Recent legal cases brought against social media companies concerning the impact of their products on mental health have provoked some significant questions and debates. Notably, these debates involve accusations of the knowing and deliberate design of an addictive device. However, a further issue of significant psychological importance is the extent to which digital usage (whether the consequence of addiction or not) is responsible for a person’s poor mental health. This question was brought to the fore by the tenor of the argument presented by Facebook’s legal team, suggesting that pre-existing mental health conditions are a more important factor than social media use.

The contention: Even if a person is in clear difficulty with their mental health and they have used social media a great deal, if their mental health condition was poor before the social media usage, then this somehow absolves the social media company from any responsibility. It is an argument long used by insurance companies attempting not to pay out to claimants; in this sense, it is nothing new. However, in the context of digital use, there seem to be clear flaws in this defence, which can be highlighted by some thoughts about analogies.

Arguments Over Baseline Levels

First, there can always be questions asked about the prior mental functioning of an individual displaying problematic behaviour. Yet, even if they did present mental health problems before engaging in social media use, it may well be that social media made that individual’s condition worse. To determine this would require longitudinal analysis of data concerning the individual’s mental health, both pre- and post-social media use, which may or may not be available. Moreover, once a condition is present, it can be irreversible, so arguments about baseline levels are not easily going to get anybody anywhere. Even with this pre- and post-data, it would always be possible to argue that their mental condition would have worsened anyway, with or without social media. This would require assessment of the impact of ‘a return to baseline’ (no social media) to determine whether mental health comes and goes as a function of social media use. That could possibly be done, but it’s difficult. Presenting the likelihood of mental health declining or improving on its own, drawn from the whole population, scientifically interesting though it is, wouldn’t help when an individual case requires specific evidence, as in court.

Second, the argument for the defence is somewhat perilous when looked at from the perspective of risk assessment. The defence team is saying, in effect, that ‘this person was vulnerable, so whatever happens to them is not our fault.’ However, many products do take into consideration, or at least should, to whom they are being sold. For example, guns are not sold to those with mental health problems; similarly, knives are not sold to young people, because there is a risk they will mishandle them and do harm. Perhaps of more direct relevance is that addictive substances, like alcohol and nicotine, are not sold to the vulnerable, as defined by youthfulness. It could be countered to this last example that social media is not addictive—that could be debated, of course—but it is fairly clear that knives are rarely addictive, and they are restricted based on considerations of vulnerability. Finally, it just seems morally questionable to blame the vulnerable for their own calamities, but, of course, defence lawyers often do this.

Third, even if the person is vulnerable in terms of having pre-existing mental health difficulties, would this be an argument that is accepted in defence of the heroin pusher, or the dodgy knife salesperson? To misquote Jane Austin, it is a truth universally accepted that a person with a mental health difficulty is in want of a substance of abuse. Perhaps not quite, but it is certainly the case that many substance misusers, and those with habits and addictions, do have mental health problems. For many who become involved in either substance misuse or process addictions— like gambling, shopping, or social media—the substance or activity is reinforced due to the escape or avoidance it provides from the pre-existing problem. Thus, saying the person was mad before they bought the heroin, or the alcohol, or the knife, is not really a defence; it may predispose to an action, but the brittleness of the glass does not cause the shattering in the way that the person who drops it causes the shattering. Rather, this suggestion of pre-existing vulnerability would tend to exacerbate the guilt of the pusher, or salesperson, or social media company (you know to handle fragile glass carefully).

The Responsibility of the Provider

The question then becomes, did the substance or activity help the person, or not? Perhaps there are some cases where addictions have helped; however, these individuals do not usually turn around and cry foul. The fact that these sorts of individuals exist does not, of course, lessen the responsibility of the provider in the other cases where it did not help. The fact that some people become successful carnival knife throwers, as a result of a knife addiction, facilitated by easy access to sharps, does not mitigate the responsibility of the person who illegally sold a knife to a subsequently rampaging 10-year-old.

Thus, the question boils down to this: In cases of harm, should the social media developer have known that their product can harm some people (not cause addictions per se), and did they take steps to obviate that harm? Of course, answering the question will need evidence that the mental state has worsened, and that it worsened because of social media use, which is tricky. However, the previous mental states of the individual, and or the mechanism of action of the device (overuse, habit, addiction), seem quite irrelevant, and these arguments are just distractions.

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