The Algorithm Is Messing With Parental Support
Why the most terrifying parenting advice goes viral, and why real expertise rarely fits in a soundbite.
It’s 10PM. The house is finally quiet (hopefully). You’re exhausted, but your brain won’t shut off. You pick up your phone for a quick scroll to decompress. Within seconds, a reel pops up. A confident “expert” stares intensely into the camera, bold text flashing over their face: “Are you making these THREE mistakes that ruin your child’s attachment forever?” or “The toxic ingredient in your toddler’s snack cabinet.”
Your heart rate jumps. You click. You spiral.
They capture your attention because they are hitting you at your most vulnerable. I sometimes struggle when I post because I am certain that the more extreme I sound, the more appealing my reel will be and the more eyeballs will see it. I’m also a mom, so occasionally those extreme reels get to me, but I have the soothing benefit of having the developmental psychologist brain that knows darn well the delivery is extreme but the truth rarely is. The part of me that spends hours, days and years pouring over actual peer-reviewed research and working with real, messy, wonderful families gives me a bit of a soothing gift. And that part of my brain knows a dirty secret about the online parenting world: The more terrified you are, the richer the algorithm gets.
Here is the truth about why your feed feels so alarming, and why you need to take the loudest so-called “expert” voices with a massive grain of salt. I say this because I see the responses when I post a dramatic quote, or a controversial episode. It’s rare but when I do, I feel the enormous gap between that style of communicating and my typical style. Yet, I feel the pressure to get views and sell books, too! And while most of what I have to say is too relieving to be exciting, I know that scary content sells while contributing to parental distress. This is the dilemma that anyone in my profession faces if they want to reach a large audience: The more certain, specific and scary the content, the more people will see it, and still that very approach means undermining the people I want to serve most.
The economy of fear
Social media platforms are not public health services (though they can be done in such a way that they serve) and ultimately most have the primary goal of keeping your eyes on the screen for as long as humanly possible. That brings us to the sad truth about what keeps humans engaged. High-arousal emotions. Fear, anger, and shock are the most potent fuel for engagement. When a post makes you feel panicked about your child’s safety or future, you stop scrolling on to other things. You go back. You watch it twice. You send it to your partner. You comment and ask a clarifying question. Every one of those actions signals to the algorithm: “This is good stuff. Show it to more people.”
If I post a video saying, “Hey, potty training is tough, it takes time, and there isn’t one way to do it,” it might get a few polite likes. It’s pleasant, but it isn’t going viral. If another expert posts a video saying, “Potty training too quickly will traumatize your child and cause lifelong anxiety!” it will explode. It’s terrifying, it’s absolute, and it demands attention.
Experts on social media know this game. Many feel pressured to adopt “hot takes,” use polarizing language, or present extreme outliers as common occurrences just to be seen above the noise. They trade nuance for visibility. Because the truth rarely fits in a reel.
I’ve spent my career studying human development. Do you know what the overwhelming conclusion of almost all psychological research is? It depends. It depends on the child’s temperament. It depends on the parents’ resources. It depends on culture, environment, genetics, and timing. Real science is slow, cautious, and full of caveats. It rarely offers black-and-white answers. It offers probabilities and trends, all of which have exceptions.
Take one of the hottest examples, screen time. The social media soundbite: “Screen time before age two causes ADHD.” The scientific reality? Excessive screen time in very young children is generally not recommended because it displaces crucial real-world interactions, and may increase risk of ADHD in some kids, but the research on causality with ADHD is complex, ongoing, and involves genetic predispositions and environmental factors. A fifteen-minute Facetime with Grandma is not breaking your baby’s brain. A Bluey episode when they are sick didn’t cause any lifelong damage. There is nothing to panic over. But the reality takes three sentences to explain and isn’t scary at all. It doesn’t fit neatly onto an Instagram tile. But the soundbite is catchy, terrifying, and highly shareable.
The other factor to consider is that the more deeply you understand a subject, the harder it is to turn it into a generalized 90-second video. True expertise requires acknowledging the gray areas. This creates a massive tension for those of us in the field who want to share helpful information online. It is a constant push and pull.
We want to reach you. We want to offer good, evidence-based support. But we know that if we are too moderate, too balanced, or too nuanced, the algorithm will bury our content. We are constantly tempted to sharpen our titles and turn up the volume just to get in front of your eyeballs. What are we to do (no really, tell me!)?
The creators who win the algorithm game are often those willing to speak in absolutes: “Never do X,” “Always do Y,” “This is the ONLY way.” But as a psychologist, I can tell you that rigid absolutes are rarely healthy in parenting. Rigidity breeds temporary relief because it feels certain, but it also fuels anxiety. Flexibility is more highly linked with positive adaptation (it breeds resilience).
So, how do you protect your peace of mind while navigating this digital minefield?
1. Be skeptical of certainty. If an online expert is 100% certain that their way is the only way, unfollow or flag as questionable. True experts speak with humility and acknowledge different approaches.
2. Look for the “why.” Are they trying to scare you into buying their course, supplement, or PDF guide? Fear is a fantastic sales tactic.
3. Moderate voices are usually the most accurate. Seek out experts who use words like “sometimes,” “often,” “it depends,” and “generally.” They might not have the flashiest content, but their advice is likely grounded in reality rather than performance.
4. Trust your own data. You are the world’s leading expert on your specific child. No influencer or PhD knows your toddler’s temperament better than you do. If advice feels wrong for your family, it probably is.
Parenting is hard enough without a Greek chorus of internet strangers telling you you’re doing it wrong. It’s okay to mute the panic. It’s okay to embrace the boring, messy, gray reality of raising good humans. Your kids don’t need a perfect parent sculpted by Instagram algorithms; they just need “good enough,” calm, connected you.
And finally, if you liked this article please share it with every human you’ve ever met and keep going. Afterall, we’ve got an algorithm to train.





Great points throughout the newsletter. It’s such a problem that I see in my own private practice. Thank you for what you put out in the world.
Excellent advice.
Clear, calm, real, enlightening advice.
Very useful.