Taking a break from the harsh outside world, my friends and I got to catch up after a long period of not seeing each other at home. We discussed important and unimportant life matters and even had a few brain-stimulating discussions. But as the conversations unfolded, I noticed a new pattern, a quiet confession that seemed to pop up repeatedly among my normally politically engaged friends. Currently, many of them barely read the news.
‘I saw a TikTok about it’ stopped being replaced with ‘I read an article about it’. People still knew the ‘soft’ news or biggest headlines, but their information came from surface-level social media posts. Meanwhile, longer ‘hard’ news—updates on wars, politics, or the economy—were rather avoided.
Some said they didn’t have the time or energy to engage with in-depth journalism. Others admitted the emotional toll was too much, and reading the news made them feel overwhelmed, helpless, or deeply sad. ‘It’s exhausting’, one friend said, ‘sometimes I just need to have a break.’
Even in private, this relatable thought generated lingering guilt and the fear of being seen ignorant, apathetic, or careless. ‘If I’m with people, I feel the need to pretend I know everything that’s going on to some extent’, another friend admitted.
We treat staying informed as a solitary task and when it becomes too much, we quietly disengage, ashamed to admit we are struggling
Recently I’ve also been retreating into lighter, more straightforward content to cope with the endless crises. I could skim headlines without reading the article thoroughly or tell myself I’ve ‘read the news’ when all I did was watch one minute of digest. I recognized myself in my friends’ behavior.
This unarguable privilege of not engaging with the news and becoming ignorant, once realized, overwhelmed me even more and made me fear the future where young people barely engage with the state of the world.
In a world where every headline feels like a crisis, it’s no wonder so many of us feel this way. News fatigue and declining trust in the media are real, and they have left many of us balancing the impossible trade-off between staying informed and protecting our emotional well-being. While sharing memes collectively, we treat staying informed as a solitary task. When it becomes too much, we quietly disengage, ashamed to admit we are struggling.
But imagine if we were honest about not knowing or how the news made us feel instead. If instead of judgment, a friend could share an article they found helpful or break down a complex issue with political humor. What if we could turn news consumption into a shared experience that could help us not to shut down from it completely and feel connected rather than isolated, at least in private?
Maybe the solution to news fatigue isn’t always consuming less, but helping each other to consume. Through helping, the burden of understanding the world could feel less heavy, the fear of the future could be less, and the outside world could feel a little less harsh.
LIZA KOLOMIIETS