The last UK general election of the 20th century was also the first to anticipate, albeit faintly, the coming technological revolution. The 1997 Labour and Conservative manifestos both included pledges to connect schools to something they called “the information superhighway”.

That metaphor soon fell out of use, unmourned, although it contains an interesting policy implication. Roads need rules to prevent accidents. Superhighways do not sound like the kind of places where children should play.

The comparison falls short because the hazards in a flow of information traffic are harder to define than reckless driving. Legal restrictions on what can be published online are a more contentious constraint on freedom than speed bumps and breathalyser tests.

Every society recognises that words and images, in certain contexts, do harm and that incitement to commit crime can be a criminal act. There is a spectrum of tolerance and enforcement. Repression of free speech is a symptom of tyranny, but all governments regulate it to some degree.

The threshold for intervention is lower when children are involved. That is why the idea of banning under-16s from social media, already operational in Australia, is catching on elsewhere. Spain this week announced it would do the same. The French parliament voted for a ban last week. The UK government is considering one.

Even Kemi Badenoch, a self-styled crusader for freedom of expression, suspends her routine horror at state interference when it comes to shielding malleable young minds from “violence, pornography and extremist content”. Such material is “optimised to capture attention and maximise engagement”. The result is “rising anxiety, poor sleep [and] reduced concentration”.

The Conservative leader........

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