“Dog videos, dog videos, dog videos,” my friend, convinced Zuckerberg is listening, mutters into his phone to manipulate his Instagram algorithm. “Sounds like you have become an algorithm yourself,” I chuckle at his robotic chant. For the record, he’s perfectly human—thank you very much. “I feel less like a person and more like a profile,” he confesses, though.
Like the process of curating a profile, a meticulous mental calculus precedes Gen-Z’s simplest actions on social media. For this digital native generation, something like double-tapping a post isn’t merely an expression of enjoyment or appreciation—it’s a carefully weighed act. A single like may subtly communicate political leanings, sexual identity, or personality traits. In a cancel-culture-ridden Gen-Z world that runs on perception, this act is analysed, scrutinised, and overthought.
“I usually avoid liking posts. I save them instead,” shares Neha Hegde, a 21-year-old community moderator from Bengaluru. She finds giving away too much of herself online discomforting. “People don’t hesitate to say outright mean and abusive things, and that does take a toll on one’s mental health.” The internet is at once, the most public yet concealed place. And Gen-Z, who pioneered mental health conversations online, now find themselves wrestling with the psychological toll of being seen on the very platforms they employed to promote authentic expression. Suvrat Arora dives into this paradox on The Nod.
