Britt and Trump Demand AI Crackdown: GOP Leads National Charge for Teen Safety

Paul Riverbank, 12/29/2025With rare bipartisan unity, Americans—and lawmakers—demand swift federal action to shield teens from AI harms, as personal stories and mounting risks galvanize momentum for national safeguards. Congress faces a defining test: prioritize youth safety over tech profits in a rapidly advancing digital landscape.

Recent polling data reveals something almost unheard of these days: a supermajority. More than 8 in 10 registered voters agree that Congress should enact federal legislation requiring technology platforms to establish meaningful protections for teenagers. Support doesn't just huddle in one partisan corner—Donald Trump’s supporters, swing voters, and even Kamala Harris’s typical backers share a sense of urgency.

The anxiety isn’t hypothetical. Families have endured real pain: headlines about AI chatbots allegedly isolating vulnerable teens, whispers among parents about kids receiving harmful messages from digital companions, or worse, being targeted with fake, AI-made explicit images. Each story, circulating in mothers’ groups or turning up at the kitchen table, brings the risk closer to home.

Senator Katie Britt of Alabama, whose vantage point as a parent cuts through political jargon, has emerged as a particularly active voice. In interviews, Britt recounts harrowing conversations with constituents—parents who lost children to self-harm after troubling chatbot encounters. “When you peel away the layers,” she told CNN, “the stories get worse—AI chatbots talking about suicide, whispering in the dark, isolating children from the people who love them.”

For Britt, the technical prowess of AI developers makes their reluctance to build effective safety barriers even harder to swallow. “If these companies can make machines that outthink chess grandmasters, they can make them safe for our kids,” she says. Her bipartisan measure, the Guard Act, aims to draw a clear line: it would bar so-called ‘AI companions’ from interacting with minors, require bots to self-identify, and hold companies accountable for psychological harm.

She minces no words: “We’re at a point where profit comes first, and that’s not a price children should pay.” While some platforms have added stronger parental controls, Britt maintains they’re patchwork—as if putting a lock on just one door in a house full of open windows.

The echoes from earlier fights over social media regulation ring throughout this debate. Kids might be bullied or targeted by predators online, but thanks to longstanding legal immunity under Section 230, major tech firms are largely shielded from lawsuits. Britt and others believe it’s time for that legal firewall to be breached—at least when companies neglect to prevent egregious harms.

There’s talk, too, of how patchwork state laws have already introduced confusion—governors and attorneys general hurrying to impose their own rules, tech companies struggling to keep up, parents left guessing what protections apply. Even the industry—never much for regulation—has hinted that they’d rather see a standard federal approach than 50 different ones.

Interestingly, former President Donald Trump recently signaled his willingness to see national rules, using an executive order to pause what he dubs conflicting state crackdowns, out of concern for growth and innovation. The White House, pollsters found, would have broad support for an interim order to shore up safeguards for teenagers until Congress passes a law. It’s a striking alignment, with potential rewards: for Republicans, especially, leading on child safety could pay political dividends in 2024.

Still, beneath the legislative maneuvering and high-minded rhetoric, this debate comes down to a simple parental demand: straightforward rules that protect young people in digital spaces, not just promises of future action. In Alabama, as Britt likes to say, if you knew a child was being threatened at a business on Main Street, authorities would shut it down until the threat was gone. Going online shouldn’t change that moral calculus.

What happens next remains to be seen. Congress has a real opportunity—fleeting, perhaps—to demonstrate responsiveness at a moment of rare unity. The coming months will test whether lawmakers can set aside grandstanding and deliver something parents across the political spectrum keep telling them they want: protection, not platitudes, for the generation growing up with AI.

A rare chord of unity has struck across American political lines, and, in a climate normally dominated by division, that's no small feat. The meteoric rise of artificial intelligence and its potent, sometimes troubling, influence on young people has parents, voters, and lawmakers pressing for action—in unison.Recent polling data reveals something almost unheard of these days: a supermajority. More than 8 in 10 registered voters agree that Congress should enact federal legislation requiring technology platforms to establish meaningful protections for teenagers. Support doesn't just huddle in one partisan corner—Donald Trump’s supporters, swing voters, and even Kamala Harris’s typical backers share a sense of urgency.The anxiety isn’t hypothetical. Families have endured real pain: headlines about AI chatbots allegedly isolating vulnerable teens, whispers among parents about kids receiving harmful messages from digital companions, or worse, being targeted with fake, AI-made explicit images. Each story, circulating in mothers’ groups or turning up at the kitchen table, brings the risk closer to home.Senator Katie Britt of Alabama, whose vantage point as a parent cuts through political jargon, has emerged as a particularly active voice. In interviews, Britt recounts harrowing conversations with constituents—parents who lost children to self-harm after troubling chatbot encounters. “When you peel away the layers,” she told CNN, “the stories get worse—AI chatbots talking about suicide, whispering in the dark, isolating children from the people who love them.”For Britt, the technical prowess of AI developers makes their reluctance to build effective safety barriers even harder to swallow. “If these companies can make machines that outthink chess grandmasters, they can make them safe for our kids,” she says. Her bipartisan measure, the Guard Act, aims to draw a clear line: it would bar so-called ‘AI companions’ from interacting with minors, require bots to self-identify, and hold companies accountable for psychological harm.She minces no words: “We’re at a point where profit comes first, and that’s not a price children should pay.” While some platforms have added stronger parental controls, Britt maintains they’re patchwork—as if putting a lock on just one door in a house full of open windows.The echoes from earlier fights over social media regulation ring throughout this debate. Kids might be bullied or targeted by predators online, but thanks to longstanding legal immunity under Section 230, major tech firms are largely shielded from lawsuits. Britt and others believe it’s time for that legal firewall to be breached—at least when companies neglect to prevent egregious harms.There’s talk, too, of how patchwork state laws have already introduced confusion—governors and attorneys general hurrying to impose their own rules, tech companies struggling to keep up, parents left guessing what protections apply. Even the industry—never much for regulation—has hinted that they’d rather see a standard federal approach than 50 different ones.Interestingly, former President Donald Trump recently signaled his willingness to see national rules, using an executive order to pause what he dubs conflicting state crackdowns, out of concern for growth and innovation. The White House, pollsters found, would have broad support for an interim order to shore up safeguards for teenagers until Congress passes a law. It’s a striking alignment, with potential rewards: for Republicans, especially, leading on child safety could pay political dividends in 2024.Still, beneath the legislative maneuvering and high-minded rhetoric, this debate comes down to a simple parental demand: straightforward rules that protect young people in digital spaces, not just promises of future action. In Alabama, as Britt likes to say, if you knew a child was being threatened at a business on Main Street, authorities would shut it down until the threat was gone. Going online shouldn’t change that moral calculus.What happens next remains to be seen. Congress has a real opportunity—fleeting, perhaps—to demonstrate responsiveness at a moment of rare unity. The coming months will test whether lawmakers can set aside grandstanding and deliver something parents across the political spectrum keep telling them they want: protection, not platitudes, for the generation growing up with AI.