The day often ends with one last check of Instagram, a few minutes on YouTube or a scroll through messages before sleep. But what begins as a brief digital break can stretch late into the night, delaying bedtime and keeping the mind engaged when it should be winding down. Researchers are increasingly investigating whether this pattern of digital exposure, through its effects on sleep, may contribute to anxiety and other mental health difficulties among young people.

As World Mental Health Day is observed on October 10, emerging evidence suggests that the relationship between digital media and psychological well-being may depend not simply on how long people spend online, but also on when and how they use it.

A scoping review published in Computers in Human Behavior Reports in March 2026 examined longitudinal research on social media use and sleep among young people. The review found that approximately 70% of the longitudinal studies examined reported at least one negative association between social media use and sleep outcomes. The most consistent links involved later bedtimes and longer periods spent trying to fall asleep, particularly among those with problematic social media habits or who used platforms at bedtime.

The findings are significant because longitudinal studies track participants over time, helping researchers investigate whether digital habits precede subsequent changes in sleep. However, the authors cautioned that many studies relied on self-reported screen use and sleep patterns, limiting the strength of conclusions about cause and effect.

The review also identified an important distinction: total screen time alone did not consistently predict poor sleep. The timing of use and difficulty controlling online behaviour appeared to matter.

When sleep becomes the missing link

Sleep may help explain why certain patterns of digital engagement are associated with poorer mental health. Notifications, emotionally charged content and the pressure to respond immediately can keep users mentally alert. Scrolling in bed can also displace time that would otherwise be spent sleeping.

Insufficient or disrupted sleep can affect emotional regulation, concentration and the ability to manage everyday stress. For someone already experiencing anxiety, a poor night’s sleep may make worries more difficult to manage the following day. Repeated sleep disruption may then reinforce a cycle of distress and further digital engagement.

A systematic review and meta-analysis published in the Journal of Affective Disorders in December 2024 provides a broader picture of this relationship. Researchers assessed 182 studies involving 1,169,396 participants, with 98 studies and 102,683 participants included in the meta-analyses.

Representational image.Image credit:Pexels

The researchers found small but statistically significant associations between general social media use and anxiety and depression. Problematic social media use showed associations with anxiety, depression and sleep problems, alongside lower well-being. Importantly, ordinary social media use was not consistently associated with sleep problems or sleep duration, whereas problematic use was associated with sleep difficulties.

The relationship may also operate in both directions. People who struggle to sleep or experience anxiety may turn to their phones for distraction, reassurance or social connection. This can make it difficult to determine whether digital habits contribute to distress, whether distress encourages more digital engagement, or whether both are influenced by other factors.

Beyond the screen-time debate

The findings raise questions for families, schools, technology companies and public-health professionals. Advising young people to reduce screen time may be insufficient if it does not address bedtime habits, compulsive checking, online pressures and the reasons they turn to digital platforms in the first place.

Digital platforms can also provide friendship, information and mental health support. The challenge is to distinguish beneficial engagement from patterns that disrupt rest and emotional well-being.

As research advances, scientists will need to examine not only how much time young people spend online, but also what they experience there and how digital habits interact with sleep and existing vulnerabilities. The question is no longer simply whether people spend too much time on their phones. It is whether constant connectivity leaves enough room for the rest, recovery and emotional balance that mental health requires.

The MIT sociologist’s new book argues that talking to machines wears down the skills we need to live with each other, and that this starts in the nursery.

Sherry Turkle asked ChatGPT to play her mother. She had already fed it her own memoir, which describes a strained relationship with a woman who died in 1968. The chatbot obliged. Turkle describes the result in her new book as seductive and disturbing, and she comes away convinced that bringing the dead back as chatbots is dangerous: “playing with fire”, she writes.

The episode sits in Artificial Intimacy: Who We Become When We Talk to Machines, published by Little, Brown, which runs to 288 pages and sells in the US at $32. It is the fullest statement yet from one of the best-known critics of digital life. Turkle holds the Abby Rockefeller Mauzé chair in the social studies of science and technology at MIT. She trained as a sociologist and as a clinical psychologist. Her view is that heavy chatbot use does harm at every stage of life, from toddlerhood to old age and bereavement.

A career spent on one question

Turkle has been asking what machines do to the people who use them for four decades. The Second Self (1984) and Life on the Screen were early studies of how computers shape identity. Alone Together (2011) looked at social media and social robots, and Reclaiming Conversation (2015) at what phones and texting have done to talk. In 2021 she published a memoir, The Empathy Diaries, which is where the material about her mother comes from.

According to MIT News, she describes her subject as the inner history of technology, meaning not only what a device does but what it does to the person using it. This book applies that approach to chatbots, and it is her most alarmed.

The argument, stage by stage

Unless stated otherwise, Turkle’s remarks and the accounts of the people she interviewed come from material released by MIT. EdPublica did not interview her for this article.

The book is built around the stages of a life, and each section is driven by interviews.

Artificial intimacy, children and attachment

With children, Turkle reports a blurring of categories. One eight-year-old uses the same phone to speak to grandparents and to ChatGPT and files both as things you reach on a phone. A graduate student who uses a chatbot to tell her young daughter bedtime stories says the girl believes there is a person inside the phone. Turkle’s worry is partly about trust, since a device that can state falsehoods without knowing it cannot teach a child what trust is. It is also about solitude. Time alone, she argues, is where children build imagination and a sense of self, and a companion that is always available takes that time away. She calls the stakes for child development existential.

Adults appear as people who started with a practical use and drifted. They include people going through divorce or estrangement who want someone to talk to, students asking for advice on applying to university, and workers who hand assignments to a chatbot. One of her subjects, a middle-aged financial consultant she calls Brian (not his real name), keeps a chatbot with a woman’s name open on a third screen. After a partner ended their relationship, saying he was emotionally unavailable, he put the accusation to the chatbot and asked whether she was right. Turkle’s reading is that he was asking a program with no feelings to rule on feelings.

Her objection is simple to state. A chatbot, she says, produces a performance of empathy. It will tell you it loves you, and it has no stake in whether you hurt yourself or make dinner. People who mistake that performance for the real thing, she argues, begin to find actual people disappointing. Spouses and friends make demands, and the machine only flatters. “We’re starting to define being human as not doing the work,” Turkle said in the MIT material.

On grief, she is blunt. Rebuilding a dead parent or partner as a chatbot, which several people in her book have tried, risks weakening the ability to mourn.

Why people turn to chatbots

Reviewers have noted that Turkle does not treat users as fools. A good part of the book is spent on why the appeal is real. A chatbot gives full attention, never tires, and agrees with you. It spares you the risk of asking someone out or finding the words for a condolence. In her telling, the technology keeps offering to make the harder thing unnecessary, and people keep accepting.

She also admits that some of the demand is a result of a failed supply. Mental health care is hard to reach in the US, and the MIT material says she cites a federal study suggesting only about half of people have access to it. Chatbots are filling the gap, she says, for better or worse. She adds a pointed observation about the industry’s logic: social media thinned out people’s friendships, and chatbots are now sold as the remedy.

The book does not avoid the worst outcomes. Chatbots have been linked to teenagers’ deaths by suicide, in cases that followed long exchanges with chat tools, and Turkle treats these as part of the evidence.

What she wants instead

Her remedy is more cultural than technical. She wants readers to accept that life contains friction and that this is fine. Disagreement, embarrassment and waiting are, in her account, how people learn to cope, and an environment built to remove them leaves people less able to cope. She hopes for a social movement along the lines of the ones against phones in schools and unrestricted social media for the young, and says she would like to be part of it, not alone in it.

She is explicit about her readership. She wanted something that college students and high school seniors could read, and that parents and teachers would not find intimidating. The line she keeps returning to is a question: if the alternative to a richer life in the real world is not clear, what is the point of the exercise?

For the youngest children she is at her most severe. A parent worried that a teenager texts too much is in one kind of conversation, she says. A toddler who thinks a plush toy with a chatbot inside is their best friend is in another, because that touches the foundations of how a person learns to attach. Social media, in her phrase, came for attention, and chatbots come for attachment.

How the book has been received

Publishers’ blurbs have come from Jonathan Haidt, the psychologist behind The Anxious Generation, from former US Surgeon General Vivek Murthy, the author Esther Perel and the philosopher Michael Sandel, among others. Trade reviews have been favourable. Publishers Weekly called it a pointed critique and said it deserved a wide readership, and Kirkus described it as a strong case for resisting the urge to substitute AI for human bonds.

The reservations are of a different kind. Some readers say the book leans on anecdote, and a reviewer for a Christian publication, otherwise admiring, felt a dimension was missing. The method matters here. Turkle is a clinician and an interviewer, and her evidence is case studies and conversations, not controlled trials. That makes the book vivid and persuasive in its details. It also means the question of how common these outcomes are, and whether any chatbot use is benign or helpful, is left largely open. Readers who want the other side of the argument, including from the companies that make these products, will not find it here.

Researchers monitored 27 commercial gas kitchens in California, Pennsylvania and New York. The three all-electric kitchens stayed inside every limit. Gas pilot lights left burning overnight pushed some readings above what the same kitchens recorded during service.

Researchers attached a temperature monitor to a chef’s shoulder during a cooking session of roughly five hours. The average reading was 92°F (33°C). At its peak it touched 106°F (41°C).

One chef on one shift is a small sample, and the scientists treated it that way. But it sits inside a larger study, published on 6 October, that comes to an uncomfortable conclusion for the restaurant trade. In about seven out of ten commercial kitchens that cook with gas or propane, workers were exposed to air pollution, heat, or both at levels above health-based guidelines. The kitchens that cooked only with electricity did not cross a single line.

Gas Kitchens Can Reach Extreme Heat During Service

The paper, “Combustion-Derived Air Pollution and Heat from Gas-fired Appliances in Commercial Kitchens Can Exceed Health-Based Guidelines”, comes from researchers at PSE Healthy Energy, the Stanford Doerr School of Sustainability and New York University’s Grossman School of Medicine, working with chef Christopher Galarza. It was published in Environmental Research Letters. The team says it is the first US study to compare gas, propane and all-electric commercial kitchens under real working conditions.

What was measured

The team monitored 27 kitchens in California, Pennsylvania and New York. Twenty-one cooked with natural gas, three with propane and three were all-electric. Instruments recorded nitrogen dioxide, benzene, carbon monoxide, carbon dioxide, methane and air temperature at locations where staff actually work. Readings were taken during service and again overnight, when the kitchens were closed.

The kitchens volunteered. PSE recruited restaurants, cafés, hotels and similar sites through a public sign-up, with a preference for full-service kitchens that had commercial ventilation hoods. Galarza recruited most of the participating kitchens himself.

The air

Nitrogen dioxide is a by-product of burning fuel. It inflames the airways and raises the risk of asthma. During cooking hours, the hourly average measured outside the hood systems was above the US Environmental Protection Agency’s one-hour standard of 100 parts per billion in 17 of the 24 gas and propane kitchens.

That benchmark was written for outdoor air, not for workplaces, and the researchers use it as a health-based yardstick. The occupational comparison is starker. In one kitchen, a 15-minute average went above 1,000 parts per billion, the short-term workplace limit recommended by the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health.

Other pollutants also crossed lines. Carbon monoxide went over California’s one-hour guideline of 20 parts per million in three gas kitchens. Benzene, a known human carcinogen, went over California’s one-hour guideline of 8.4 parts per billion in five.

The findings bear on a common assumption, that a good hood solves the problem. The hoods helped, according to the study, which says they reduced pollutant exposure but did not remove it. At worker-relevant locations in roughly two-thirds to seven-tenths of the gas-fired kitchens, concentrations still went over health benchmarks.

The heat

Temperature was recorded in 19 of the gas kitchens. In 13 of them, or about 68 per cent, readings went above 90°F (32°C). That is the high-heat trigger in the heat rule OSHA, the US workplace safety regulator, proposed in 2024, and the level at which California’s indoor heat illness regulations apply. Ten kitchens recorded a maximum above 100°F (37°C), and four went past 122°F (50°C).

Weather was not the explanation. On days when the outdoor temperature stayed under 75°F (23°C), 10 of 13 gas kitchens still went over 90°F indoors. The researchers conclude that the heat comes mainly from the cooking equipment.

Yannai Kashtan, the lead author and an air quality scientist at PSE, told Stateline that nothing here will surprise anyone who has worked a line, since cooks already know these are “intense environments full of heat and pollution.” What the study adds is measurement. He pointed to the physics: a gas flame transfers only part of its heat to the pan, and the rest goes into the room.

Only two all-electric kitchens had temperature data. Both recorded some of the lowest in-service temperatures in the whole study, two of the three lowest. Two is too few to build an estimate on, and the authors do not claim otherwise.

Pilot lights overnight

The overnight finding may be the most unexpected. In about seven in ten of the gas kitchens monitored after closing, levels of nitrogen dioxide, carbon monoxide, carbon dioxide, methane and benzene were higher overnight than during service. Ventilation was switched off, and the pilot lights stayed lit. Seven kitchens went above the 100 parts per billion nitrogen dioxide mark during off-work hours.

Drew Michanowicz, a principal scientist at PSE and a co-author, said some of the highest indoor levels the team recorded came “when no one was cooking at all.” That matters for cleaning crews and for staff who arrive early to open up. He added that the same kind of commercial appliances are used in schools, hospitals and mixed-use buildings, so the exposure probably extends well beyond restaurants. The study did not measure those buildings.

None of the all-electric kitchens exceeded a pollutant threshold at any hour, day or night.

Who is affected

The US restaurant and food service industry employs an estimated 15.7 million people. About five million of them spend all of their working hours in the kitchen.

Galarza, who is a co-author as well as the person who found most of the kitchens, told Canary Media the results show “what it is we’re exposing ourselves to.” In the release, he said that kitchen staff should not have to accept excessive heat or polluted air as part of the job, and that the study gives owners and chefs better information on what equipment choices mean for the workplace.

Rob Jackson, a Stanford professor of Earth system science and a co-author, said burning gas in a restaurant kitchen is as suspect as burning it at home, and that the all-electric kitchens emitted none of the pollution seen in the gas ones. Jackson directs a Stanford programme called Electrification for Health. PSE ran the work under its Methane + Health Initiative. Readers should know that the authors have a long record of research on the health costs of burning gas indoors. Panama Bartholomy, executive director of the Building Decarbonization Coalition, which promotes electrification, welcomed the results in a statement quoted by Canary Media.

What the study cannot say

The sample is small. Twenty-seven kitchens spread across California, Pennsylvania and New York is a modest number, and only three of them were all-electric. Kitchens that agreed to be monitored may not look like the average restaurant, and the researchers did not select them at random. The study measured air and temperature, not the health of the people working in the kitchens. Whether any of these readings has made someone sick is a separate question that this work does not try to answer.

The yardsticks also come from different places. Some were written for outdoor air, some for one-hour exposures, and one is a recommended workplace limit. They are accepted ways of judging whether air is harmful, but they are not all legal limits that a kitchen would be cited for breaking.

What happens next

OSHA’s proposed heat rule has not been finalised. Legal analysts tracking the rulemaking say it has stalled, and that the Labor Department’s regulatory agenda points to a supplemental proposal in December 2026. Until a federal standard exists, OSHA relies on its general duty clause to cite employers for heat hazards, and a number of states, California among them, enforce their own rules.

For owners, the study points to two things that can be changed: how well the kitchen is ventilated and which fuel the appliances burn. Its authors describe both as the main controllable factors behind the air and heat that workers face.