Picture a senator standing in a hearing room explaining that algorithmically pushing self-harm content to a 13-year-old is a free speech issue. That’s not a hypothetical. That’s the argument Big Tech spent $40 million to make — and for a while, it worked. The Kids Online Safety Act stalled, got watered down, and expired before a House vote could happen. Now it’s back. And the same playbook is already running again. According to the Washington Examiner, the framing is dishonest — KOSA regulates platform architecture and design, not speech — and the money behind that framing is staggering.
- The Kids Online Safety Act was first introduced in 2022 by Sen. Marsha Blackburn (R-TN) and Sen. Richard Blumenthal (D-CT).
- KOSA passed the Senate in 2024 by a vote of 91 to 3 — one of the least partisan votes in recent memory.
- The bill expired at the end of the 118th Congress after the House failed to bring a companion bill to the floor.
- Frances Haugen’s 2021 Facebook leak — which exposed Instagram’s documented harm to minors’ mental health — was a direct catalyst for the legislation.
- Big Tech lobbying against child safety legislation has reportedly totaled $40 million across coordinated campaigns.
The “Censorship” Argument Is a Distraction
Here’s what KOSA actually does: it targets the design decisions platforms make that keep children hooked, anxious, and isolated. We’re talking about recommendation algorithms that feed depression content to teenagers, autoplay features engineered to destroy sleep schedules, and engagement metrics optimized for compulsion rather than wellbeing. None of that is speech. None of that is a poem or a political opinion or a news article. That’s architecture.

Big Tech knows this. Their lawyers know this. The $40 million wasn’t spent because they genuinely believe a safety bill is unconstitutional — it was spent because changing the architecture costs money, reduces engagement, and threatens quarterly earnings. The First Amendment is a useful shield. It’s not the actual concern.
Teen anxiety, depression, and suicide rates have continued climbing alongside the explosion of algorithmic social media. Lawsuits have already surfaced internal documents showing platforms knew about these harms and chose engagement over safety. That’s not an activist talking point. That’s evidence produced in discovery. And yet the industry’s public response remains: censorship.
A 91-3 Senate Vote Should Have Been the End of the Debate
When something passes the Senate 91 to 3, it is not controversial. That’s about as close to unanimous as American politics gets. Republicans and Democrats agreed. The public agreed. Pediatricians agreed. And then the House just… didn’t vote. That’s not legislative process. That’s lobbying working exactly as designed.

The bill has now cleared committee again in the current Congress. That’s encouraging. But the same forces that killed it last time are still funded, still organized, and still using the same language. The word “censorship” will appear in op-eds, in testimony, in social media posts from accounts that are definitionally not children being protected by this law. Expect it.
Here’s the contrarian take worth sitting with: civil liberties organizations — including some with genuinely good track records on free expression — also raised concerns about earlier versions of KOSA, arguing some provisions could have chilling effects. That criticism had merit. Legislators listened and revised the bill. The version that passed the Senate 91-3 was meaningfully different from the version that first raised those alarms. When the tech industry recycles those original objections against the revised bill without acknowledging the changes, they’re not making a principled argument. They’re running a lobbying script.
The creator economy is worth watching here too. Platforms love to position themselves as champions of independent creators — and tools like Amaze are building monetization infrastructure that gives creators real independence from platform whims. If anything, reducing Big Tech’s stranglehold on algorithmic distribution is good for creators. The “free speech” framing conveniently ignores that the platforms doing the censorship crying are also the ones who can demonetize or suppress a creator’s account with zero appeal process.
What $40 Million Buys in Washington
Forty million dollars buys a lot of uncertainty. It pays for think tank papers, coalition letters from groups with reassuring names, targeted ads to voters in swing districts, and congressional testimony from experts willing to raise doubt. It doesn’t have to win the argument. It just has to slow things down long enough for the legislative clock to run out — which is exactly what happened in the 118th Congress.
This is not unique to this issue. Industries facing regulation consistently weaponize complexity to delay accountability. The tobacco industry did it for decades. The same structural dynamic plays out whether the subject is carbon emissions, pharmaceutical pricing, or — as it turns out — whether your 14-year-old gets served a recommendation loop of eating disorder content at midnight.
What makes the KOSA fight particularly sharp is the gap between the public narrative and the technical reality. Protecting children online is not complicated as a concept. What’s complicated is that fixing it costs the platforms revenue. That’s the entire story. Everything else — the First Amendment arguments, the slippery slope warnings, the coalition letters — is there to make a financial calculation look like a values debate.
We’re also watching technology develop at a pace that makes regulatory inaction more dangerous by the month. The same platforms dragging their feet on child safety are building out AI features with capabilities that would have seemed like science fiction five years ago. The idea that we should hold off on basic safety standards while that acceleration continues is not a principled position. It’s reckless.
If KOSA passes into law in 2026, it won’t end the debate — but it will mean that for the first time, platforms are legally required to consider whether their design choices harm the children using their products. That’s the minimum standard any responsible industry should already be meeting, and the fact that it took $40 million in lobbying to fight it tells you everything you need to know about why it hasn’t happened yet.
Watch the Breakdown
Sources
- Big Tech spent $40 million to convince you saving kids is ‘censorship’ — www.washingtonexaminer.com
