In a move that has sent shockwaves through the nation’s teenage bedroom populace, the Philippines has officially outlawed a video game – presumably one that involves polygons shooting other polygons – following a tragic school shooting. Yes, because as we all know, the root cause of societal violence is definitely the ability to press ‘X’ to respawn, and not, say, unregulated firearms, systemic inequality, or the existential dread of a generation raised on climate doom. The ban is, of course, comprehensive and enforceable: expect armed raids on LAN cafes and grandmothers being hauled off for playing Candy Crush.
Meanwhile, across the pond in Blighty, the Online Safety Bill is being dusted off and given a fresh, urgent polish. MPs are now frothing at the mouth with newfound vigour, determined to protect the nation’s delicate sensibilities from the horrors of Twitter spats and dodgy Facebook ads. The bill, a sprawling legislative behemoth that promises to make the internet a safer place by making it slightly less fun, has gained ‘fresh urgency’ – which in parliamentary terms means someone’s photocopied a new agenda and there’s a slightly stronger smell of stale coffee in the committee room.
The timing is immaculate. As the Philippines takes a sledgehammer to a pixel, the UK prepares to build a digital Maginot Line. One can almost hear the collective sigh of relief from the concerned parents of Tunbridge Wells, who can now sleep soundly knowing that their little Timmy will no longer be exposed to the radicalising influence of Fortnite dances. Of course, the bill will also tackle terrorism, child exploitation, and other genuine horrors – but where’s the fun in that? The real battle is against emojis.
But let’s not be cynical. This is a brave new world of legislative theatre. The Online Safety Bill, in its infinite wisdom, will likely require platforms to monitor everything from hate speech to the use of the word ‘moist’. Tech giants, already quaking in their ergonomic sandals, will have to hire armies of content moderators, who will develop PTSD from viewing the absolute worst of humanity, all so you can post a picture of your cat without fear of reprisal.
And what of the Philippines? Will their ban stop school shootings? Absolutely not. But it will create a thriving black market for bootleg copies of the banned game, sold by shady men in alleyways alongside counterfeit Adidas and slightly-off Haribo. The youth will find a way, because they always do. They’ll play it on smuggled USB sticks, in darkened rooms, with the curtains drawn, their faces illuminated by the flickering glow of rebellion.
So here we are, ladies and gentlemen. Two nations, two approaches, both utterly futile. The Philippines chooses prohibition, the UK chooses regulation. Neither will do a bloody thing. But fear not, for the show must go on. The Online Safety Bill will pass, the game will remain banned, and we shall all be safer for it – just as long as we don’t think about the root causes, the systemic failures, or the fact that we’re essentially rearranging deck chairs on a sinking ship made of hypocrisy and gin.
I need a drink. Preferably one that hasn’t been banned or regulated within an inch of its life. Cheers.
