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As personality tests go, the introversion-extroversion scale has always been a popular way to find one’s tribe. But I remember the book by American writer Susan Cain that seemed to supercharge the introvert revolution – Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking.��

The 2012 global bestseller essentially countered the widely accepted culture in schools and workplaces that prioritised saying something over having something to say.��

It also helped extroverted peers understand the average introvert’s preferences, such as being a homebody and turning down party invites, that might have previously gotten us labelled aloof or unfriendly.

Like my fellow introverts, the ripple effect was initially understated, though it proved a force to be reckoned with eventually.��

Almost overnight, society altered its perception about introverts, vindicating many of us from a lifetime of trauma of being cajoled to “speak up” and “don’t be shy”.

However, this favourable stance appears to have taken on a more sinister slant in the last few years.��

Even worse, it seems like we’re back at Square One – except this time, extroverts are on the receiving end of the judgement. In particular, bed rotting and similar��solo "do nothing" activities are increasingly positioned as radical acts of self-care, especially in cultures that have always extolled productivity.

Bed rotting is the act of staying in bed for extended periods of time doing passive activities that may include��doom-scrolling, snacking or binge-watching TV shows and movies. And its advocates see it as a way to recharge from from work, school or social obligations.��

Concerns around bed rotting are not new, with experts cautioning that an excessive amount of time in bed could point to deeper mental health issues.

The issue now, though, feels more insidious: An air of moral superiority from those who engage in and encourage such solitary behaviour.

HOW SOCIAL MEDIA REINFORCES MORAL JUDGEMENT��

The writer of a viral post titled The Mainstreaming of Loserdom observed the changing ways that a younger generation talks about acceptable recreational behaviour.��

The post highlighted a TikTok video of a woman saying that her favourite place to be was in bed watching shows on her iPad. The majority of the 40,000 comments echoed her sentiment. In another TikTok video, a man said that��staying home was his definition of a good time and that he did not need to go to clubs.��

Relatedly, a viral tweet put this message across: “Weird how ‘living life’ is associated with just stuff extroverts like to do.”

In short, bed rotting is in; partying is out.

�ٰ���Ong Mianli,��a clinical child and adolescent psychologist, told �鶹��ý TODAY that such moral judgements tend to be rampant on social media because “nuance is harder to package into a viral post”.

“Social media thrives on binaries and moral judgements – ‘rest is superior to partying’ or ‘socialising is better than solitude’. This oversimplification creates unnecessary team rivalries,” the principal clinical psychologist in private practice at Lightfull Psychology said.��

In my observation, the COVID-19 pandemic’s spotlight on mental health also fundamentally shifted the cultural zeitgeist around doing things alone, which may have once been touted as “loser” or “friendless” behaviour. Where the book by Susan Cain merely validated such personality traits, they were now seen as desirable.

Also, people in��isolation during the pandemic turned to likeminded groups online, which��led to��social media echo chambers. Many such circles did not just equate prioritising mental health with prioritising solitude, but tried to��normalise and glorify perceived acts of self-care without considering the extremities.

The danger lies in not realising when these simplistic views start becoming harmful, especially when one is “siloed off”, Dr Ong said.

“When everyone is in the same echo chamber saying that rest at all cost is good, it’s easy to mistake silence for safety and isolation for self-care. It’s like wearing sunglasses indoors. We might think we’re protecting ourselves, but we’re just blocking out light that could help us see more clearly.”��

WHEN DOES RESTING BECOME ROTTING?

Even though the pandemic rewired society’s relationship with rest and social interaction, rest is really just “a reprieve from overwhelming stimuli”. It is akin to hitting pause on a movie, Dr Ong said.

“The nuance lies in recognising when this pause becomes permanent, signalling deeper struggles like burnout or disconnection,” he added.��

“Bed rotting risks being misunderstood as inherently restorative for mental health … For some, staying in became a form of safety, but this habit is now lingering in ways that may no longer serve them."

Yet, even when they are aware of the danger in bed rotting, some people may still feel like they are “reclaiming control over life” and “valuing personal comfort and mental peace” by choosing to stay in and opt out of activities, a psychologist cautioned.

Dr Annabelle Chow, principal clinical psychologist at Annabelle Psychology, said that lying in bed is often associated with getting some “me time” after a long day, so it is “easy to underestimate” the effects of bed rotting,

She also stressed that from a psychological perspective, bed rotting is different from “traditional self-care”, primarily because bed rotting��embraces passivity.

The glaring red flags are avoidance and isolation, signalling that rest has turned to rot.��

When bed rotting happens multiple days a week, for instance, it can be seen as a pattern of behaviour that is used by the person to “avoid daily life, difficulties or coping with our emotions”, Dr Chow added.��

“Especially when it starts affecting your ability to keep up with work, family or school obligations, and whether you struggle with basic hygiene. These signs might suggest the presence of depression symptoms, which includes becoming withdrawn from social activities and the inability to meet one’s daily responsibilities.”��

If left unchecked, bed rotting can then unintentionally reinforce that “it is ‘safer’ to avoid the things that we are avoiding”, Dr Chow said.

REST AND CONNECTION ARE NOT ENEMIES

Another obstacle standing in the way of balanced mental health is when you know bed rotting is bad for you but you are still reluctant to get help, especially if you believe that good��mental health and the hallmarks of hustle culture – such as working hard at the expense of self-care – cannot exist together.��

Dr Ong cautioned: “When someone in that echo chamber even thinks about seeking help, it can feel like betraying the very identity they’ve built online – rest as rebellion or self-care as survival. Admitting that struggle feels like admitting defeat, and no one wants to feel like they’ve ‘lost’.”

In the long run, balance is key, though I believe this can be fully achieved only when we learn to recognise social media’s tendency to enhance extreme views.��

“Hustle culture says, ‘Keep going at all costs’, while bed rotting culture says, ‘Do nothing and that’s empowerment.’ But both miss the middle ground of balance,” Dr Ong said.

Rest and connection are not “enemies”, but “complementary tools we need in different measures at different times”, he highlighted.��

“Bed rotting is fine as a temporary refuge from stressful situations, but it can’t become a permanent residence. Rest restores, but it’s action and connection that give life meaning.”

As a fellow introvert who loves socialising, loves meeting new people, loves small talk, but prefers doing things alone and being a homebody, I understand the appeal of bed rotting.

Deeper mental health problems notwithstanding, the trend is, in some ways, about reclaiming an unspoken desire for more solitude that would have been previously judged as anti-social behaviour.

The problem starts when you believe that choosing bed rotting and other versions of alone time makes you a better person who is self-assured enough to buck the norm��–��essentially mistaking preferences for principles.