality, with help from the internet.” This isn’t the first time we’ve seen how “hours of marinating in online rage” can deteriorate a person’s mental stability.

The need to protect children online is greater than ever. But not every solution is helpful. One ill-timed idea would make matters worse. Just two days before Kirk’s murder, the same newspaper ran a story about parents who are trying to delay their tweens’ and teens’ dive into social media by offering them cash, and even new cars. In “Paying Kids to Stay Off Their Phones,” columnist Julie Jargon says these parents think they can “buy time until kids are more mature.”

When their kids were babies and toddlers, parents handed them their phones and iPads to keep them quiet in restaurants and grocery stores. Now that the kids are tweens, they’re trying to keep them away from toxic social media. One of the moms interviewed for the story offered her 12-year-old son and 11-year-old daughter $1,800 each to delay getting on social media till they’re 18. Another mom asked her 14-year-old son to wait for two years in exchange for a new car. If he agreed, she’d even let him choose the model. He said yes, for a Ford Bronco.

This only works for a certain tax bracket. But even if your kid would agree to an amount that fits what you could afford, no amount of money will solve a problem that fundamentally requires active parenting. If anything, this will undermine the very maturity kids need.

On average, kids get their first phone when they’re 11. That’s well before they’re old enough to get a work permit, let alone afford to buy a phone for anywhere from $600 to over $1,000. Add to that the typical $140-a-month service contract and it’s clear that parents are footing the bill for a device kids can’t afford. Now some are paying them not to use it. It’s a decadent response to a deadly problem.

Given the high-stakes and stark dangers facing adolescents living so much of their lives online, the pay to delay scheme is flippant and trite. Parents interviewed for the article say it’s pragmatic because their kids will just get around the parental controls they set on social media. But what hope do parents have that those same kids will be any more principled about keeping their promise not to use it altogether?

This whole approach feels mercenary, not admirable. It teaches children that the only thing better than boundless entertainment is money. But bribing a youngster with cash or the promise of a new car sets the bar too low. It assumes corrosive phone use is inevitable and sees no effective motivation beyond material gain.

What kind of a parent would offer to pay their toddler a few bucks not to touch the hot stove or run into a busy road? It would be foolish—the danger is too great. Social media is just as risky for adolescents, if not more so. They’re too impressionable, and the platform is too addictive—by design—to assume the mere passing of time will give them the maturity to use it responsibly.

Kids need their parents to help them become the kind of people who want to do good and avoid evil, not because it’s profitable, but because it’s right. They need years of practicing discernment and developing integrity in order to live faithfully online where indulgence, addiction—and increasingly, radicalization—are common. This process doesn’t end in middle school. Even into high school, teens need parents who remove temptations and aren’t afraid to say no to what will harm them.

Training children for maturity throughout adolescence is essential for surviving in the digital world. This takes time, intentionality, and relational investment. It’s a costly, 18-year sacrifice. No matter how much money you offer, it’s not something you can buy.