My Lords, I really appreciated the contribution from the noble Baroness, Lady Ritchie of Downpatrick, because she asked a lot of questions about this group of amendments. Although I might be motivated by different reasons, I found it difficult to fully understand the impact of the amendments, so I too want to ask a set of questions.
Harm is defined in the Bill as “physical or psychological harm”, and there is no further explanation. I can understand the frustration with that and the attempts therefore to use what are described as the
“widely understood and used 4 Cs of online risk to children”.
They are not widely understood by me, and I have ploughed my way through it. I might well have misunderstood lots in it, but I want to look at and perhaps challenge some of the contents.
I was glad that Amendment 20 recognises the level of risk of harm to different age groups. That concerns me all the time when we talk about children and young people, and then end up treating four year-olds, 14 year-olds and 18 year-olds. I am glad that that is there, and I hope that we will look at it again in future.
I want to concentrate on Amendment 93 and reflect and comment more generally on the problem of a definition, or a lack of definition, of harm in the Bill. For the last several years that we have been considering bringing this Bill to this House and to Parliament, I have been worried about the definition of psychological harm. That is largely because this category has become ever more expansive and quite subjective in our therapeutic age. It is a matter of some discussion and quite detailed work by psychologists and professionals, who worry that there is an expanding concept group of what is considered harmful and what psychological harm really means.
As an illustration, I was invited recently to speak to a group of sixth-formers and was discussing things such as trigger warnings and so on. They said, “Well,
you know, you’ve got to understand what it’s like”—they were 16 year-olds. “When we encounter certain material, it makes us have PTSD”. I was thinking, “No, it doesn’t really, does it?” Post-traumatic stress disorder is something that you might well gain if you have been in the middle of a war zone. The whole concept of triggering came from psychological and medical insights from the First World War, which you can understand. If you hear a car backfiring, you think it is somebody shooting at you. But the idea here is that we should have trigger warnings on great works of literature and that if we do not it will lead to PTSD.
I am not being glib, because an expanded, elastic and pathologised view of harm is being used quite cavalierly and casually in relation to young people and protecting them, often by the young people themselves. It is routinely used to close down speech as part of the cancel culture wars, which, as noble Lords know, I am interested in. Is there not a danger that this concept of harm is not as obvious as we think, and that the psychological harm issue makes it even more complicated?
The other thing is that Amendment 93 says:
“The harms in this Schedule are a non-exhaustive list of categories and other categories may be relevant”.
As with the discussion on whose judgment decides the threshold for removing illegal material, I think that judging what is harmful is even more tricky for the young in relation to psychological harm. I was reminded of that when the noble Baroness, Lady Kidron, complained that what she considered to be obviously and self-evidently harmful, Meta did not. I wondered whether that is just the case with Meta, or whether views will differ when it comes to—