When Algorithms Collide With Anxiety: A Call for Kindness

I’ve been sitting with something lately: how anxiety collapses our higher thinking. When the nervous system goes into defense mode, abstract thought and self-monitoring slip out of reach. The domino effect is profound — it can change how we interpret the world, and how we act in it.

Here’s a small example from my own life.

Some time ago, a business called The Donut Garage kept appearing on my TikTok and in my Google recommendations. I couldn’t figure out what it was. Was it a café? A garage? A scam? The ads were relentless — no matter how many times I clicked “not interested,” they followed me.

In that overwhelmed state, I left a review saying I didn’t understand what this place was and that I’d never been there. Looking back, I realise I wasn’t reviewing a café at all — I was reacting to an intrusive algorithm.

Fast forward to now: I see their YouTube Shorts and suddenly it clicks. It’s a real café in Marrickville, run by a car enthusiast who built a community space for coffee, donuts, and car events. It’s not a scam, not a trick — just a person doing something they love.

And here I am, realizing I’ve left a negative mark on their page, all because of how my brain reacted in a moment of confusion and anxiety.

This is where the self-monitoring lesson comes in. Anxiety can shrink the world until everything feels like a threat. The higher thinking — the pause, the reflection, the generosity — disappears. But here’s the truth: technology is designed to overwhelm us. Ads that stalk, feeds that won’t let us look away — they hack our brains, and sometimes we snap.

So here’s my reminder, to myself and maybe to you:

• Pause before posting in frustration. Ask, “Am I reacting to the human, or to the machine that put this in front of me?”

• If I do make a mistake (and I will), I can repair it — edit the review, leave a kind word, or simply choose to extend grace next time.

• Remember that on the other side of the screen is usually just another human, trying something, sharing something, building something.

We can’t always control the algorithms. But we can choose kindness, especially in those small everyday moments where our words leave a trace.

Because kindness, too, ripples outward.