‘TikTok keeps me up all night’: Ireland’s teenagers on their relationship with the social media app

We were interviewing teenagers about their TikTok feeds when we learned some of our subjects were showing us the cuddly, decoy TikTok accounts that some teenagers show the adults in their lives. It demonstrated the difficulty with the whole issue: adults are miles behind. It’s hard to regulate something you don’t understand.

“All the academics and policymakers are playing catch up,” Richard Layte, professor of sociology in TCD, says. “We didn’t really have the types of social media platforms and access to them in our hands until about 2006.” He also says: “I think [the writer and psychologist] Jonathan Haidt is essentially correct: this is an experiment on young people.”

Ultimately, we interviewed some brave young people about their real feeds. We also sat with a group of teenagers to hear about their experiences. We quote 12 students from diverse backgrounds but spoke to several more. They’re from schools and youth clubs in two counties. Going on our sample, young people are savvy about how they are being manipulated on social media sites like TikTok, but are nonetheless susceptible to manipulation.

This makes sense, psychotherapist Colman Noctor says, because teenagers are not cognitively developed enough to self-regulate. “Knowing what’s good for you and doing what’s good for you are two different things. A child could give you an internet safety talk [but] it won’t impact on his behaviour ... You tell teenage girls, ‘this is filtered, this is Photoshopped’ [but] they’ll still see that video and think ‘that’s where I need to be’.”

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The kids we spoke to all think they spend too much time on TikTok. They admit to difficulty studying or watching films, and sometimes avoid meeting friends in favour of phone time. Many stay up all night scrolling. Layte, who is involved with the Growing Up in Ireland study, says though engaging with social media can be positive for young people there is increasing evidence it is displacing face-to-face contact and this “impacts their sense of belonging. There’s another displacement, too: sleep”. He references a paper he co-authored that examined “the association of higher digital engagement with depression risk. Displacement of sleep was a big, big factor”.

[ No smartphones before 14: Is this the prescription for a happy childhood? ]

Our teenage interviewees experience an online world where lots of people try to trick them into giving them their attention. Consequently, they have low trust in information. They assume many things to be fake, but don’t have reliable mechanisms for checking what’s real. Being online is often emotional for them. They have fun but adult influencers talk about their problems and they frequently encounter sad or frightening stories. Social media figures tell their audiences they are being lied to by parents, teachers and media. Teens regularly encounter messaging that says: don’t go to college, become an influencer, join this pyramid scheme, look a certain way. “The persuasion of the influencer far outweighs the persuasiveness of that industrious teacher who’s trying to teach them to critique the material,” Noctor says. “Popularity seems to be the thing that drives the authenticity of something rather than its truth.”

There are also bad actors spreading antifeminist and racist messages (a recent DCU study found that TikTok and YouTube Shorts actively amplify such content for boys). The toxicity is consistent with what Colman Noctor sees when working with teenage boys. “You’ll see hyper reckless and risky behaviours around that 16-19 age bracket. [More toxic influencers] know how to hijack that.”

All the teenagers we spoke to have had upsetting experiences online but the bad stuff comes camouflaged in reams of more innocuous material. They see hundreds of videos every day. “What social media does is it exposes you to many more people’s interactions and thoughts [than in the past], which means it sort of overtaxes you,” Layte says. “I think it has a big impact on concentration spans. I think it also contributes to some of the symptoms that we see of anxiety ... I see a lot of students and I have to look after their welfare, and I have definitely observed a worsening of that over the last 15 years. I think that is partly because of the way that social media fragments our experience of the world.”

Gendered roles

In a classroom sit six 14-year-olds, Claire, Amelie, Tara, Ronan, Mark and Billy. Most of them first used TikTok in sixth class. Claire has been on the app since she was nine.

The worst thing, they all agree, is how much time they lose.

“It’s kind of a waste. You’re just sitting there,” Mark says.

“It’s really addicting. It’s hard to stop scrolling,” Claire says.

Those allowed phones in their rooms admit to staying up late scrolling, sometimes all night.

What’s keeping their attention?

“Funny stuff. Sports that I play and like watching. Working out videos,” Ronan says.

The boys all agree. Mark enjoys “storytelling” too.

“Get Ready with me” make-up tutorials are popular with the girls. They’re often matched with “storytimes”, where people talk about their lives. “They’ll do ‘part one’ ‘part two’ so you keep on watching,” Claire says. “They’re really fun.”

Some of the content they’re viewing encourages defined, traditional gender roles. Claire sees videos “that tell you interests girls should have, and interests boys should have and then there are lots of arguments”. She gives the example of “a dad saying he lets his son play with dolls. In the comments people say: ‘This is disgraceful. Men should be at work. [Boys] should be playing with cars.’”

There are lots of videos, she says, where girls say: “I want a lad who’s ‘toxic’, who doesn’t let me near other lads’. And then lads do that and girls [post] ‘Oh lads are horrible.’”

“One girl could post ‘I want a toxic guy’. But then all the other girls don’t want a toxic guy,” Billy says.

“Then your parents, and people not on the app, are telling you it’s not good,” Ronan says. “And you believe them”.

“It’s just mixed signals,” Tara says.

[ Why has the US effectively banned TikTok? What happens now? ]

The teens have seen the rise of the “trad wife” on TikTok, wives who stay at home, serving their husbands.

“I see some videos of girls, housewives, and they have a perfect house and paint such a perfect [picture of] being a housewife,” Claire says. She describes a TikTok trend in which people were doing their mocks and Leaving Cert, and then posting about how much they wanted to avoid working for a living. “[It was all] ‘This is showing me. I’m going to be a housewife.’” She adds, “My friends want to marry rich. I [don’t] really hear about girls not wanting to be a housewife.”

Mark says boys are told: “You need to provide for your family.”

Do they see feminist messages? “Not much,” Tara says.

Upsetting content

Claire has seen girls in videos speak about experiencing sexual assault and “lads [say] ‘You deserve it’ or ‘How does that even happen to her if she’s overweight’?”

Frequently, if a girl talks about difficult experiences on TikTok, the comments are horrible. Boys experience cruel comments too, but they all agree that negative sexist comments are more commonly directed at girls. “Lads aren’t as scared to comment on girls’ videos, as girls [are] on a lads’ video,” Claire says. “Girls are more shy and don’t want to get in trouble with the lads or have lads not like them.”

When Claire was younger she posted a dance video on TikTok that resulted in her older siblings needing to intervene. The video got a lot of attention (“5,000 likes”) including many sexualised comments from “old men”. “I wasn’t expecting any of the comments. It was really upsetting ... I was 11.”

Conspiracy theories

Several of the teenagers are fascinated by conspiracy theory videos. “[About] Madeleine McCann and that the Titanic didn’t fully sink,” Tara says. “I actually tend to [think it’s] true that Diana’s still alive or we never landed on the moon.”

“There’s loads on Michael Jackson,” Billy says. And “that aliens built the pyramids”.

There were loads during lockdown, they say, about the vaccine being used to track people. “[Conspiracy theories] really make you think ... because there’s so much detail,” Claire says.

The line between fact and fiction on TikTok is blurry. “There was a solar eclipse in America and I didn’t know if that was actually happening,” Billy says. “TikTok just makes up loads of random stuff like that.”

Did he check if it was real? No, he says. “After, people had videos of it.”

“If it’s fake, people in the comments will be like ... ‘That’s not real’,” Tara says. “The effort to go on to Google and then search up a news website, sometimes it’s just too much.”

“[If] the majority of people [say] the same thing, you just believe that,” Claire says.

“Don’t be offended by this,” Tara says, “but sometimes I feel like the news is influenced by the Government ... At least you know most of [TikTok] is fake.”

They found out about the Dublin riots from people live-streaming it on TikTok. “They were out on the Luas burning stuff,” Claire says. “I asked my dad, ‘Have you heard anything about this?’ I didn’t know if it was true or not.”

What were people saying on TikTok? “Mostly how the wrong people are getting into the country,” Ronan says.

“They’re trying to get a load of men in and we don’t have the space for them,” Tara says.

Are they concerned with the way all male refugees are tarred as a threat? “It’s not because they’re men. It’s because they’re refugees,” Billy says.

Do they see people talking about how difficult it is for refugees? “Not as much,” Ronan says.

The pushback against school

“There’s loads of things saying that school makes you like a slave,” Ronan says.

“And it’s bad for your mental health and all,” Claire adds.

“All the successful, really rich people own businesses and take a different path,” Billy explains. “If you think about it, everyone really rich didn’t do what everyone else did, like go to college.”

“You spend your whole childhood going to school to work a job nine to five,” Tara says. “Then, when you finally retire, you’re too old to do stuff you like.”

They all believe “the system” is trying to control them. The image of the entrepreneurial influencer standing in front of a sports car is compelling to them. “They’re, like, really rich. It’s not fake,” Billy says.

Mental health

They see lots of mental health content. A TikTok video about ADHD made Tara seek a diagnosis. They all see and like “Put a finger down” videos that ask viewers, holding up 10 fingers, to put a finger down every time they can relate to something being said about a mental health issue.

“There can also be a lot of depressing TikToks [that] make you think you’re depressed,” Claire says. “There’s a lot of things [about] anorexia. Things that would trigger people.”

She also worries that some videos glamorise self-harm. “I see videos [that say] ‘it takes the pain out of my head’ ... [It] makes you think it’ll make stuff stop.”

Under the influence

The teens all try out beauty fads and diets they’ve seen on TikTok, from chia seeds in hair, to honeycomb on eyelashes, to bulking milkshakes.

There are videos the teens feel compelled to engage with. Like what? “If you don’t like this video, something is going to happen to you,” Tara explains.

“Click four buttons to save my dog from dying of cancer,” Billy says.

“Some people might feel pressured to dress or look some way,” Mark says

“I know a lot of my friends have felt pressured to look a certain way,” Claire says. “The lashes, get your hair done. It’s really tiring.”

[ EU threatens to ban TikTok Lite over reward-to-watch feature amid concerns for children ]

“You can’t always see when people have filters on,” Tara says.

Claire says there are lots of videos telling girls how they should dress. “They’ll be posting ‘boys don’t like you dressing this way’.” It influences her choices. “There’s a lot of videos of girls in bikinis or really tight clothes, and that paints a picture of what other girls think they should look like.”

“Bad” videos stay in their minds longer, Ronan says. “Gym ones ... Where you’ve people telling you what you should look like.”

“When I post one TikTok that gets a lot of likes,” Claire says. “And I post another one that doesn’t [I think] ‘Am I doing something wrong’? ‘Did I not look good in that video? ’Will I just delete it?’”

They all say they often wish they didn’t have smartphones but only if no one else did. Do they think they’ve changed who they are based on expectations they see on TikTok? They’re not sure, they say, because “you also don’t really realise you’ve changed”.

‘So much is fake’

Eamon is 15. His friend Damian is 14. Eamon is a little nervous about what might come up on his feed. What age does TikTok think he is? “Like 400.”

The first video is just a guy taking pictures of buses, the next is a guy rapping. It seems inoffensive, until Eamon notes: “He’s friends with some neo Nazi guy ... [an influencer who’s] into making jokes that are racist just to get a reaction.”

Do they see Andrew Tate any more? No, Eamon says. “You do get some [anti-woman] podcasters but I just skip past them. They’ll have a woman on and they put up the parts where they’re winning arguments with her.”

There’s a clip from Grand Theft Auto, a Drake video, a lot of content about cars (Eamon loves cars). There’s a confusing meme about “Latina girlfriends”. Then up pops a video that says: “I hope your priest has fun with the children” followed by claims that public servants commit more abuse than clergy. It’s from someone called “Catholic Defender”.

“I do see a lot of this stuff,” Eamon says.

More car content. Some hip hop. An uplifting video about a man bringing his elderly grandfather on a flight simulator. Then a video game meme with the text: “Me eating a hooker’s corpse.”

“There’s a lot of stuff that’s just the most extreme, worst thing they can think of,” Eamon says. “I guess it’s just for a reaction.”

“They like to fake celebrity deaths to get a reaction,” Damian says.

“I think we check things more than old people,” Eamon says. “So much is fake. If you see someone has died there’s an 80 per cent chance it’s fake.”

Two popular streamers Sketch and Jynxzi rap. There’s a meme about basketball, another about failing exams. There’s secretly recorded footage of a singing barber. There’s a video of someone getting stuck in the door of a bus before being dragged down the street. “It’s sort of upsetting,” Eamon says. “It’s not like gore or anything. If they’re posting the video she’s probably okay.”

The Migos rap group play Minecraft. There’s a meme about celebrities being on the weight loss drug, Ozempic. Then there’s a split-screen video with Mr Beast on the top and a video game on the bottom. “People’s attention spans are too short to watch one video,” Eamon says.

A racist video pops up claiming Indian villagers worship toilets. “There’s no context,” Eamon says. “I’m looking at the hashtag and it says #nukeindia. Every video is just trying to get likes or shares or comments, or to influence. Some of them are just funny and some of them are like this.”

Is there much racist stuff? They both say, very quickly: “Yes.”

A video comes up featuring a Roma woman allegedly shoplifting. Many of the comments are racist. Some of it, Eamon says, is in a sort of code to avoid being banned. Is it common for creators to try to hide offensive content? “There was a lot of Holocaust denial stuff where they’d just say 270,000 people died instead of 6 million ... But they’d put it in ways that would hide it. That’s stopped.”

Were people on TikTok saying the Holocaust didn’t happen? “Yeah,” says Eamon.

“When one thing becomes very popular, lots more people start posting about the same thing,” Damian says. “I’m interested in planes and I started watching plane videos and [soon] it was memes about people rushing out of Gaza with planes and it was all racist and horrible.”

Does that affect their mood? “Sometimes it just sticks in your head,” says Damian.

“There’s bad people in every community,” says Eamon. “So, no matter what you’re interested in, you’ll definitely see some bad stuff.”

‘I sit until four in the morning and she pops up’

Matthew is 17 and has been on TikTok since he was 11. He scrolls incredibly quickly, even though he’s going slower for our sake.

We open his feed. A man discusses a viral video of two girls brawling. We see audio from the same fight dubbed over animated penguins. An AI robot voice talks about medieval corpses exploding. Then there’s an image of two influencers with the text: “Me with my pookie [a term of endearment like ‘honey’].” He hits “like”.

Another video features two layers of images – graphic shapes and a knitting video – with an AI robot reading a story from a problem page. Matthew loves these because of the busy imagery. “They’re complete ADHD traps.”

Why two layers of images? “To keep you interested.”

Next a comedian talks about a saint who looks like he’s in a Pride parade. “She’s gas. I sit until four in the morning and she pops up.”

Would he watch TikTok that late? “TikTok keeps me up all night. I say, ‘just one more’.

How many hours did he look at it yesterday? He checks. “Five hours 35 minutes.”

What’s the ratio of good videos to crap videos? “I’d say one to 10.”

He has seen some upsetting things online: car crashes, assaults, children abusing solvents, but he scrolls past and tries not to think about it. The thing that upset him most was seeing someone put a dog in a bin and set it on fire. “I reported it.”

He worries about younger teens. He tells us about anorexia content and shows us a video of an influencer who has anorexia. She looks unwell. He outlines the complicated relationships between that influencer and others. He tells us about another figure who is rumoured to be a paedophile. The next video we see is a man talking about a social media star who conspiratorially-minded people believe has been kidnapped. “[Commenters] telling them to wear certain coloured clothes if they are in danger,” Matthew says.

TikTok is my Google. When I didn’t know about the referendum, I went straight to TikTok

There’s a Simpsons clip, a clip of actor Millie Bobby Brown, more lip-syncing, a Ken doll sexually harassing a Barbie. Three girls talk about how drunk they are. There’s footage of an angry toddler. The text says: “Your short friend when you mention height.” This meme comes up a few times and each time Matthew sends it to a friend. Is she short? “Yeah.”

Has he encountered Andrew Tate? “Oh, he can shut up,” he says, but adds that he likes some of what Tate says. “He’s bad because he’s saying women belong in the kitchen, but he’s also saying if you want to be able to make money, put yourself to it. If you want something, do it, take it.”

Others have replaced Tate, he says. He shows us some podcasters who post edited content where they “win” arguments against feminists. He talks about a TikToker who discussed an abusive relationship only to be attacked in the comments.

There’s an oddly filtered video of a real child having a tantrum, then footage of an elderly woman being caught on shop security shutters and lifted by her coat. “If you don’t laugh, you’d cry,” Matthew says. Then there’s a mentally ill woman shouting on a train. Matthew doesn’t believe this one’s real.

There’s a clip from a TV show. A man pretends to be a schoolboy. Matthew nearly likes a meme featuring Shrek, but stops when he sees the follower count. “Low followers, I’m not interested.”

He likes footage from the Tomorrowland festival (“Where I want to go”) and a video about Scooby Doo tattoos. There’s a video in which someone makes a cocktail in a bucket while talking about electrolytes and hydration. “It’s a hack to drink a bunch [and] not feel terrible,” Matthew says.

There’s a rotating cigarette accompanied by sexy funk music, a haircare tutorial, a drag queen dancing and another “me and my pookie” clip. This time he selects “not interested” though he liked it 10 minutes before. He laughs. “I’m not interested any more.”

‘The comments are horrible’

Bernice, Jane and Katie are 17 and have known each other since primary school. Most of the content on Bernice’s feed is lip-syncing videos, make-up tutorials and influencer banter.

An English comedian talks about dating cousins. An influencer flirts while getting a drive-through order. There’s a clip from a TV show. They don’t watch TV any more, says Jane. “People post whole movies to TikTok so you’d watch it in parts.”

Then there’s funny footage of a postwoman with a coffin in her car, a video in which students give a gift to an elderly teacher and footage of a handsome man dancing. “That’s Jason Derulo,” Bernice explains.

Do boys see the same content? “Boys just see football,” Jane says.

Did they ever see influencers like Andrew Tate? “People posting about him and also saying he was bad,” Jane says.

“It used to be people supporting him all over my page,” Katie says.

“My ex used to post TikToks about him saying he was the GOAT [greatest of all time],” Bernice says.

The next video is a content creator from Coolock in Dublin called Jack Swift. “We love him,” Bernice says.

An influencer discusses anxiety. Another talks about body positivity. “Those videos always get negative comments,” Jane says.

There’s a pop video, a video praising sunbeds and another local influencer. ”This fellah causes murder on TikTok,” Bernice says. “He causes fights.”

“That’s what makes everyone watch him,” Jane says.

There’s a “get ready with me” make-up tutorial, followed by a gym video, followed by a woman discussing what lashes work best with “hooded eyes”. Do TikTok videos make them worry about how they look?

“Oh yeah,” Bernice says. The others agree.

Do they ever see content about eating disorders? “If there’s someone talking about an eating disorder it’s about their journey,” Jane says.

“Ah no,” Bernice says, disagreeing. “The amount of time I’ve seen people posting videos of vomiting.”

Do they look at TikTok too much? “If you’re meant to do something and then you get too comfortable watching TikTok, you say, ‘Nah I’m not going to do that’,” Bernice says.

“TikTok takes me away from studying,” Jane says.

Does it ever stop them doing social things? “No, because when we’re together we just go on TikTok,” Bernice says.

“It’s just silence in the room,” Jane says.

“You might send each other a TikTok and talk about that,” Katie says.

Is that okay with them? “I think of it as normal,” Jane says.

Some men pop up talking about conspiracy theories. “I love these guys,” Bernice says.

“TikTok is my Google,” Jane says. “When I didn’t know about the referendum, I went straight to TikTok.”

They go to TikTok for news, recipes, workouts, hair advice. Is it reliable? “People post TikToks with fake information [about health], but doctors ‘duet’ it telling the real information,” Jane says.

How do they know they’re real doctors? “They’re in a doctor’s office,” Jane says.

They first saw the Dublin riots streaming on TikTok. “What was happening with the kids being hurt was all over my TikTok,” Katie says.

What sort of content did they see? “About refugees coming in unvetted,” Jane says.

Is most of that information from people who are anti-immigrant? Katie and Jane say: “Yeah.”

How can they tell good information from bad? “You see how many people have the same opinions,” Jane says.

“You learn from the comments,” Bernice says.

Do they ever see disturbing stuff? “Sometimes you’d see videos young fellas post of addicts,” Jane says. “Or you’d see people’s lives, people doing Onlyfans.”

Do they see many people in crisis? “There was a girl I saw on TikTok and her fellah cheated on her and kicked her out,” Katie says. “She was on TikTok pleading for help.”

“And there’s this girl on TikTok who has cancer,” Bernice says.

“But some of it is so fake,” Jane says.

Does it affect their mood? “My TikTok knows how I feel,” Bernice says. “If I’m having a bad day my TikTok will show me depression TikTok.”

“Or crime stuff, sad stuff,” Katie says.

“TikTok knows,” Bernice says. “They see in the camera, ‘Ah she’s sad, what would make her worse?’ I’m not even joking. If you’re upset about something TikTok puts up stuff that relates to it. It’s creepy.”

It seems pretty upbeat today. “That’s because I’m not sad.”

In response to a query about teenagers potentially seeing inappropriate on their platform, a TikTok spokeswoman says: “We are deeply committed to ensuring that TikTok is a safe and positive experience for people under the age of 18. We remove 97 per cent of harmful content before it is reported to us, age-restrict videos that are not appropriate for younger audiences, and set a 60 minute screen-time by default for all under 18s.”