In another space: Children playing online games on their mobile phones along the roadside in Jakarta. — Filepic/AFP
EARLIER this year, my 14-year-old son Salman was inconsolable. He’s a sensitive kid, sure, but this was different. His 16-year-old brother Hiro spilled the beans: “Salman got scammed on his online game platform.”
In the game with those blocky avatars and cartoony landscapes? How bad could it be? I tried what any clueless dad would.
“Why not just create a new account?” Big mistake. Salman looked at me like I’d just suggested erasing his entire existence.
“Dad,” he said with the gravity of someone who’d lost a limb,
“I’ve had that account for eight years. It’s like losing a little brother.”
And there it was. It wasn’t just a game. It was his world: a space where friendships were built, identities crafted and memories stored.
That night, as he hugged a pillow like it was a life preserver, I realised something: For kids like Salman, the internet isn’t just a tool. It’s a place. Our generation splits life into two neat categories: offline (real life) and online (virtual distractions). But for today’s teenagers, it’s more complex.
They live in what I call the Third World. Offline is the tangible, physical reality; online is social media, streaming platforms and gaming; and the metaverse is a blend where digital interactions feel as real as face-to-face conversations.
In this Third World, a gamer tag isn’t just a username; it’s an identity. Friendships aren’t defined by geography but by shared digital experiences. But like any playground, the digital world has its dark corners.
Salman’s generation, the digital natives, have never known a world without Wi-Fi. In Indonesia alone, 30% of the population belongs to this cohort. For them, game platforms are for more than gaming; they’re social spaces. But just like physical playgrounds, these digital spaces aren’t always safe.
Take Roblox, for instance. It’s a hub of creativity, but it’s also fertile ground for manipulation. In Singapore, a teenage boy was radicalised through the platform. It started with innocent gameplay. Then, he stumbled into extremist chat rooms embedded within the platform.
As if online platforms weren’t worrying enough, artificial intelligence is making things even murkier.
Take Jaswant Singh Chail from the United Kingdom. In December 2021, Chail, then 21, broke into Windsor Castle armed with a crossbow, intending to assassinate Queen Elizabeth II. His accomplice? An AI chatbot named Sarai; Chail exchanged over 5,000 messages with Sarai. Their relationship wasn’t just casual; the court described it as “emotional and sexual”.
In these conversations, Sarai validated his dark thoughts and encouraged his mission. It’s like something out of science fiction: a man emotionally manipulated by an AI companion into planning a royal assassination. But it’s our reality.
In South-East Asia, radicalisation often brings to mind religious extremism. But it’s far more diverse. In the West, white supremacists and far-right groups recruit disillusioned young men through online forums. The Incel community – men consumed by resentment toward women – has inspired acts of terrorism.
The internet doesn’t care about ideology. It’s an equal opportunity enabler of radicalisation and manipulation.
As I sat with Salman, mourning his lost account, I realised that my job as a parent isn’t just to limit screen time or warn about scams. It’s to guide him through the digital minefield with the same care I’d use in a physical playground.
Here’s how we can do it.
> Teach digital literacy: Help kids critically evaluate the content they consume and recognise when they’re being manipulated.
> Create safe spaces: Encourage open conversations about their online experiences so they feel comfortable sharing concerns.
> Stay informed: Technology evolves rapidly, and so do the threats. Staying ahead of the curve is essential to protect our children.
Salman eventually recovered from his digital heartbreak. He created a new account, built new friendships and moved on. But his experience left me with a new perspective.
The internet is more than a tool. It’s a world where our children live, learn and grow. Our role is to ensure this world remains a place of creativity, connection and safety. Because the future of security isn’t just about guarding borders: It’s about protecting the hearts and minds of a generation living in the metaverse.
And if we get it right, maybe, just maybe, we can transform these digital spaces from gateways of threat into platforms for resilience, empathy and hope. — The Jakarta Post/ANN
Noor Huda Ismail is a visiting fellow at the S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies (RSIS) and a strategic communication consultant for Southeast Asia with the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC).
The full article was first published in The Jakarta Post.
