In the physical world, if your child says something mean to a friend, they see the immediate "ouch" factor. They see the slumped shoulders, the watery eyes, or the angry flush. In the digital world? They see a bubble with some text.

Psychologists call this the Online Disinhibition Effect. Basically, because kids (and let’s be honest, adults) can’t see the physical reaction of the person they’re talking to, their internal filter just... disappears. They aren't necessarily becoming "bad kids" overnight; they’re just operating in a vacuum where the "human" has been replaced by an avatar or a username.

When everything weird or slightly different is labeled "Ohio" or "brain rot," it becomes very easy to dehumanize the person behind the screen. Our job is to bridge that gap.

Ask our chatbot how to explain the "Online Disinhibition Effect" to a middle schooler

If you want to find the frontline of digital kindness, look at your kid's group chats. Whether it’s on iMessage, WhatsApp, or Discord, the group chat is where empathy goes to die.

It starts with "roasting"—which can be harmless fun—but quickly spirals into exclusion. One kid gets left out of a new thread, or everyone starts "ratioing" a friend's hot take. To a 12-year-old, this feels like social death.

Teach your kids the Screenshot Test: Never type anything in a group chat that you wouldn't want screenshotted and shown to your grandma, your teacher, or the person you’re talking about. It’s not just about "not getting caught"—it’s about realizing that digital words are permanent and have real-world weight.

We don't need to lecture kids on kindness if we give them stories and games that let them practice it. Here are some of our top picks that aren't "preachy" but get the job done.

Ages 7+ This is the antidote to toxic gaming. In Sky: Children of the Light, you literally cannot progress without helping others. Communication is limited to musical notes and gestures initially, which forces kids to focus on actions rather than "trash talk." It’s beautiful, it’s calm, and it’s the opposite of a Fortnite lobby.

Ages 12+ This is a unique "game" where the only mechanic is writing and receiving anonymous letters of encouragement. If you’re worried your teen is becoming cynical, this is a great palate cleanser. It’s a safe space to practice being vulnerable and kind to strangers.

Ages 10+ Often called a "cozy management game about dying," Spiritfarer puts the player in the role of a ferrymaster to the deceased. You have to care for your passengers, learn their stories, and eventually say goodbye. It is an emotional powerhouse that teaches deep empathy for others' life experiences.

Ages 9+ While many shows have clear "good vs. evil" tropes, The Dragon Prince excels at showing that everyone is the hero of their own story. It tackles themes of prejudice, sacrifice, and seeing things from the "enemy's" perspective.

Ages 8-12 If your kid hasn't read this yet, it's the gold standard. It follows a boy with a facial deformity entering a mainstream school. The genius of the book is that it switches perspectives, showing how the same events feel to different characters. It’s a masterclass in "walking in someone else's shoes."

Check out our full guide on cozy games that promote mental wellness

At this age, it’s about Foundational Rules.

This is the "danger zone" for digital drama.

It’s about Nuance and Impact.

Sometimes, kids use "brain rot" language—memes, slang like "Skibidi," or "Sigma"—to create an "in-group." While mostly annoying, this can become a tool for exclusion. If your kid is using slang to make someone else feel like an outsider, that's where the empathy conversation needs to happen.

It's not about banning the slang (good luck with that); it's about the intent behind it. Is the meme being used to share a laugh, or to make fun of someone who doesn't "get it"?

Learn more about the latest slang terms parents should know

Don't sit them down for a "Digital Kindness Seminar." It will fail. Instead, use "drive-by parenting":

Digital empathy is a muscle. It gets stronger the more it’s used and atrophies when it’s ignored. We can’t expect our kids to be perfect—they’re going to say something "mid" or "L" at some point. The goal isn't a perfect track record; it's raising a kid who recognizes the human on the other side of the glass.

Check out our guide on the most toxic apps for middle schoolers