In Praise of Escapism:
A Book-In-Progress
It’s 4:00 PM, and I can’t take it anymore. I got up extra early this morning and biked across Washington, D.C., for a majors fair at my university. Then I biked home and spent three hours furiously skimming files for a Zoom meeting that took over two and a half hours. I have half an hour until another online meeting with a graduate student, and then I need to drive through rush hour for dinner with my aunt. If I were a machine, I’d start answering the emails that have been piling up all day or, better yet, start working on my taxes. But I am not, and more than anything, what I want to do is open a window and scream “HELPPPP!!!!!” I don’t, though, because everyone around me is as stressed out as I am. Instead, I turn on Netflix and click on a random episode of Seinfeld. Then I lie on the couch until the last possible moment before I must show up for that student. For 22 blissful minutes, I forget about how overwhelming my life is and let myself be entertained instead.
I am not the only person using vintage sitcoms to keep on keepin’ on. Psychologists say that rewatching helps with “meaning making, identity reinforcement, and emotional regulation”—aka escapism. Escapism means giving yourself a break from stress or a hostile environment with a short-term activity that lets you regroup. Some folks garden or play pickleball. Others doodle, scroll social media, or smoke weed. (I personally rely on running and horror movies.) The activity can be wholesome or self-destructive, productive or pointless; it doesn’t matter. The goal of escapism is to create mental space for yourself.
All my life, I’ve been told to feel ashamed of my escapism, like there’s something morally reprehensible about zoning out. Maybe you too have felt guilty about streaming true crime when you “should be” catching up on the news or calling your mom. Escapist is an elitist dog whistle that tells people not to take something seriously and—by extension—not to take the pleasure people get from it seriously. But there’s no reason to feel bad about needing time to recharge, no matter what the killjoys say.
Scientists don’t know what motivates escapism, but it seems to arise when we feel overwhelmed and thwarted by forces outside our control. Interest in escapism always escalates in times of crisis, including the Great Depression, Watergate, and the past three presidential elections and inaugurations. Climate change, economic instability, and global political volatility have made escapism one of Pinterest’s top three trends to watch in 2026. Yet most press coverage on escapism—including popular pieces in Psychology Today and The New Yorker—assumes that it leads to self-destruction.
I disagree. Escapism is more than just a yearning to check out. It’s a survival strategy for when the world feels organized against you. Practicing escapism helps us resist toxic capitalist ideologies and gives us time to think about the very reasons we seek escape. It encourages us to imagine less needful futures for ourselves and our communities, which is why it’s ultimately an act of worldbuilding. Escapism has saved my career and my relationships more times than I can count. In Praise of Escapism explains how it can save yours, too.
