Dear Hooman,
It’s me again— Anar Dana, your favourite, basically only, feline philosopher.
I’m writing this piece of art awoken in rage from my short cat-nap of 5 hours, which was brutally ruptured by the relentless tik tik tik tik. Guess what’s that?
Yes, I’m here to talk about something humans do obsessively but never quite admit to- doomscrolling. I mean what kind of a species construct a word with ‘doom’ in it and yet cling on to it? I mean, at least call it hope-scrolling and lie to yourselves properly. **rolling eyes**
Nevertheless, I don’t have thumbs, so scrolling isn’t in my skillset. But I do have a front-row seat to my human’s midnight rituals of infinite scrolls. And trust me, this was not revealed before I adopted her.
Let’s get something straight- Doomscrolling isn’t a hobby; it’s a coping mechanism. Or should I say, a mechanism to avoid coping? It’s not unlike my urge to knock over your coffee cup— impulsive, habitual, and vaguely self-destructive.
Take 1: Doomscrolling as a Defense Mechanism- obviously!
Humans have this thing called the “fight or flight” response, right— though let’s be real, most default to freeze. Doomscrolling, my dear friend, is just another way to freeze, but with your thumb in action. It’s a defense mechanism wrapped in technology, a way to brace against the onslaught of existential uncertainties of life without actually engaging with it. It’s a dissociative manoeuver- a form of emotional anaesthesia— engagement without involvement, awareness without containment.
But here’s the twist: this passive engagement isn’t just ineffective, it’s psychically disruptive. Rather than symbolising and processing what we’re consuming, we’re flooding our psychic apparatus with stimuli, & overwhelming the mind’s capacity for containment. Instead of achieving mastery over the anxiety, you’re caught in a repetition compulsion, compulsively seeking distressing information in the hope that this time, it will feel different— except it never does. It’s the psychological equivalent of licking the same spot on your paw— anxiously tending to the discomfort in a way that only deepens it. The more you scroll, the itchier the mind gets.
Take 2: The Algorithm Knows You Better Than Your Therapist
Let me break it to you: You think you’re in control, but really, the algorithm is the one holding the leash- which I hate, but I have one to guide my walks. Don’t you laugh, you’re no different, Karen!
I’m just highlighting the obvious here, that every like, swipe, and pause you make is data— it’s a psychological map of your desires, fears, and curiosities. The algorithm knows when you’re lonely, when you’re bored, and even when you’re vulnerable. It nudges you toward outrage when you seek connection, feeds you nostalgia when you crave meaning, and dangles catastrophe before you when you’re searching for control. Ever notice how the feed shifts between the excessive, the life quips, and the oddly satisfying?
If Freud were alive today, he’d probably marvel at the sheer genius of this modern-day pleasure principle- the feed gives just enough stimulation to keep the scrolling going, but not enough to satiate the relentless hunger. It’s the digital equivalent of chasing your tail— fascinating, exhausting, and ultimately futile.
Take 3: What Would Freud Say About Your Feed?
Freud might argue doomscrolling is a modern manifestation of the death drive— a compulsion to repeat the same behaviors despite their destructive consequences. The difference? Freud didn’t have to deal with clickbait headlines that speak to the raw parts of your being.
So, what’s the antidote? I don’t know. Who cares if you doomscroll, right? It’s not in the DSM (yet), the tech people hardly care and even though you’d think that I do, I realllly don’t because I love when you watch those cat videos. CATS RULZ!
The question beyond this point is- do You care? And if in some god-forsaken world you do, it might be interesting to experiment with noticing what you’re being fed and why it’s so hard to stop.
And as for my unsolicited but precious advice, human: Next time you catch yourself scrolling, ask what you’re really looking for. Is it connection? Control? Or just a distraction from that gnawing inner world?
P.S. I hope for a day, you’d be bored with your feed.
P.P.S. Isn’t it fascinating it’s called a ‘feed’?!!
