In a culture increasingly obsessed with productivity, leisure has become something to justify. Activities once intended for rest and enjoyment are now criticized through the lens of efficiency. The result? Public shaming – and even online harassment – targeting people who just want to unwind without the weight of societal expectations.
One term often used to belittle this behavior is “brainrot,” also “brain rot,” a slang phrase that gained momentum through platforms like TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube.
“Brainrot” is typically used to describe joyful digital content that serves no obvious productive purpose. Critics – ranging from smug intellectuals to clout-chasing teenagers – dismiss this content as mindless. Their mindset reinforces the illusion that every waking moment must be optimized, filling the attentionless void left by neglectful parenting.
Because of this, “brainrot” has become a scapegoat for modern anxieties, from shorter attention spans to the claim that teens “can’t read anymore.”
But research tells a different story.
Dr. Sasha Hamdani, a licensed psychiatrist who specializes in ADHD, argues that TikTok is more of a tool for mental health than a threat to it.
“I came to realize this wasn’t just a tween fad but a powerful platform for information transmission,” Hamdani said in an interview via Harvard Public Health. “Younger people didn’t want to read an article or watch a documentary; they wanted these bite-sized pieces of information that educated, entertained, and inspired them.”
Diagnosed with ADHD herself, Hamdani said the app has helped her connect with others in deeply meaningful ways.
“I will never grow tired of hearing that my content has helped someone feel seen or has made possible a hard conversation,” she said. “I’ve struggled with my own ADHD, and making these videos and interacting with followers has been incredibly validating.”
For Hamdani, TikTok has become a way to support marginalized audiences: people who do not always have access to healthcare or mental health support.
“TikTok let me interact with people who were grappling with finding a name for their mental health symptoms, who didn’t have access to a physician and wanted to change their behavior, who were searching for the next step after recognizing signs of ADHD in their child,” she said.
Despite her work and a growing body of research, the negative stigma around digital leisure persists. Critics cling to outdated narratives, ignoring evidence and shaming those who consume content for joy – not productivity.
Local educators echo similar concerns.
“If you’re watching something every 30 seconds, your brain is learning that things should only last 30 seconds,” Karen Szot, psychologist at West Chicago Community High School, said.
She explained that excessive use of fast-paced content may lead to thinning in the cerebral cortex: affecting memory, creativity, and decision-making.
“It reduces your attention. It limits your creativity. It even affects your emotions,” Szot said.
However, Szot, like Hamdani, advocates for moderation – not fear-mongering.
“It’s okay to be bored,” she said. “That’s when the brain relaxes and gets creative again.”
Child Development teacher Brittany Bauer has observed firsthand how screens impact classroom focus.
“Sometimes students just pull out their phone and they’re watching a brain rot video during a lesson,” Bauer said. “That’s impacted their learning.”
But she, too, emphasized that balance is key – not banning screens entirely:
“Watching technology is going to happen,” Bauer said. “Just try to limit the amount of time. Make sure kids are doing hands-on activities and earning screen time after completing a task.”
Rather than framing digital entertainment as moral failure, experts argue it should be recognized for what it is: a valid form of recovery. And in today’s overstimulated, performance-driven world, that recovery is more important than ever.