
Image: ChatGPT
TikTok, the wildly popular video-sharing platform with more than 150 million American users, is once again under threat of a nationwide ban unless former President Donald Trump—now in office again—extends the deadline requiring its Chinese parent company, ByteDance, to divest. While the national security rationale remains a central talking point, the deeper issue is being overlooked: the demographic most impacted by this ban—American youth under 18—has no political representation and no say in this decision. In a democratic society, such a disconnect between governance and those governed raises serious ethical and structural concerns.
The Protecting Americans from Foreign Adversary Controlled Applications Act (PAFACA), signed into law by President Biden in April 2024, mandates ByteDance to sell TikTok’s U.S. operations or face a ban by January 19, 2025. This law was upheld by the U.S. Supreme Court in TikTok v. Garland, reinforcing the government’s authority to act on national security grounds (Associated Press, 2025). But enforcement of the ban has been repeatedly delayed by President Trump through executive orders—ostensibly to allow for negotiations over a U.S. buyout of the platform (Allyn & Kim, 2025a).
What’s most troubling is how this entire debate—playing out in congressional hearings, courtrooms, and campaign rallies—has occurred without the inclusion or input of those most affected: young people. Teenagers make up a disproportionately large share of TikTok users, yet their opinions, interests, and creative spaces are being weighed and possibly erased by people they cannot elect, pressure, or even speak to.
Recent polling shows the sharp generational divide on this issue. According to Pew Research Center (McClain, 2023), only 18% of teens support a TikTok ban, in contrast with 38% of adults. Yet because minors cannot vote, run for office, or make financial contributions to campaigns, their overwhelming opposition to a ban goes unheard. The structure of the U.S. political system excludes them from direct participation, allowing their interests to be ignored in the name of protection.
This is not the first time youth culture has been targeted under the guise of national security or moral panic. In the 1950s, comic books were accused of corrupting children’s minds, leading to the creation of the Comics Code Authority, which gutted much of the medium’s artistic vitality (Reynolds, 1992). In the 1980s, Dungeons & Dragons was falsely linked to Satanism and suicide. Explicit music in the 1990s brought about parental advisory stickers and congressional hearings, though few long-term effects on youth behavior were ever substantiated. Time and again, American policy has leaned toward paternalistic control over genuine youth inclusion—and TikTok is only the latest chapter in this pattern.
Of course, concerns about data collection by a Chinese-owned company should not be dismissed. TikTok collects biometric identifiers, geolocation data, browsing history, and more. However, as Fung (2023) of CNN reports, there is no public evidence that this data has been shared with the Chinese government. Many social media platforms based in the U.S. collect similar or even more invasive information. If the core issue is data privacy, then comprehensive tech regulation—not selective banning—would be the more consistent and democratic solution.
Other democratic nations have pursued more measured responses. European governments have banned TikTok from official devices and demanded stricter privacy guarantees—but they have not banned it entirely from public use (Allyn, 2025). These more proportionate policies allow youth culture to continue while addressing national concerns with oversight and regulation. The U.S., on the other hand, is preparing to take the most drastic possible action: a nationwide removal of an app integral to teenage expression, identity, and even income.
TikTok is not just a platform for memes and dances. It is a digital public square for many young people. It’s where they express creativity, share political ideas, discover new music, form friendships, and build audiences. For some, it is a crucial income source through brand deals and affiliate links. Shuttering TikTok removes not just an app but an ecosystem of youth culture—without even giving that generation a seat at the table.
There are alternatives to an outright ban. The RESTRICT Act gives the Commerce Department the ability to monitor and restrict apps controlled by foreign adversaries, without defaulting to prohibition. Proposals such as requiring data localization, implementing third-party audits, or placing restrictions only on government devices would achieve better balance between security and liberty. More radically, policymakers could establish formal youth advisory boards to provide input on cultural and digital policy.
In a democratic society, representation is fundamental. And yet, American teens remain politically invisible. Their cultural spaces are scrutinized, regulated, or shut down by adults who claim to act in their best interest—but without ever asking what those interests actually are. To ban TikTok without youth input is to legislate without listening. It is a contradiction of democratic ideals.
The debate over TikTok is not simply about data or geopolitics—it is about who gets to be heard. Until young people are seen as full participants in the democratic process, decisions like these will continue to reflect not just national interests, but generational neglect. We must do better. Not only because TikTok matters—but because youth voices matter.
References
Allyn, B. (2025, April 4). Trump issues another TikTok ban extension. NPR. https://www.npr.org/2025/04/04/nx-s1-5347418/trump-tiktok-second-ban-delay
Allyn, B., & Kim, J. (2025a, January 18). Trump says he’ll likely give TikTok a 90-day extension. NPR. https://www.npr.org/2025/01/18/nx-s1-5266883/trump-tiktok-delay-ban
Allyn, B., & Kim, J. (2025b, January 19). TikTok is back online in the U.S., following Trump’s promise to pause the ban. NPR. https://www.npr.org/2025/01/19/nx-s1-5267568/tiktok-back-online
Associated Press. (2025, January 17). Supreme Court seems likely to uphold a federal law that could force TikTok to shut down on Jan. 19. AP News. https://apnews.com/article/tiktok-supreme-court-national-security
Fung, B. (2023, March 21). Lawmakers say TikTok is a national security threat, but evidence remains unclear. CNN. https://www.cnn.com/2023/03/21/tech/tiktok-security/index.html
McClain, C. (2023, December 11). A declining share of adults, and few teens, support a U.S. TikTok ban. Pew Research Center. https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2023/12/11/a-declining-share-of-adults-and-few-teens-support-a-us-tiktok-ban/
Reynolds, R. (1992). Superheroes: A modern mythology. University Press of Mississippi.


The Problem with “Owning the Libs”
By Katherine Walter
On September 20, 2025
In political science
Illustration contrasting “own the libs” cruelty with progressive compassion. (Image generated by ChatGPT, 2025)
In recent years, the phrase “own the libs” has become a rallying cry for many conservatives. At first glance, it might seem like harmless political banter—a way to laugh at the other side. But taken seriously, this mindset reveals something troubling about how politics is being practiced in the United States. It shows a shift away from solving problems and toward something much darker: treating politics as a game where the goal is to make other people suffer.
The idea of owning the libs is not about making life better for ordinary people. Instead, it’s about celebrating when someone else is angry, humiliated, or hurt. Passing laws that restrict healthcare, rolling back rights for LGBTQ+ people, or undermining voting access aren’t framed as solutions to real problems. They are framed as victories precisely because they upset progressives. Cruelty itself becomes the goal.
But politics should not be about harming others—it should be about helping people. That is the central difference between the conservative “own the libs” mindset and progressive politics. Progressives, at their best, focus on policies that improve people’s lives: expanding access to healthcare, making schools stronger, reducing poverty, and protecting the freedom to live authentically. The success of progressive politics is measured in lives improved, not tears shed by political opponents.
This difference matters because it points to two fundamentally different visions for our society. One vision treats politics as a contest of domination, where the worth of an idea lies in how much it angers “the other side.” The other vision treats politics as a tool for compassion, where the worth of an idea lies in how much it improves the lives of our neighbors.
Of course, no political movement is perfect. Progressives sometimes stumble, and not every policy works out as intended. But there is an important moral distinction between trying to help people and trying to hurt them. If our politics is driven by spite, we will end up with policies that deepen division and suffering. If our politics is driven by empathy, we have at least a chance at building a society that is fairer, freer, and more humane.
The question is not whether liberals or conservatives “win.” The real question is: do we want our politics to be about cruelty—or about compassion?