"Pretty much as much time as I'm awake, I'm on the internet," the Canberra 19-year-old said.

Miss Zantis's habits are unlikely to come as a surprise to any millenial person with a smartphone - or their parents. Those who grew up in the 1990s remember the excitement and limitations of dial-up internet. Children and teenagers today are less likely to know what it's like to be offline. A June 2015 survey found 83 per cent of all teens went online three or more times daily, below the 90 per cent of 18 to 24-year-olds. As well, 97 per cent of Australian homes with children under 15 have access to the internet, and 34 per cent of eight to 13-year-olds online use social media.

Little wonder that navigating the use of screens and social media has been labelled the biggest parenting issue of our time - particularly when internet use has been framed as a right, rather than a privilege.

Jen Lyddiard is among countless parents on the frontline in the battle of device use. The Murrumbateman mum gave her 14-year-old son Maxwell his first phone - an iPhone - in March this year. The phone is primarily for use during the commute between his Gungahlin school and home, and is limited in data and calls.

Ms Lyddiard has access to Maxwell's social media passwords and maintains an ongoing conversation with her children about the appropriate use of devices.

"I know that most of his friends have had phones for years, so that was a big step for me to let him take those baby steps of letting him have his own sort of communication at his will whenever he wanted," she said.

"Especially with Max being my first one, it's all a new learning ground. Each step is a new step and we're learning along the way what works and what doesn't work."

Porscha Mccann, a bright and articulate Canberra 16-year-old, regulates her own device use - and being online is "basically a 24/7 job". Aside from her own Facebook profile (where she has almost 5000 friends), two Instagram accounts (one private featuring photos of "anything", the other more broadly shared and featuring mainly photos of herself), Snapchat ("I usually use Snapchat to stalk people to be honest") and Twitter, she moderates two Facebook pages, including the massive Canberra Girls Advice.

Canberra Girls Advice is filled with more than 12,000 women, mostly from Canberra, mostly aged between 16 and 26. It acts as an open forum where girls can ask for advice on anything from Belconnen's best hairdresser to how to terminate a pregnancy. Bullying is not tolerated, screenshots not permitted and trigger warnings advised. And firmly: no boys allowed.

Porscha carries the weight of the group with the help of five moderators. When women want to to anonymously ask for advice, it's one of these girls they contact. Sometimes the requests are difficult - and responses from the wider group can be brutal.

"Obviously we don't have, you know, medical certificates, and we'll say 'Have you tried talking to a doctor', but if you don't feel comfortable and you just want advice from fellow women then we're happy to post it," Porscha said.

"We do have a limitation on that though - for example, we had one girl who was 13 go 'I want to get an abortion, where can I get that', and unfortunately posts like that do tend to get a lot of criticism, so we don't allow posts like that or posts where someone's like 'Oh, my partner hits me daily, is that considered abusive', because that person then cops abuse..."

The group consumes much of Porscha's life outside of school and work but the thanks she receives from women who have received the help they need motivates her to maintain the role.

"I think the best thing about it is there's so many girls in there that are in a lot of situations that a lot of the other girls are going through and can kind of guide them through that process, and it's kind of hands-on experience that they can pass on that other people like parents or friends or doctors might not have," she said.

Teenagers have long sought advice from other teenagers or trusted sources far removed from their parents. The difference in 2017 is that rather than waiting a month or so to see if Dolly Doctor can shed any light on whether what's going on in their underpants is normal, the response is relatively immediate, however misguided. It's part of what makes the internet so addictive: it's connection.

Teenagers and young adults - this reporter included - readily admit their social media use is centred on the chase for distraction or acknowledgement. A successful Facebook profile picture for Miss Zantis will attract more than 70 likes and is usually a full body shot taken on a night out.

Porscha, with her massive friends list on Facebook, expects at least 100 likes on a profile picture. On Instagram, where likes can be (and, she said, often are) bought, success is counted in comments.

"My generation is just too obsessed with popularity," she said.

It's these motivations that worry psychologist Jocelyn Brewer - why teenagers use the internet, rather than how much they use it.

Ms Brewer, who works in New South Wales schools and specialises in digital nutrition, said her approach for parents came down to an adage that applied equally to online life as it does unusual weather events or terrorism: be alert, not alarmed. Equip teenagers with the skills to balance life on and offline. Build trust.

"A lot of what my work boils down to is coming back to basic parenting and basic boundaries and guidance and mentoring by parents," she said.

"I talk about the idea that if you got a pet, if you got a dog, you don't just get the dog without having the expectation of a range of skills that would go with that. You know you have to walk the dog, you know you have to pick up after the dog, you know you have to feed the dog.

"Whereas it's sort of like, you want the device, you get the device, and then parents don't kind of keep up as much."

Determined to keep up after learning the average child spends six and a half hours looking at screens daily, filmmaker and parent Delaney Ruston turned her camera to the impact of device use on the development of the young brain.

"One of the big things that surprised me was from the science perspective that there's no other time in life when the reward centre of our brain is literally largest - physically larger - than any other time in our lifespan than when we are teenagers," Ruston said.

"We know that the chemical responsible for feeling the reward, dopamine, are feeded when we're doing things on the internet. That is why kids particularly want screen time so much. It's not just psychologic but it's physiologic."

Scare tactics are ineffective, fighting counterproductive. Working with teenagers to set limits is key, Ruston said.

"Parents often in the film will see me do it the wrong and try to set limits without effectively involving my kids and how disastrously that went," she said.

"I think it's a real issue that connection is such a key point of this developmental stage for young people ... Being really validating to them about that is really important and then trying to create systems by which they still feel they can connect with their friends but they recognise and understand there is value to not being connected 24/7."

There is logic, there are facts, and there are teenagers. Teenagers know better than almost anyone how to use screens and navigate the quirks of the internet and its clear and unspoken rules. The internet and its risks and harms and benefits are not going anywhere, and teenagers know that, too - teenagers like Miss Zantis, Porscha, and 17-year-old Canberran Tamzyn Olsen, who is "always doing something but always checking my phone at the same time".

"The main thing about is that growing up in the society we live in today, it is a big part of our world," Tamzyn said.

"Everything almost goes online. To try and restrict us from that will actually limit us in the future because of how our world is going.

"I just think it's something to keep in mind."