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I thought we were doing things right. I admit that we’re on the restrictive — or over-protective — end of the parenting spectrum when it comes to the use of technology.

We haven’t yet succumbed to the unceasing pressure to provide our children with smartphones and data contracts, although they do each have a computer of their own.

In this regard, we are the worst parents in the world, depriving our children of what everyone else has. They claim to be the last kids in the entire school not to own a smartphone. I know, I know, we’re awful.

This Eid, however, I gifted our kids an internet-enabled MP3 player each, so that they could listen to Spotify in their free time, instead of pretending to be doing homework, and neglecting their actual homework. This seemed like a reasonable compromise.

I was satisfied by the claim that Spotify is appropriate for children aged twelve-plus. I found it helpful that there was a toggle to block explicit lyrics on songs. I liked the idea that there was a subscription for families, and the ability to specify the user’s age, so that they would only be served appropriate content.

Of course it turned out that I was extremely naive. The explicit filter is actually completely useless. For as we just discovered, while partially obscuring those songs correctly classified, Spotify is awash with hardcore eighteen-plus content, from podcasts to video clips, intermingled with seemingly innocent playlists.

Suffice to say, this experiment in more permissive parenting has been suspended as I evaluate alternative streaming platforms less likely to expose our children to what used to be called filth. Their devices also support a number of other popular services, or could just store content locally.

I admit that we are probably taking out protective venture to extremes, but then that’s the contract we signed. We are charged with providing them with safety and security. A task we take seriously, even if to our children we are simply draconian tyrants.

It’s difficult. Just last night I was trying to convince my wife that it might be time to give our eldest a phone for the new school year, so that they don’t feel the odd one out. Hours later we’re once again confronted by the very realities we’re so worried about.

I know our kids are missing out. However, I don’t yet know whether that’s a bad thing. Contrary to their protestations, I do actually know how they feel, for my own parents were also strict about what we could watch, listen to or play. I think I resented that too, at the time.

But these are the difficult decisions of parenting. Even more so in the twenty-first century where internet technology is so ubiquitous. Striking the balance between different kinds of harm is hard. And so we stumble on, grasping our way through this minefield, hoping that one day we might get it right.