Climate action to bring South Asia together

In homes across Sri Lanka, a quiet tragedy unfolds daily. Children once filled with curiosity and play now sit glued to screens, their laughter replaced by the glow of notifications and endless scrolls. What began as a lifeline during the COVID-19 pandemic, devices enabling remote education when schools closed, has morphed into something far darker. Today, these same technologies, designed for connection and progress, fuel addiction, erode family bonds, spread hatred, and claim young lives. The world is waking up. Countries from Australia to parts of Europe and Asia are imposing strict age limits on social media for minors, doubling fines on non-compliant platforms, and treating this as the serious non-traditional security threat it is. Sri Lanka cannot afford to lag behind. The stakes are nothing less than the mental health, social cohesion, and national security of our future. Technology, at its core, serves humanity. Smartphones, social platforms, and digital tools have democratised knowledge, enabled commerce, and bridged distances. Yet, in their unregulated form,driven by profit-maximising algorithms that reward outrage, addiction, and sensationalism, these creations have become a social menace. Global evidence is stark and mounting. Adolescents spending more than three hours daily on social media face double the risk of symptoms of depression and anxiety. The average teenager logs around 3.5 hours, with many reporting that platforms worsen their body image and self-worth. Meta-analyses link problematic use to heightened stress, sleep disruption, cyberbullying, and exposure to harmful content promoting self-harm or extremism. The negativity has overtaken the positivity. What was meant for leisure and learning now fosters dependency. Young minds, wired for reward during critical developmental years, become trapped in cycles of comparison, validation-seeking, and dopamine hits from likes and comments. The result? Deteriorating parent-child relationships, as dinner tables turn into silent scrolling sessions. Social discipline frays. Families fracture under the weight of isolation masked as connection. Sri Lanka feels this acutely. The pandemic forced a necessary pivot to online learning, preventing total educational collapse. Yet the aftershocks persist. Increased screen time has correlated with rising stress, anxiety, poor sleep, and aggression among schoolchildren. In Eastern Sri Lanka, surveys showed 75% of students experiencing heightened stress and anxiety linked to disrupted routines and digital overload. Nationally, the Global School-Based Student Health Survey reveals alarming figures: among students aged 13–17, more than one in five report loneliness, nearly 18% persistent feelings of depression, 15% have seriously considered suicide in the past year, and nearly one in ten have attempted it, with rates often higher among girls.() We have witnessed the devastating endpoint: schoolchildren ending their precious lives. These are not isolated tragedies but symptoms of a deeper malaise. Academic pressure compounds digital addiction; cyberbullying and exposure to toxic content amplify despair. Post-pandemic economic strains and social isolation have only accelerated the trend. What was a temporary survival tool has entrenched itself as a default for both leisure and learning, with dire consequences for the well-being of families and the fabric of society. Beyond individual mental health lies a broader threat: the spread of hatred and radicalisation. Unregulated platforms amplify divisive narratives, sowing seeds of communal discord that can germinate into extremism. In a multi-ethnic, multi-religious nation like ours, this is especially perilous. Algorithms prioritise engagement over truth, pushing inflammatory content that deepens divides rather than fostering understanding. The intelligence communities in forward-thinking nations recognized this early, monitoring online radicalisation pathways, informing policymakers, and advocating regulations that balance innovation with protection. They treated it not merely as a social issue but as a non-traditional security threat capable of undermining stability from within. Sri Lanka’s intelligence apparatus must elevate this to a priority. Visualizing future threats means anticipating how today’s unchecked digital ecosystems could radicalize disaffected youth, erode social cohesion, or fuel unrest. “Better late than never” is no longer sufficient; the time for vigilance was yesterday. National security encompasses more than borders and conventional forces. It demands safeguarding the psychological and social resilience of our people, especially the young, who are the foundation of tomorrow’s prosperity, stability, and development. Compounding these challenges is our education system. While institutions exist and opportunities for primary and secondary learning are in place, fragmentation persists. Schools often reflect and reinforce community and religious lines, Sinhala-medium and Tamil-medium streams, alongside denominational or religious institutions. Curricula and environments can inadvertently promote insular ideologies rather than a shared national ethos. This segregation, a legacy of historical policies, risks deepening divisions instead of building the common identity essential for a united Sri Lanka. Education’s fundamental purpose is to forge a stable, disciplined, educated society capable of critical thinking and harmonious coexistence. When the system itself divides, the consequences ripple into national security, weakening the very social capital needed to withstand external and internal pressures. Reform is urgent. A common core curriculum emphasising shared values, critical digital literacy, multicultural understanding, and emotional resilience must take precedence. Regulation of school management and supervision through coherent national policy, without stifling diversity, can transform education from a potential vector of division into a bulwark of unity. Integrating digital citizenship education, teaching responsible technology use from an early age, and training teachers to recognise signs of distress are practical steps. The global momentum offers both warning and inspiration. Australia’s under-16 social media ban, with investigations into major platforms and recently doubled penalties reaching AUD 99 million for breaches, demonstrates political will. Similar moves in Malaysia, Indonesia, France, the UK, and elsewhere signal that unregulated tech giants can no longer operate with impunity where children are concerned. These nations recognize that protecting future generations is a governance imperative, not an optional extra. For Sri Lanka, the path forward requires coordinated action across stakeholders: • Government and Regulators: Enact and enforce age-appropriate restrictions, mandate robust age verification, and hold platforms accountable for harmful algorithms and content. Learn from international models while tailoring to local realities. • Intelligence and Security Community: Intensify monitoring of online spaces for radicalisation signals, disinformation, and grooming. Provide timely assessments to policymakers and collaborate on preventive strategies. • Education Authorities: Accelerate integration efforts, develop a unifying curriculum framework, and embed mental health and digital literacy across subjects. • Parents and Communities: Reclaim agency through screen-time boundaries, open dialogues, and modeling healthy habits. Community programs can support families navigating these challenges. • Civil Society and Tech Sector: Promote ethical platform design, local content moderation sensitive to Sri Lankan contexts, and public awareness campaigns. Crucially, while the state and its institutions bear a solemn duty to regulate and protect, the ultimate safeguard for our children rests in the hands of parents, elders, and teachers, the first line of defense in every home and classroom. Parents must reclaim their rightful role as gatekeepers of screen time, engaging in open, judgment-free conversations about the digital world rather than abdicating oversight to devices. Simple practices such as family media curfews, co-viewing content, and modeling mindful technology use can rebuild eroded bonds and instill discipline. Elders, as custodians of wisdom and cultural values, have a profound responsibility to guide younger generations away from virtual escapism toward real-world relationships, community service, and spiritual grounding. Teachers, too, stand at the forefront: beyond academic instruction, they must weave digital literacy, critical thinking about online content, and emotional resilience into the curriculum, while remaining vigilant for signs of distress among students. This is not a burden to be shouldered by the government alone but a collective moral imperative. When families, schools, and communities unite in proactive guardianship, technology becomes a servant rather than a master, nurturing disciplined, empathetic youth who strengthen rather than strain the social fabric. Only through this shared vigilance can we truly safeguard the future generations who will define Sri Lanka’s destiny. The consequences of inaction are already evident and will only intensify. Disastrous outcomes for mental health, family structures, social discipline, and national cohesion are not hypothetical, they are unfolding. Yet this is not a story of inevitable decline. Technology remains a powerful tool for good when guided by wisdom, regulation, and human values. By acting decisively now, Sri Lanka can harness its benefits while mitigating harms, ensuring our children inherit a society that is not only prosperous but also peaceful, united, and resilient. The future of our nation rests with its youth. They are not merely statistics or problems to manage; they are the carriers of our collective hopes. We owe them environments that nurture rather than exploit their vulnerabilities. The intelligence to foresee threats, the courage to regulate boldly, and the commitment to holistic education are within our grasp. The clock is ticking. The choice is clear: Act now, or risk paying an unbearable price later. Sri Lanka has overcome immense challenges before through unity and foresight. This digital crisis demands the same resolve. Let us rise to it, for our children, our families, and the enduring strength of our nation. The time for meaningful, immediate remedies is upon us. Writer ,Mahil Dole is Former Head of Counter Terrorism State Intelligence Service, former First Secretary (Defence) – Sri Lanka Embassy in Thailand and present Member of the Waqfs Board. This opinion draws on public records and professional experience. Views are personal.

by Mahil Dole SSP Rtd – Senior Security Analyst & Former Head of Counter-Terrorism Division, State Intelligence Service Sri Lanka.