(Or At Least Keep You From Screaming Into the Void)
Let’s just get this out of the way: I’m not claiming cat videos will cure late-stage capitalism, reverse climate collapse, or make your landlord return your security deposit. But if we’re all going to emotionally survive this flaming Jenga tower of global crises, we might owe a surprising debt to a blurry orange tabby somersaulting off a countertop.
Cat Videos: The Emotional Equivalent of Emergency Chocolate
In 2015, researcher Jessica Gall Myrick surveyed nearly 7,000 people about their cat video habits. The takeaway? Watching cat videos made people feel more energetic, happier, and significantly less anxious, annoyed, and soul-crushed by existence. And yes—even when they were “supposed” to be working. That’s right: procrastination with paws comes with mood-boosting side effects. (Source)
Cat videos are essentially serotonin-flavored espresso shots. Just one clip of a kitten karate-chopping a houseplant can jolt your nervous system into temporary joy. No side effects, no insurance deductible, no awkward small talk with a therapist who still uses dial-up.
Digital Pet Therapy: They’ll Never Pee on Your Rug
Myrick coined the term digital pet therapy, and honestly? She deserves a Nobel Prize in Sanity Preservation.
Science has long confirmed that pets can reduce stress, lower heart rates, and make life slightly less unbearable. But not everyone can have a pet—because allergies, apartments, and the occasional existential crisis. Enter: Internet Cats. They’re free. They’re adorable. And unlike your ex, they never gaslight you about knocking things off shelves.
Research shows that watching cat content actually beats music, inspirational quotes, and TED Talks when it comes to elevating your mood. That’s right. A blurry potato-shaped kitten chasing a laser pointer might just outshine your favorite productivity guru. (Source)
Pandemic-Proof Joy: Strategic Screaming Prevention
During COVID, researchers noticed something wild: people started using media like medicine, intentionally watching videos to regulate their emotional states. And guess what topped the emotional prescription list? Yep. Cat videos. Fluffy chaos as an act of resistance.
They weren’t just distractions—they were psychological life vests. Each whisker-twitch became a micro-dose of control and joy in a world unraveling faster than a cat on catnip in a yarn store. (Source)
Cats: The Existential Gurus We Didn’t Know We Needed
Let’s zoom out for a second. Cultural critics (yes, that’s a real job) argue that part of what makes cats so compelling online is their total indifference to human validation. They’re chaotic, weird, gloriously authentic, and they never apologize for any of it.
In a society obsessed with performative productivity and curated perfection, watching a cat yeet itself into a cereal box feels like a quiet rebellion. They’re living Dadaist art. We’re just lucky enough to witness it.
Guilt Is Useless. Joy Isn’t.
Sure, some of you may feel mild guilt for falling down a 45-minute cat video rabbit hole. But unless your boss is literally a tabby in a business suit, let it go. This isn’t wasted time. This is psychic first aid.
Joy is not frivolous. In a world that profits off your burnout, joy is resistance.
Final Thought: When the Apocalypse Comes, Bring Snacks and a Cat Video
No, cat videos won’t fix the economy or replace your therapist. But they just might give your brain the two-minute breather it needs to not implode. And in this flaming carnival ride we call modern life, that’s no small thing.
So watch the cat in the shark costume riding a Roomba. Laugh. Breathe. Keep going.
That might be the most revolutionary act you commit today.
