Can we still brain rot in peace under Trump?

As a writer, I love content, both creating it and consuming it (within reason). The next part, I say with less pride: like many other vintage Gen Z’ers (those of us born between 1996 and 2000), I’ve fallen victim to brain rot. The temptation to write in internet slang, end my sentences with an ironic slay, and unironically enjoy AI-generated cat videos set to Miaw, Miaw, Miaw, a hauntingly beautiful rendition of Billie Eilish’s What Was I Made For is very real. But am I truly chronically online? I only just learned that Oxford University Press’s 2023 word of the year was rizz—short for charisma. Maybe there’s hope for me yet.

I know TikTok and Instagram Reels are turning my brain to mush. As a comms professional, I’ve seen firsthand how TikTok is outpacing Google as a search engine. Short-form video content isn’t just the future, it’s been the present for a while now. And with it, our attention spans are shrinking. But, as I unashamedly admit, I enjoy my brain rot. For me, rotting is relaxation. My friends and I have reclaimed the word.

That is, until it’s not. When content consumption stops being a fun escape and starts fueling panic attacks and tears. Because, without sounding too dramatic, we’re entering a new age. And not in a fun, this is vibes kind of way. The new era is definitely not giving vibes. Without switching from internet slang to my international politics jargon, the reality is simple: times are terrifying. The global order, flawed as it was, is crumbling. Values like equality, justice, and liberty are being undermined. Fascism is on the rise. And yes, the U.S. has always had its faults. But were the fundamental fabrics of democracy being ripped apart in real time?

Sense is being replaced by bigotry. Minorities, women, and trans people are under attack. I can’t sleep, constantly refreshing the news from across the pond, wondering what fresh hell awaits us next.

I used to think we were lucky. The internet age, where connectivity meant instant messaging, keeping in touch with distant friends and family, and access to endless information. That hasn’t gone away. But in the age of AI, deep fakes, and mass misinformation, information itself is being hijacked. No one knows what’s real anymore. I recently fell for a conspiracy theory, and honestly, I still feel embarrassed. And without sounding like a complete dickhead with a degree, I’d have hoped by now to be better equipped. But it’s hard when your For You page is so tailored to what it thinks you want to see. It’s convincing; people sharing the same opinions, the same fears, the same frustrations.

What’s scarier, though, is that this is no longer just about left vs. right. It’s about morality. Ethics. Basic human decency.

When planning this blog, despite not knowing where I wanted it to go, I almost posted on my  Instagram story asking, Can you still be friends with people who think differently than you? I decided against it because I knew it would invite conversations I wasn’t ready for. Or didn’t want to have. As a firm believer in democracy, I wanted to see what people thought. But I believe I can or at least, I want to. It’s just becoming harder and harder. Because the division isn’t about tax policy anymore, it’s about fundamental human rights. About whether people like me, like my friends, deserve to exist safely in the world.

When I started my degree, after spending the summer reading Walter Rodney’s How Europe Underdeveloped Africa (I promise, I don’t mean to sound pretentious, it just happens sometimes), I overheard someone in my first lecture say, “People here think they’re going to change the world, but they’re not”. I was outraged. How condescending. How rude. But eventually, I understood what they meant.

I didn’t listen, though. I know that on an individual level, I can’t change the world. It’s nearly impossible. I’m not naïve, I’m just a dreamer. An idealist who understands that we have to be the change we wish to see.

Right now, though, I feel the most hopeless I’ve ever been. And in moments of despair, brain-rotting prevails. It’s a comfort. But not anymore. Not in this new world order.

We have to mobilise. Build community. Remember that not everyone is rooting for democracy’s destruction. That not everyone wants to live in a regressed world. We also have to take care of ourselves, be less chronically online. Find ways to mobilise that don’t destroy our mental health in the process.

Here in the UK, we have to act. Because if we don’t, we’re heading down the same path. A brilliant colleague of mine used the metaphor: When the U.S. sneezes, the whole world catches a cold. Well, right now, we need to be working on prevention. Because prevention is always better than intervention, especially when the chaos has already begun.

And on that note: Miaw, Miaw, Miaw, Miaaaaw.