The Case for Melatonin

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how quickly we reach for quick fixes. If a child can’t concentrate, we look for a diagnosis. If a teen can’t sleep, we reach for a pill. Somewhere along the way, it’s as if we’ve forgotten to look at what’s right in front of us.

Take my 17‑year‑old nephew. Lovely boy, bright, funny, looks a bit like a sheep dog with the latest trends in teenage boy hair being what they are and master of that teenager’s knack for existing mostly behind a closed bedroom door.

Recently, he was prescribed melatonin because he couldn’t sleep properly. The GP didn’t ask much, just noted the sleep issue and handed over a prescription. When I say they didn’t ask much, of course they asked questuions. They enquired how long the issue had been taking place, if he was on any other medication, if he partakes in regular expercise and if he was experiencing any mental health challenges. What they didn’t ask was possibly some of the questions that shape a more holistic view of his daily habits. No one asked what time he switches off his screens. No one asked if he has a bedtime routine. And definitely no one asked how many hours he games each day (the answer: easily sixteen).

Now, before I go any further, let me say this: I am not anti‑melatonin. As a mum of an autistic child who truly struggles with sleep, I know the difference it can make. When your child’s brain doesn’t follow the usual sleep cues, when rest becomes a nightly battle, melatonin can be an absolute lifeline. I’ve seen it work, and I’m grateful it exists.

But that’s exactly why I find cases like my nephew’s so frustrating. Melatonin has a genuine, important place, yet it’s becoming the go‑to default for any young person who can’t switch off at night, without exploring why. For many teens, the problem isn’t always a hormonal imbalance, it can be an overwhelming digital overload. Hours of gaming, blue light exposure, online stimulation, and late‑night scrolling all suppress the body’s own melatonin production.

When we skip straight to medicating the symptom, we risk ignoring the cause. It’s like putting a plaster on a wound that keeps reopening because the source of the injury is never addressed.

Screens are incredible at tricking the brain, especially a teenage one. The excitement, the constant connection and the constant dopamine hits keep the mind wired long past bedtime. And yet, instead of helping young people set healthy boundaries or rebuild natural rhythms, we’re teaching them that there’s a pill for every problem.

Melatonin absolutely has its role. But if a teenager is living mostly through a screen, it’s worth questioning whether what they need first is less supplementation and more separation from the digital noise. We don’t need to demonise melatonin, we just need to change the narrative. Sleep isn’t broken; it’s being crowded out by screens. Melatonin has its place, but so does awareness,  and if we can widen the conversation beyond medication, maybe we can help this generation rediscover what real rest feels like.