When Screens Rot the Mind: Reassessing Our Digital Consumption

Not all poison enters through the mouth. Some seeps in through the eyes and ears, quietly corroding clarity of thought. The term “brain rot” is no longer merely a joke on Gen Z’s timelines.

The government has stepped in. Minister of Communications and Digital Meutya Hafid affirmed that the social media industry, which has long treated Indonesian society merely as a market, needs to be regulated more tightly, following the issuance of Government Regulation No. 17 of 2025 on the Operation of Electronic Systems in Child Protection. This regulation was not born without reason: the flood of shallow digital content has become a real threat to the cognitive and psychosocial quality of the younger generation.

The data reinforces those concerns. The Digital 2026 report from We Are Social recorded around 180 million active social media users in Indonesia, with average usage of more than three hours a day. A Litbang Kompas survey in April 2025 even found that 13.6 per cent of respondents admitted to experiencing psychological disturbances due to gadgets—ranging from difficulty concentrating to anxiety—with Generation Z the most vulnerable group.

This phenomenon is not merely a slang trend, but a signal that we are failing to manage our information intake. Many people are trapped in doomscrolling, endlessly swiping the screen even as the content consumed triggers anxiety and anger. Yet Allah SWT reminds us in the Qur’an:

“Indeed, the hearing, the sight and the heart—each of these will be questioned.” (QS Al-Isra: 36)

This verse affirms that what we see and hear is no trivial matter. It will be accounted for, just as it shapes the way we think and behave towards others.

We are so protective of our bodies: willing to pay dearly for organic food, routinely checking our cholesterol, avoiding junk food. Yet that vigilance is rarely applied equally to the consumption of our eyes and ears. Meanwhile, social media algorithms are designed to hold attention for as long as possible, often by serving emotionally extreme content rather than substance. We swallow provocative information raw without verifying its truth—something far from the guidance of the Prophet Muhammad SAW: “Whoever believes in Allah and the Last Day, let him speak good or remain silent.” (HR Bukhari-Muslim)

The impact extends into the social sphere. Excessive exposure to negative news lowers social trust and breeds polarisation. Citizens easily provoked emotionally are prone to spreading hoaxes, while differences of opinion readily turn into enmity. If millions of citizens suffer digital “stomach aches”, the nation’s social stability and productivity are also threatened.

Therefore, digital literacy must become a genuine habit, not merely a clause in a regulation. We need to honestly audit our emotional reactions after using social media—if what remains is only anxiety and anger, that is a sign the algorithm is poisoning the mind. We also need digital hygiene: setting specific times to access the news, curating fact-based information sources, and daring to pause briefly from the digital noise to restore focus and clarity of heart.

The presence of regulation deserves appreciation as the state’s effort to protect the younger generation. Yet rules will only be effective if they go hand in hand with individual awareness, for no clause can reach into the private space of every smartphone screen. A fit body means little if the soul remains burdened by toxic information that corrupts our patterns of thinking. Mental health in the digital era is, ultimately, a collective responsibility—the state, the platforms, and every user each bear their part.

Perhaps that is where we need to ask ourselves again: have we looked after our mental digestion as well as we look after our physical digestion? For technology should be an instrument that liberates the mind, not a prison that slowly rots it.