Why We Keep Scrolling: Infinite Feeds and the Sunk Cost Fallacy

There’s no lie anymore, which is the scariest part. I don’t tell myself I’m just taking a break or that I’ll stop after ten minutes. It’s just scroll time. It’s bedtime. It’s boredom. It’s every time I need something to do with my fingers.

The infinite scroll isn’t just a feature. It’s a behavioural trap. It thrives on a fundamental glitch in human psychology: the sunk cost fallacy. We keep scrolling not because it brings joy or utility but because we’ve already scrolled so much.

Okay, lesson one: What on earth is a sunk cost?

In economics, a sunk cost is any past investment that can’t be recovered. Rational decision-makers, in theory, should ignore these and focus only on whether what comes next is worth it. But that’s not how human brains work.

We stick with bad movies, half-read books, dead-end relationships—and yes, empty feeds—just because we’ve already put in the time. That’s the sunk cost fallacy: “I’ve come this far, might as well keep going.”

Infinite feeds weaponise this tendency. After twenty minutes of meh content, your brain whispers, “Surely the next one will be good.” You’ve already spent so much time; surely, something worthwhile must be coming up. It’s irrational but powerful. And it’s made worse by the illusion of control apps give us.

Next up in the curriculum: gambling. (Don’t worry, we’re not buying chips.)

Enter variable rewards. Straight out of the behavioural psychology playbook, this one’s borrowed from slot machines. When rewards (likes, funny videos, useful content) are unpredictable, we engage more. We get hooked.

B.F. Skinner’s early experiments showed this clearly: give a reward every time, and behaviour is steady. Give it sometimes, randomly, and behaviour becomes frantic, obsessive. That’s the power of a variable ratio schedule—the one slot machines use.

Social apps mimic this perfectly. Each swipe is like pulling a lever—maybe this one will pay out. Maybe not. But the chance it might keeps you going.

Here’s the part where we pretend we’re rational adults.

Tech is designed for a rational user: someone who knows what they want, uses tools efficiently, and logs off. But we’re not that person. Behavioural economics reminds us that we rely on shortcuts, impulses, and emotions.

I’ve tried to outsmart the system. I trained my algorithm to feed me smart content: deep dives, ADHD-friendly lectures, and philosophy breakdowns. But right there between a video on inflation and a Nietzsche quote—boom. Andy Samberg in a wig yelling about sandwiches. And I watch it. Every time.

Okay, now imagine your attention as money. But make it weirder.

If time is money, attention is the weird cryptocurrency we spend without thinking. And just like in a volatile market, we keep throwing it at risky content, hoping for that one great payoff.

But attention is finite. And when we spend it here, we steal it from deeper things: focus, rest, and creativity. The cost isn’t just the minutes lost. It’s the scatter. The overstimulated mind. The shrinking ability to just… sit.

Now, we meet our old friend, Pavlov. Ring ring!

I can go days without social media. But if my phone is within arm’s reach—even when I’m enjoying something else—I’ll grab it. I’ll be reading a book, then suddenly feel the urge to Google the author. Just a quick detour. And suddenly, I’m in a rabbit hole.

This is the Pavlovian part. The phone doesn’t have to buzz. Its presence is the cue. Like Pavlov’s bell making the dog drool, my brain lights up just knowing novelty is a tap away.

And finally, the full-circle moment.

The scroll has become a ritual. A reflex. It doesn’t need a reason anymore. That’s what makes it powerful—and dangerous. There’s no lie left to hide behind. And maybe that’s the start of breaking it. We’re not being tricked. We’re choosing it.

But sometimes, we can choose differently. We can ask: Am I still here because I’m enjoying this? Or just because I’ve already been here too long?

Sometimes, the smartest thing to do is close the tab—and let that sunk cost vanish into the feedless night.

Disclaimer: I am a hypocrite. I will continue to scroll

P.S. If you ever DM me with anything Adam Sandler or Lonely Island related, we shall remain friends for the longest time.