Real therapy is about personalised focus, patience and truth. On platforms like Instagram and TikTok, therapy has become content rather than connection. Now, it’s increasingly about clicks. Cliched advice is regularly posted as short, upbeat clips designed to hold attention for a few seconds before the next scroll.
The word “enshittification” perfectly fits this decline as it accurately describes how good things on the internet slowly become worse as algorithms and monetisation dictate their direction and form. The term was coined by the author, Cory Doctorow, to describe the gradual decline in the quality of online platforms and services as they prioritise profits over user experience.
Online, therapy has been rebranded as entertainment. Counsellors, therapists, coaches and influencers post snappy mantras about boundaries, trauma or self-love. Their messages are often well-intentioned but stripped of nuance.
Real therapy is person-centred, private and involves a deep exploration of how people think and feel about themselves. Social media has no patience for that kind of depth. The result is a flood of sing-song slogans and pretty graphics that look and sound empowering but rarely change anything.
“TikTok & Instagram give the impression that people can cure their mental health easily, & when it doesn’t work, they frequently blame themselves & feel even more of a failure.” – Sally Baker, Senior Accredited Therapist
Why Sally Baker is qualified to help
- Senior accredited therapist with over 20 years of experience in working successfully with people who feel broken and stuck.
- Author of The Getting of Resilience from the Inside Out, published by Hammersmith Books.
- Frequent media contributor on emotional health and relationships.
The rise of emotional quick fixes
Therapy showing up on social media feeds began with good intentions. It was to open up conversations about mental health and to help remove the stigma that made people fearful of disclosing their mental health challenges. Nowadays, those good intentions have become a marketplace for emotional platitudes. Advice like “three steps to heal your inner child” or “five ways to stop anxiety” promises transformation with the ease of a recipe. In truth, those messages offer an illusion of progress. You can feel busy with self-improvement while staying safely at the surface.
The online world rewards whoever is loudest and most outspoken. The online world also amplifies simplification, the binary, the seemingly easy solutions. Experienced voices that speak of ‘doing the work’ don’t trend. Therapists who join these spaces often find themselves adjusting their message to fit what performs well with the dominant algorithms. They may start oversharing client stories or simplifying their ideas to stay visible. Over time, therapy turns from a private process into a public performance, and authenticity gives way to the pursuit of engagement.
The cost for clients and professionals
The damage isn’t only to professionals. Many people now arrive in real therapy expecting instant results because they’ve seen emotional breakthroughs happen in a sixty-second clip. When real change takes longer, they assume something is wrong with them. Others skip therapy altogether, convinced they can heal themselves by consuming endless trite posts and curated video clips. The endless self-help rabbit hole can deepen isolation rather than ease it.
There is also the matter of accuracy. Research shows that a large portion of mental health content online contains misinformation. Claims such as “you can release your own trauma ” are seductive but false. Genuine therapeutic work takes commitment, courage and human connection. Just as no one would consider performing dental root canal work on themselves, authentic change happens within the therapeutic relationship. Social media replaces this unique process with catchy soundbites or illustrated mantras, undermining trust and setting people up for disappointment.
How social media reshaped our view of wellbeing
The impact goes deeper than misinformation. Social media has reshaped how we think about mental health itself. On Instagram, wellbeing is an aesthetic. It’s all pale neutrals, expensive candles, tropical plants, and calm, beatific smiles. It suggests that happiness must look serene and photogenic. Ordinary human messiness — anger, fear, grief — doesn’t fit the feed. People begin to believe that anything less than constant calm is failure, which fuels shame and the curse of comparison.
Therapists and clients both lose in this environment. Practitioners feel pressured to be brands, not healers. Clients chase validation rather than change work. What should be a confidential process of self-discovery becomes another form of performance. Therapy’s depth is replaced with superficiality; its integrity traded for visibility.
Reclaiming the heart of real therapy
Yet it doesn’t have to stay this way. Social media can still be used with care. Therapists can speak honestly about the limits of online advice and remind followers that true healing happens in genuine therapeutic relationships. Longer online formats —articles, newsletters, podcasts, and workshops — provide space for complexity and truth to be acknowledged. For anyone who is scrolling, the challenge is to pause and ask whether a post promotes reflection or promises an easy fix.
When therapy is reduced to content, it loses its soul. Real therapy isn’t meant to be consumed — it’s meant to be lived. The value of therapy lies not in how many people see it but in the quiet understanding between two people in a room or over an internet link. Healing is not a performance, a filter, or a hashtag. It’s the slow, unglamorous work of turning towards what hurts and finding meaning there — long after endless scrolling has lost its appeal.
