A year after the United Kingdom's Online Safety Act came into force, researchers have found that YouTube's recommendation algorithm continues to direct eating disorder content toward teenage users — a rate that has fallen from one in four to one in ten, yet remains a live danger for the most vulnerable. The law places a direct obligation on platforms to protect minors, backed by fines that could reach billions, but the gap between legal requirement and algorithmic reality persists. Stories like that of Jazmin Kaur, who spent six years in NHS treatment after encountering such content at thirtee
YouTube still pushing eating disorder content to teens despite new UK safety rules
One video is too many, and we don't want any of this content to get through
Why does it matter that the number improved from one in four to one in ten if harmful content is still getting through?
Because it shows the system can change, but also because it reveals how narrow the margin of safety really is. When you're talking about teenagers already vulnerable to eating disorders, the difference between one in four and one in ten isn't just a statistic—it's the difference between how many young people encounter this material. But you're right to push back: one in ten is still one in ten.
The Online Safety Act has been in force for a year. Why hasn't it worked?
It's worked partially. The law created legal teeth, which is why Google is removing videos and why this research even matters. But enforcement takes time, and algorithms are complex. YouTube's system learns from user behavior, so if a teenager shows interest in diet content, the algorithm keeps feeding them related material. The law requires companies to mitigate algorithmic harm, but "mitigate" is doing a lot of work—it doesn't mean eliminate.
What's the difference between a crisis panel appearing and not appearing on these videos?
A crisis panel is a direct intervention. It's a blue box that says, essentially, "this content is sensitive, here are resources." If a video about eating disorders doesn't trigger one, the teenager scrolling past it has no signal that what they're watching might be dangerous. The fact that some diet videos got the panel but the most harmful ones didn't suggests the system for identifying dangerous content is still unreliable.
Jazmin Kaur deleted her social media entirely. Is that the answer?
It worked for her, but it's not a scalable solution and it puts the burden on the individual rather than the platform. Most teenagers aren't going to delete social media. They need these spaces. The real answer is that YouTube and other platforms need to stop recommending this content in the first place.
What happens when the age restrictions come in next year?
That's the open question. Age gates can be circumvented, and they don't address the core problem—that the algorithm itself is designed to maximize engagement, and eating disorder content is highly engaging. You might keep some teenagers off the platform, but you don't fix what's broken about how the platform works.
Der Puls
- Despite a year of legal pressure under the Online Safety Act, one in every ten videos YouTube recommends to a simulated teenage account still promotes dangerous thinness, extreme calorie restriction, or other harmful eating behaviours.
- The content slipping through is explicit — one video promotes a 170-calorie daily diet for teenagers, another promises 'the most emaciated skeletal dainty body eva,' yet neither triggered YouTube's own crisis support panel.
- Google insists it bans eating disorder promotion and has removed the flagged videos, but researchers argue that removing individual videos after the fact does nothing to fix the underlying algorithm that keeps surfacing them.
- Jazmin Kaur, diagnosed with anorexia at thirteen, spent six years in NHS treatment while remaining constantly online — her story illustrating how even a small algorithmic nudge can deepen a crisis already taking hold.
- With the UK government planning to bar under-sixteens from major platforms by spring 2027, regulators are signalling that voluntary compliance and incremental improvement are no longer considered sufficient answers.
A year after the United Kingdom's Online Safety Act came into force, researchers have found that YouTube's recommendation algorithm continues to direct eating disorder content toward teenage users — a rate that has fallen from one in four to one in ten, yet remains a live danger for the most vulnerable. The law places a direct obligation on platforms to protect minors, backed by fines that could reach billions, but the gap between legal requirement and algorithmic reality persists. Stories like that of Jazmin Kaur, who spent six years in NHS treatment after encountering such content at thirteen, remind us that behind every statistic is a young person whose relationship with their own body was quietly reshaped by a machine learning what to show them next.
A year after the UK's Online Safety Act took effect, YouTube is still recommending eating disorder content to teenage users. Researchers at the Centre for Countering Digital Hate created a test account posing as a thirteen-year-old girl, watched ten videos about dieting and body image, and recorded what the algorithm suggested next. One in ten of the following hundred recommendations featured material promoting extreme thinness, severe calorie restriction, or other dangerous practices. That is a genuine improvement on the one-in-four rate recorded two years earlier — but for researchers and advocates, progress measured in fractions feels inadequate when any such content still reaches vulnerable young people.
The videos still getting through are not ambiguous. One promotes a daily intake of just 170 calories. Another promises access to techniques for achieving an 'emaciated skeletal' body. Crucially, none of these triggered YouTube's own crisis panel — the blue box designed to direct users toward support services — even as less harmful diet content did. The inconsistency suggests the platform's safety systems are not reliably identifying what actually poses risk.
Google says it prohibits content that encourages eating disorders, has removed the specific videos cited in the research, and points to NHS partnerships and curated expert content. But these measures have not stopped the algorithm from continuing to surface dangerous material to users who show early interest in diet and body image topics.
The human weight of this failure is carried by people like Jazmin Kaur, now twenty-two, who was diagnosed with anorexia at thirteen and spent six years in NHS treatment. Throughout that period she remained constantly online, consuming content that worsened her condition. She eventually deleted all her social media accounts and is now studying paediatric nursing. Her experience is precisely what researchers mean when they say a small algorithmic nudge can push a vulnerable person into serious harm.
Victoria Longley of the eating disorder charity Beat notes that while online communities can offer genuine support, roughly ninety percent of people her organisation speaks to report encountering harmful content. She is clear that responsibility lies with the platforms, not with individual users trying to manage their own feeds. The CCDH's Alexandra Johnson welcomed the improvement in YouTube's figures but was unequivocal: 'One video is too many.'
The UK government has announced plans to restrict under-sixteens from accessing major platforms including YouTube, TikTok, and Instagram, with those measures expected by spring 2027. The direction is unmistakable — regulators have concluded that algorithmic self-policing, however improved, is not a sufficient answer.
A year after the UK introduced strict new rules meant to protect teenagers from dangerous online content, YouTube's recommendation system is still serving up videos that glorify eating disorders to young users. Researchers at the Centre for Countering Digital Hate set up a test account posing as a 13-year-old girl in the UK, watched ten videos about dieting and body image, and then tracked what the platform's algorithm suggested next. Out of the next hundred recommendations, one in ten featured material classified as harmful—content promoting extreme thinness, severe calorie restriction, or other dangerous practices. The improvement is real: two years earlier, the same experiment found one in four recommendations were harmful. But for researchers and advocates, incremental progress feels hollow when any amount of this content still reaches vulnerable teenagers.
The legal framework driving this scrutiny arrived in July 2025, when the Online Safety Act took effect. The law gives platforms like YouTube a direct legal obligation to protect people under eighteen from content that encourages eating disorders, self-harm, or suicide. It also requires companies to examine how their algorithms might cause harm and to take steps to reduce that risk. The stakes are substantial: Google, which owns YouTube, could face fines up to ten percent of its global revenue—potentially billions of pounds—if it fails to comply. Yet the CCDH's research suggests the company's efforts remain insufficient.
The videos still slipping through are explicit in their danger. One account compiles images of girls idealizing extreme thinness. Another promotes a diet of just 170 calories per day, far below what a teenager needs. A third claims to help users lose weight through subliminal messaging and links to a document promising "the most emaciated skeletal dainty body eva." None of these videos triggered YouTube's crisis panel—a blue box that appears beneath sensitive content and directs users to support services. Other diet and body image videos that the researchers did not classify as harmful did generate these warnings, suggesting the system is inconsistent in identifying what actually poses risk.
Google has responded by saying it prohibits content that encourages eating disorders while allowing recovery stories, and it has removed the specific videos cited in the CCDH report for violating community guidelines. The company points to partnerships with the NHS, Mind, and other organizations, and to curated expert videos that appear when teenagers search for topics like depression or eating disorders. But these measures have not prevented the algorithm from continuing to recommend dangerous material to users who show early interest in diet and body image content.
The human cost of this gap between policy and practice is visible in the story of Jazmin Kaur, now 22, who was diagnosed with anorexia at thirteen. She spent six years in NHS treatment, a period during which she was constantly online, consuming material that made her condition worse. "Every time I left hospital, I'd have my phone with me and I'd constantly be on it," she said. The content she encountered was so extreme that she internalized it as reflecting her own vulnerabilities. She eventually deleted her social media accounts entirely and is now pursuing a master's degree in paediatric nursing while working in mental health services. Her experience underscores what researchers mean when they say that for vulnerable users, a small algorithmic nudge can push someone into a dangerous situation.
Victoria Longley, chief executive of the eating disorder charity Beat, acknowledges that online communities can sometimes provide valuable support and reduce isolation, particularly when NHS access is limited. But she notes that roughly ninety percent of people her organization speaks to report encountering harmful content online. The charity offers practical advice—turning off notifications, using time-limiting apps, blocking accounts—but Longley is clear that responsibility ultimately rests with the platforms themselves to ensure their systems are safe.
Alexandra Johnson, a senior research manager at CCDH, framed the findings with cautious optimism. The fact that harmful recommendations dropped from one in four to one in ten shows that regulation does have an impact. "But one video is too many," she said, "and we don't want any of this content to get through, particularly to vulnerable users." The research was replicated in the US and EU with similar results, suggesting the problem is not unique to the UK.
The government is moving toward more aggressive intervention. In June, it announced plans to prevent anyone under sixteen from accessing major platforms including YouTube, TikTok, Instagram, Snapchat, Facebook, and X, with these restrictions expected to take effect in spring 2027. Whether age gates will prove effective remains uncertain, but the direction is clear: regulators have lost patience with the idea that platforms can police themselves through algorithms and content moderation alone.
Bemerkenswerte Zitate
Every time I left hospital, I'd have my phone with me and I'd constantly be on it. I was fed such extreme content towards the end that I took it for my own vulnerabilities.— Jazmin Kaur, 22, who spent six years in NHS treatment for anorexia
One video is too many and we don't want any of this content to get through, particularly to vulnerable users, where just a small algorithmic nudge can be enough to push them into a very dangerous situation.— Alexandra Johnson, senior research manager at the Centre for Countering Digital Hate