Democratic Education in a Tempest

In December 2025, Australia will become the first democracy to impose a blanket minimum age for social media. Under the new Social Media Minimum Age Act (SMMA), platforms must demonstrate they’ve taken “reasonable steps” to prevent age-restricted users from having an account. Unlike privacy rules in the U.S. or youth screen-time limits in China, the SMMA is the first law worldwide to impose an outright minimum-age ban across platforms.

The Australian social media ban exemplifies a troubling global trend: governments across democracies are asserting greater control over what students may read, study, or debate – whether through curriculum directives, book bans, or online restrictions. From book removals in U.S. schools to anti-capitalist materials prohibited in UK classrooms, political and cultural disagreements are increasingly scripting what students can access.

This post argues that while such measures may be motivated by legitimate concerns for child welfare, they risk undermining democratic education by narrowing civic pluralism and shielding students from contested ideas. A democracy depends on young people learning how to navigate disagreement, not being excluded from it. Democratic education requires exposure to diverse, even uncomfortable perspectives, yet recent restrictions threaten to create what might be called “educational islands” where only approved viewpoints appear.

Australia: Social Media Bans, Curriculum Oversight, and Book Restrictions

Australia’s new SMMA represents an unprecedented restriction on young people’s access to public discourse. By excluding teenagers from public discussion platforms, it risks curtailing opportunities for early democratic engagement. The law is justified as protecting children. But its democratic costs are profound. It may narrow the sphere where the next generation can learn to navigate disagreement and participate in community life. Such a sweeping restriction demands strong evidence that its benefits meaningfully outweigh its impact on civic education.

The social media ban operates alongside other forms of educational restriction. The Australian Curriculum, Assessment and Reporting Authority (ACARA) develops the national curriculum in consultation with state and federal ministers. Version 9.0 was released in May 2022 for implementation by jurisdictions from 2023. Although curriculum is formally a joint responsibility, the Commonwealth exerts influence through funding conditions and thereby exposes curriculum design to political pressure.

This dynamic became evident in early 2025 when Opposition Leader Peter Dutton suggested tying federal education funding to counter what he described as a “woke agenda” in schools. He claimed students faced “indoctrination” and that schools were teaching them to feel “ashamed of being Australian.” Within weeks, he clarified that no such proposals would proceed, but the episode illustrates how education becomes a political talking point. Yet such statements still ripple through schools, where educators may cautiously adjust their approach to sensitive topics. The result is a chilling effect that undermines the open and inquisitive nature of democratic education.

Beyond curriculum oversight and online restrictions, governments also control educational content through book bans. In Queensland, the Classification of Publications Act 1991 designates Category 1 and 2 restricted publications as “prohibited,” making it an offence to sell, distribute, display, or possess them. This is a categorical ban: once a publication is placed in Category 1 or 2, it is automatically prohibited without further assessment. Such bans operate broadly, potentially sweeping out materials indiscriminately.

Comparative patterns: The United States and United Kingdom

Australia’s trajectory resonates with concerning patterns elsewhere. In the United States, the 2023–24 school year saw 10,046 instances of book bans impacting 4,231 unique titles, a striking escalation from 2,532 instances recorded in 2021–22. Most bans were driven not by parents but by pressure groups, elected officials, and government actors. Books with characters of color or LGBTQ+ themes were disproportionately targeted. Even acclaimed works like Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye, which addresses race-related issues, have been banned or challenged in schools and libraries.

In the United Kingdom, the Department for Education in 2020 directed schools not to use materials from organizations advocating the abolition of capitalism. Such views were labeled “extreme political stances” and equated with endorsing illegal activities. The policy has received criticism from educators and civil liberties groups, who argued that it blurred the line between political extremism and legitimate critique. Many warned it could stifle democratic debate in classrooms and lead to self-censorship.

All these cases show a global trend that political and cultural disagreements are increasingly scripting what students can read and discuss. Whether through age-based platform bans, curriculum directives, or book removals, the effect is similar – young minds are shielded from contested ideas rather than equipped to engage with them.

Democratic perspective

Shakespeare’s The Tempest offers an educational metaphor for the dangers of such control. On his island, the exiled Duke Prospero decides what his pupils may see and say. His daughter Miranda marvels only at what he allows, while Caliban, the island’s original inhabitant, now enslaved and silenced, embodies the voices education too often erases. The play warns against an orderly world where learning is carefully staged rather than freely explored.

We cannot allow schools to become Prospero’s island – orderly, but shadowed from democratic light. Education should prepare young people for the unpredictable: debating dilemmas, hearing “uncomfortable” voices, and encountering problems not yet imagined. Democracy thrives when plural citizens can analyze, invent, and deliberate together.

Too often, though, education policy echoes Prospero’s script. Rather than nurturing the capacities democracy requires – imagination, critical thinking, and adaptability – governments increasingly script what may be discussed, or questioned. Book bans, partisan curriculum directives, online platform exclusions, and high-stakes testing altogether create isolated “educational islands.”

Legal doctrine mirrors this tension. States can regulate curricula, but constitutional and international education principles set boundaries.

• Implied freedom of political communication: The High Court has recognised constitutional limits on laws that unduly burden political communication. In Lange v Australian Broadcasting Corporation, the Court held that discussion of political and governmental matters is essential for voters to make informed choices in a representative democracy. In Coleman v Power, the Court confirmed that such communication extends even to sharp or insulting criticism. These principles establish that robust civic discussion is constitutionally necessary, not merely tolerated. If schools restrict exposure to contested ideas, they risk undermining the very communicative capacities the Constitution protects.
• Legislative commitments: Civic education has been a long-standing national priority. Programs like Discovering Democracy and the Civics and Citizenship curriculum affirm that young Australians should become active and informed citizens of the community. These policy frameworks assume democracy requires pluralism in education and anticipate the need to shield civic inquiry from political interference.
• International obligations: Australia’s human rights treaties reinforce this view. Article 19 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights protects the freedom to “seek, receive and impart information and ideas of all kinds.” Article 13 of the Convention on the Rights of the Child affirms children’s right to freedom of expression, while Article 17 requires states to ensure children’s access to information of social, cultural, and political value.

Taken together, education must equip students to engage with diverse perspectives if they are to participate as democratic citizens. Restrictions on curriculum content or access to information can only be justified where they are strictly proportionate to such an end.

Conclusion: Principles for Democratic Education Law

Restrictions on education strike deeper than curriculum battles. They strike at democracy’s core. When lawmakers script what students may learn, they risk raising a generation unprepared for the “messy” work of disagreement, the art of debate, and the necessity of hearing voices unlike their own.

Australian law may safeguard democratic education by promoting curricular balance, ensuring that students engage with diverse viewpoints rather than only familiar or culturally safe ones; by establishing transparent restrictions, with clear procedures for when and how materials may be excluded, along with meaningful due process and proportionality requirements; and by affirming that schools must prepare students for democratic participation as a constitutional responsibility, not merely an educational preference.

In The Tempest, Prospero eventually lays down his “magic” books. He discovers that true authority lies in releasing others to chart their own course. Democratic societies shall embrace the same wisdom. Schools should not shield students from turbulent ideas but prepare them to navigate them. They need to face the full tempest of ideas and conflicts that democracy unleashes; only then can they become the informed, critical citizens that representative government requires.