Has the world collapsed with “Skibidi Toilet?” This phrase, along with many others, has become a language staple in the ever–evolving slang of today’s youth.
Social media platforms like TikTok and Instagram have fueled the rise of this strange and seemingly meaningless lexicon tied to Gen Alpha. Whether used ironically or sincerely, there’s no denying the omnipresence of these jarring terms. Words like “gyatt,” “rizzler,” and “fanum tax” have become defining features of Gen Alpha’s cultural identity, and, to an extent, Gen Z as well. Collectively, these terms fall under the umbrella of “brainrot,” a slang category coined by social media users in the post–COVID era.
What makes brainrot different?
Generational slang is nothing new. Disparities in language have long served as markers of generational identity. For example, Gen Z’s “cap” and “delulu” seem foreign to Gen X, and Gen Z’ers might cringe when their parents reminisce about “gnarly” and “taking a chill pill.” Historically, this linguistic gap has been a natural part of generational evolution for centuries. In the novel case of Gen Alpha terminology, however, social media has accelerated the mass dissemination of “brainrotted” language. Unlike Gen Z's slang—which emerged in an era when people were still learning to navigate online platforms—brainrot surfaced in a more developed social media landscape, dominated by hyper–condensed content thanks to digital applications like Instagram reels and TikTok’s short–form video format. As a result, brainrot is less about clever wordplay and more about the rapid, meme–driven evolution language that thrives on culturally niche, obscure, and ever–shifting references.
The phrase Skibidi Toilet, for example, originates from a machinima video series created by self–taught animator Alexey Gerasimo on his YouTube channel, DaFuq!?Boom!. The series consists of short, low–quality videos depicting the warfare between the titular Skibidi Toilets (human–headed toilets) and unnamed humanoid figures with electronic devices for heads. Collectively, this series has garnered over 17 billion views, peaking at 2.9 billion views in both April and May of 2023. This surpassed the views of the world’s most popular YouTuber at the time MrBeast. The reasons behind the series' immense popularity with younger audiences remain a mystery. However, such speculation may be futile, given the unpredictable nature of viral memes in the first place—like the recent resurgence of “That Feeling When Knee Surgery is Tomorrow.”
Despite its vacancy in meaning, Skibidi Toilet became a cultural watershed moment for the formation of Gen Alpha’s distinct cultural identity—an identity that has also tainted the vocabularies of Gen Z.
I often find myself doomscrolling for hours on Instagram reels—a primary hub for brainrot content. Deadlines become secondary and time is at the mercy of my algorithm. I’ve crammed countless midterms, fell behind on art commissions, and spent far more time than necessary on assignments because I couldn’t resist the instant dopamine hit of scrolling to the next reel. I sometimes take out my phone on those intermediary walks between classes on campus. Scrolling is usually the last thing I do before bed and the first thing I do when I wake up, even if just for a brief couple of minutes. I’m hooked on short–form entertainment, finding its low–quality videos strangely hysterical—all at the expense of my attention span. This is the alleged effect of brain rot consumption: mental lethargy and cognitive decline caused by excessive screen time. The term’s meaning is quite literal—“the rotting of the brain.”
The proliferation of digital media use, amplified by the oversaturation of brainrot content in mainstream media, is raising significant concerns about the academic performance of Gen Z students nationwide.
In a Street poll of 60+ Penn students, 45% reported they spent 1–2 hours and 33% reported they spent 3–4 hours daily on social media alone.
Over 80% of respondents reported that brainrot content regularly appears on their social media feeds. This implicates brainrot with the potentially dangerous effects of social media on the brain.
Social media consumption also seems to negatively impact students’ ability to focus on academic tasks (readings, problem sets, study sessions, etc.), with only 10% stating it rarely or never does.
A significant majority (74%) reported being unable to focus during lectures for more than 20–30 minutes without zoning out or checking their phones. Among these, 42% struggle to maintain attention for more than 20–30 minutes, 25% for 10–15 minutes, and 7% for as little as 5 minutes.
When asked about the impact of social media on academic performance, 53% noted it slightly worsened their outcomes, while 28% reported no effect.
It’s worth noting that 60~ students is not representative of the entire Penn student population nor undergraduate Gen Z students across the U.S. Still, this data suggests a correlation between social media consumption and a slight decline in academic performance for some Penn undergraduates, though this varies by individual. A stronger link emerges between social media use and decreased attention spans, echoing broader trends in cognitive shifts over the past two decades. According to a recent Microsoft statistical report, the average attention span of a U.S. adult has dropped from 12 seconds in 2000 to just 8 seconds today—shorter than the attention span of a goldfish, which averages 9 seconds. This decline is attributed to the rise of digital devices and the overwhelming influx of information available online.
Is this the endgame of Skibidi Toilet? While it remains inconclusive whether social media and brainrot definitively harm academic performance, their impact on communication is undeniable. The integration of slang into everyday language is normative. However, when much of this language becomes fragmented, hyper–niche, and devoid of meaning, it starts to resemble noise rather than conversation. Brainrot has become a surrogate for dialogue, threatening our ability to critically and emotionally engage with the world and others. We still may humor this language, but the question remains: how far is too far?
While it’s easy to point the finger at social media, it’s not realistic—or fair—to entirely villainize the phone. Social media is social currency—it’s how we keep up with the latest trends, hottest items, and newest pop culture developments. However, the troubling aspect is how brainrot content represents the extreme end of this spectrum—a space where instant gratification overshadows substance, and unproductive media consumption takes precedence over meaningful interaction. The question we must ask ourselves is why these absurd, low–quality trends like Skibidi Toilet go viral in the first place. Perhaps they provide a brief escape from the pressures of everyday life—a way to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Yet, what begins as momentary distractions can quickly diminish opportunities for critical thought, if we let it.
Social media has the power to both connect and distract; the responsibility lies with its users. The solution isn’t to abandon our phones but to find balance. This means setting boundaries, seeking out content that brings value, and understanding how our online habits shape our offline lives. As for brainrot? It can’t be the norm. If we continue to consume content without reflecting on why it resonates with us, we lose the ability to engage with the world around us—and the productive things the Internet has to offer. The challenge is to respond to the new trends of the digital age without letting them numb us to this brainrotted default. We must reclaim purposeful conversation and consumption, even if it starts with questioning why we still say “Skibidi Toilet.”
