Youth in the 60s had acid: We have TikTok

Shortly after New Year’s Day, I was sitting with my group of friends in the kitchen discussing our New Year’s resolutions. Perched on the kitchen island, we all admitted we wanted to reduce our screen time. The conversation quickly turned to our phone addictions, particularly the pull of apps like TikTok and Instagram, and our fears about their negative effects. This extreme use of mobile devices is often regarded as ‘zombie scrolling’: the excessive consumption of short-form or user-generated content or news.

While ‘doomscrolling’ involves actively seeking out negative or distressing news, zombie scrolling is more passive: you are not looking for anything in particular, but keep scrolling nonetheless. Constantly scrolling or swiping can trigger dopamine release, but in the long run, zombie scrolling harbours various negative side effects. One of these is ‘brain rot’, Oxford’s 2024 Word of the Year, which describes the mental fog and cognitive fatigue caused by consuming low-quality, fast-paced online content.

‘Zombie scrolling’ acts as a coping mechanism, a small, controlled way to distract ourselves from global crises, societal pressure, and the creeping anxiety of growing up in uncertain times

It is no secret that, as a society, we spend far too much time online, especially Gen Z. Reports suggest that young adults are spending a record six hours a day online. Social media platforms are designed to capture attention: endless feeds, short videos, push notifications, and algorithmic suggestions make it impossible to put the phone down.

Devices are no longer just tools for communication, but they have quickly become the primary space where friendships, hobbies and identities are explored and maintained. School, university, work and social life increasingly exist in digital spaces, from messaging apps and group chats to online learning platforms. For many young people, checking their phone has become as habitual as brushing their teeth.

However, young people do go online for positive reasons. According to Ofcom’s 2025 Online Nation report, 69% of 13 to 17-year-olds use websites, apps, or other online services to help with various aspects of their wellbeing. Nearly eight in ten stated that the internet helps with their schoolwork, and 55% stated that it helped them with learning new skills. Yet most commonly, phones and social media act as a convenient refuge, a way to escape, distract or even keep busy when thinking about reality feels unbearable.

While it is easy to criticise endless scrolling as ‘brain rot’, for many young people it serves a different purpose: a way to zone out when the world feels overwhelming. Every day, social media and news feeds bombard us with stories of global conflict, injustice, and crisis: images of war in Gaza, famine in Sudan, political unrest in Congo, or ICE raids in the US. Online misogyny and harassment, climate anxiety, and the constant pressure to perform socially add to the sense that the world is consumingly hostile and exhausting. In this context, zombie scrolling can act as a form of temporary relief, a way to turn off the part of the brain that wants to think too hard about these problems.

68% of young people aged between 16 and 21 report encountering harmful or distressing content online. The obvious solution might seem to be putting the phone down, but for many, drowning out negativity with seemingly trivial content, such as viral TikToks, short videos, or endless listicles, provides a momentary escape from existential dread. Young people may scroll for hours, not out of laziness, but because constantly engaging with the horrors of the world can feel overwhelming. In a sense, ‘zombie scrolling’ acts as a coping mechanism, a small, controlled way to distract ourselves from global crises, societal pressure, and the creeping anxiety of growing up in uncertain times.

Just as young people then sought relief in substances that hijacked dopamine pathways, today’s generation finds similar comfort in the algorithm-driven, endlessly scrollable content of social media

Gen Z is far from the first generation to turn to addictive behaviours as a way of coping with a chaotic and unjust world. In the 1960s and 70s, young people frequently relied on drugs, from cannabis and psychedelics to alcohol, as a way to escape the pressures of political unrest, social inequality, and global conflict. The Vietnam War, the civil rights movement, and rising tensions over gender and racial equality created a pervasive sense of anxiety and disillusionment.

Drug culture was not just a fringe phenomenon, but became a widespread social issue, with hallmarks of the counterculture movement, music festivals, and student communities embracing recreational use. Authorities and parents expressed alarm, seeing drug use as both a moral and public health crisis.

Just as young people then sought relief in substances that hijacked dopamine pathways, today’s generation finds similar comfort in the algorithm-driven, endlessly scrollable content of social media. Drawing a comparison between drug culture and zombie scrolling might seem like a stretch, but both examples reveal a broader truth: when society is overwhelming, addictive behaviours offer a temporary reprieve. In both cases, the behaviour is not simply about fun or laziness. It is a coping mechanism, a small act of rebellion against a world that feels increasingly uncontrollable, and a way to manage feelings of existential dread and frustration.

Zombie scrolling gets a bad rep, but for young people, it is rarely about laziness: it is a way to survive a world that constantly overwhelms us with bad news and social pressure. I still have not managed to reduce my screen time, though there is a whole year left, but at least I understand why I am glued to my phone, and why endless scrolling is not just a habit, but a symptom of the times we are growing up in.