Remember the Brainrot trend? Or the Ashton Hall morning routine? What about Dubai chocolate? During summer of 2025, the brainrot trend was all over your FYP on TikTok, with millions of users posting and sharing videos. But like most internet trends, it took only a few weeks for it to die down, and the next to pop right up on your screen–replaced by a new viral obsession. Scroll through your “For You” page today and you’ll find no trace of these “ancient” social media trends. 

A decade ago, trends lasted much longer than they do right now. For example, you may remember the “Charlie bit my finger,” video circulating all over social media, which ran for months on end. It stayed popular for years after it was first uploaded, and was shared across YouTube and Facebook before TikTok even existed. Now, memes, dances, and challenges appear, and are left behind within weeks, sometimes days.  

What has changed? Why do modern fads fade much faster than they did only a decade ago? There are many different factors contributing to this change in speed— including the pace of the internet itself. Popular platforms like Instagram and TikTok reward constant posting and quick engagement. The algorithms of these apps push the newest content on the top of everyone’s feed, while jokes from last week are now considered “old news.”

Another reason could be the fact that so many people— especially teens— are online much more frequently today. According to the Pew Research Center, 45% of teens say they spend too much time on social media which is up from 36% just back in 2022. This constant act of “doomscrolling” makes it easy for content to blow up overnight. Although we’re receiving content quicker, it also means it’s going away faster. 

Creators could blow up within days, going from 100 followers to 1,000,000, gaining instant fame. With that, there’s pressure to hit every post at the right moments; before it gets buried under the next wave of content showing up on users’ feeds. Viewers, on the other hand, feel the pressure to keep up with what’s trending, scrolling endlessly just so they don’t fall behind on the newest trend. What used to be a shared internet moment is now a blink and you’ll miss it fad. 

In the end, modern trends fade much faster simply because of how fast the internet is paced. A decade ago, trends had time to grow. Now, they flash across your screen and disappear in days or even less. The pace of the internet has turned viral moments into things that are temporary and only relevant for a little bit. In today’s world, even viral attention has an expiration date–it fades almost as quickly as it appears. 

You sit in the dark, your eyes wide awake, with one bright light illuminating your entire room. You check the clock and it’s already 12:00 a.m., when you could have sworn it was just 10 p.m. “Five more minutes,” you assure yourself. Then the cycle repeats…

Since the rise of popularity in apps such as TikTok, Instagram reels, YouTube shorts, and others, short-form content has been instilled into our daily lives. With this, content on YouTube and Netflix has become unrecognized. Why watch a 20-minute video on one topic when you can watch 100 different shorts covering 100 different topics in the same amount of time? 

As short-form content has taken over social media and become the primary source of entertainment, with 67% of Gen Z preferring short-form comedy, the general population’s attention span has shrunk significantly. This caused industries that were once key roles in entertainment to take a hit. For example, the amount of movie tickets being sold in the U.S. has dropped by 38% in the past decade, arguably with the popularity of short-form content making an impact on that number.

The completion of any form of entertainment triggers a dopamine release. Dopamine— which is often referred to as the “happy chemical” within our brains—is what gives us feelings of pleasure. With short-form entertainment, dopamine releases are occurring repeatedly, keeping us engaged with these apps. However, too much dopamine release is unhealthy, creating neurological reactions that an individual with an addiction would experience. Once we have an initial release of dopamine, our brains desire more, so we consistently go back to the action that triggers it. This repetitive cycle has made us addicts to short-form content. 

With the addiction to instant gratification created by short-form content, the term “doom scrolling” has been invented. “Doom scrolling” is used to describe the act of mindless scrolling for excessive periods of time. As one continues to trigger dopamine releases by scrolling, scrolling becomes natural and one begins to forget the very content one just watched and how long one has been scrolling for. This leads into another common term, known as “brain rotting,” where one consumes such a large quantity of media that it dumbs your mind into a simpler thinking process.

Overall, short-form media has become a foundational part of society and changed the type of content we are intrigued by, altering the way we operate as individuals: possibly for the worse. 

Opening Instagram or TikTok, users are inundated by new clothing collaborations and trends every week. Whether it’s a celebrity launching a limited-time product line or an influencer’s outfit going viral, there is no shortage of options when it comes to fashion. However, this variety contributes to the rise of consumerism and needless consumption.

Fast fashion—a term that describes cheap, mass-produced clothing manufactured by companies to keep up with current trends— has become a lucrative market. In the United States alone, the industry is expected to be worth nearly $60 billion by 2030. Fast fashion giants such as Shein, Temu and H&M churn out new products every few weeks, their websites and physical stores constantly updating styles and offerings. Their low prices, some starting at just $3, make it even easier to justify a purchase. 

Besides being inexpensive, the popularity of e-commerce has also facilitated the growth of fast fashion. Being able to purchase items from anywhere in the world, with just a few clicks or taps, has made shopping an everyday event rather than a special occasion. Many end up with items they don’t need or will never use, but bought on a whim.

“An entire generation today does not choose from what they can find, but either discover things that they never knew they wanted or search for what they want without knowing how to explain it,” said Joanna Williams, the CEO of Since Tomorrow, an online retail and fashion platform. 

The short lifespan of fashion cycles spurs this desire to own the newest clothes. So-called ‘microtrends’ – fleeting, viral trends on social media that last only weeks – lead to a fear of missing out on what’s hottest. Research shows that some consumers visit fast fashion stores like Zara as much as once every three weeks. Companies capitalize on this by setting purposely low prices and promising short delivery times. Without the hassle of waiting or having to save up money, consumers are incentivized to purchase.

Not only does this type of impulse-buying harm consumers’ wallets and closet space, but it has global ramifications. Most clothes are made of cheap, oil-based materials such as polyester. Producing these fabrics requires fossil fuels, and they never biodegrade; in fact, 92 million tons of textiles end up in landfills. Fashion production itself makes up 10% of all carbon emissions, and its environmental impact will only continue. 

The cost of fast fashion is social as well. Workers in garment factories toil for little pay – sometimes as little as four cents per item – and in dangerous conditions. Buildings have no ventilation, and workers are often denied breaks in order to fulfill brand deadlines. Child labor is also common in countries such as Argentina, Indonesia, and Bangladesh. As companies continue to benefit from tax breaks and lax regulations, cheap clothing comes at the expense of human welfare. 

The increasingly popular solution to fast fashion is, aptly named, slow fashion. This movement advocates for mindful purchasing and buying fewer pieces, as well as shopping at sustainable brands within the industry.

“By shopping slower and with purpose, you will find yourself accumulating pieces you will often wear for years,” said George Graham, the CEO of a global marketplace for independent ethical brands.   

Secondhand stores such as ThredUp and Depop, which allow people to buy and sell used clothing, have also attracted customers. Globally, the secondhand market is expected to be worth $350 billion by 2030. By encouraging consumers to think before they purchase, these alternatives combat the mindless consumerism associated with fast fashion. 

Chances are, when breaking news occurs, the first notification you receive is through social media. Rather than spending hours flipping through a Sunday newspaper, readers can consume online news stories in half the time. After COVID-19, the demand for real-time news updates skyrocketed; as a result, publishers such as the BBC and the Guardian turned to live-feed reporting to keep users engaged. The rise of short-form content – news stories condensed into 30-second videos – has cultivated an atmosphere that prioritizes likes and clicks over quality. 

Research by Northwestern University has shown that the United States has lost more than a fourth of its newspapers since 2005, closing at a rate of two per week. Stories that take more than a few minutes to read are passed over in favor of dramatic, easy-to-digest blurbs. Content creators are incentivized to use controversial headlines to catch readers’ attention. The well-known ‘three-second rule’ of Instagram says that a video has three seconds to hook users before they scroll away. Studies found that social media posts using negative language are rewarded with more views, which has serious implications for users’ mental health. Not only that, but such content often generalizes or oversimplifies issues in order to stay under the time limit. Complex topics such as climate change or a conflict between nations are impossible to reduce to a thirty-second recap. But now, any ‘story’ with the right graphics, humor, and sound effects can become viral. 

This development has an increasingly negative impact on mental health, especially that of younger generations. Dr. Gloria Mark, a psychologist, explained that the attention span of humans has shrunk to just 47 seconds – down from two and a half minutes in 2004. Becoming used to shorter forms of content can make people unwilling to devote time to longer articles or in-depth reporting. Combined with the fact that online news often prioritizes the most enraging or upsetting stories, more and more people are turning away from consuming news at all. 

Of course, there are benefits to social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok becoming sources of news. For one, it increases exposure to issues that local news sources may not cover. By reaching a wider audience than certain papers ever could, positive movements on social media such as Black Lives Matter and #MeToo can quickly gain momentum. 

Despite these upsides, becoming reliant on social media platforms for news can normalize dangerous practices such as sensationalism and misinformation. The next time a story goes viral on Instagram Reels or YouTube Shorts, take its validity with a grain of salt. 

There’s something about diners that today’s chain restaurants fail to embody. 

Some of my earliest restaurant experiences were at Ponzio’s Diner. Walking in to the smell of the carpet and the sway of some of the creaky, old chairs is far engrained in my memory. While waiting to be seated in the often crowded dining room, I remember staring through the display cases, pondering which of the many delicious baked goods I would order for dessert (though, more often than not I would just get a cupcake decorated to look like Elmo). Above all, I remember the staff. The person serving my family always spoke with an air of familiarity. It was as if they had known us for years, commenting on how I and my siblings appeared to be growing.

To me, diners represent the perfect style of restaurant. When I say diner, I mean a typically small, local, fast-casual restaurant that is usually a family business. Key characteristics of a diner are a nostalgic atmosphere, simplistic concept, and a hospitable environment. Think jukeboxes and booths beside elongated counters. But the restaurants I describe are dying. Since 2022, Collingswood Diner, Starview Diner, Voorhees Diner, Diamond Diner, Red Lion Diner, Cherry Hill Diner, Penn Queen Diner, Marlton Diner, and Mastoris Diner have closed in and around the Cherry Hill area. In the past decade, as many as 150 diners have shut down in New Jersey alone, and many more have closed throughout the country. What was once an American staple is now struggling to survive.

What I believe ultimately sets diners apart from modern restaurants is their homey feel. I can’t eat at a McDonald’s without sensing a sort of hostility emanating from the bright ordering screens and massive posters advertising their products all over the place. While the staff in a diner talks to me like distant relatives, I don’t expect much from the workers at my local Dunkin’ besides the shout of my order number.

The main reason for diners dying out is inflation. Diners traditionally serve mid-priced, breakfast or lunch foods including staples such as pancakes, waffles, toast, and, of course, an extensive selection of egg dishes. Inflation forces diners into a tricky situation. They can either raise their prices, sacrificing the intrigue of mid-priced meals, or keep their prices and lose profit. While all restaurants fall victim to inflated prices, diners are especially susceptible. Due to their small scale, diners have little negotiating power with suppliers, and the generally high cost of operating a diner means they already have small profit margins. Inflation has decayed diners’ customer base and profit margins over time, causing them to eventually become unprofitable and shut down. 

I believe that there are various cultural reasons for diners failing in addition to inflation. Today, people tend to have more advanced palates than they did in the 60s during the golden age of diners. Those who choose to eat at sit-down restaurants as opposed to fast food will usually choose to go somewhere that caters to more advanced tastes. If you’re going to take time out of your day to go to a full service restaurant, why would you choose to go to the place that serves eggs when you could go somewhere more specialized, exotic, or “trendy?” 

Additionally, I believe that today, people put more emphasis on doing things quickly, which may exclude sitting down for a meal. Less people are willing to sit down, flag a server, order a plate of eggs, then wait for it to be cooked when it takes two minutes to get a burrito bowl from Pancheros. Fast food is to diners what Tiktok and Reels are to traditional long-form media— the preferred medium of a society who increasingly demands their dopamine hit as soon as possible. Sure—one can get higher quality food and service from diners, but why choose that over instantly gratifying fast-food?