What this is about:
A new Harvard Business Review piece argues that AI may not just save effort at work. It may also create a different kind of exhaustion, as people spend more time checking, correcting, and supervising machine output.

Why it matters:
AI is being sold as frictionless productivity. The emerging picture is messier: less “work disappearing,” more humans inheriting the uncertainty.

What’s happening:
The HBR authors report survey findings from 1,488 US workers in large companies, suggesting that heavier AI-oversight workflows are linked to more mental effort, more information overload, more errors and higher intent to quit.

The catch:
This is not a formal diagnosis, and “AI brain fry” is not a clinical construct. The findings are survey-based, so they are better read as an early signal than settled evidence.

The interesting bit:
The strongest idea here is not really burnout, but role drift. Workers are no longer just doing the task. They are reviewing machine-generated guesses, checking whether fluent outputs are actually correct and bearing the cognitive cost of that uncertainty.

The line:
Not labour-saving so much as labour-shifting

Sources: HBR | BCG | CBS News

I’m writing this with Classic FM on and Thomas on my lap, purring in time to Miserere. Or she was, until she got up and flattened a ladybird. Classic FM has been in the wallpaper of my life for years. I’m suddenly back in my Dad’s Montego Countryman, having missed the train to school, me and all my friends piled in the back while he blasted classical music from the speakers and we begged him to put on Radio 1. He wouldn’t. Instead, he’d give us a running commentary on the composer, the suite, the history, the bit that was about to come next. Now, from about two notes, I know exactly what piece is about to wash through the car or the house. I am, truly, my father’s daughter.

We leave Classic FM on for Thomas when we’re out. When I’m alone in my office, it’s on there too. It stopped being the thing my Dad inflicted on me and became the thing that steadies me. Maybe I am an adult now. I don’t know. I do know that I use music for very specific functions. Classical when I need containing. Gaming soundtracks when I’m knee deep in the doctorate and need some kind of relentless, propulsion system to get me through (and yes, there is a body of research behind this, obvs). It’s all regulation, really. Structure for my nervous system. Something outside of me carrying a rhythm when I feel too full of other people’s noise.

I feel saturated this week. A colleague said to me today that ‘we are only given things we can cope with’. I agree, though I would like the distributor of those things to calm down. I am, in most areas of my life, the doer, the mender, the sorter-outer. In friendships, in family, at work, I am often the one people ring when something has gone sideways and needs holding, fixing, naming, moving. Usually I can do that with a fair degree of competence and swearing. This week, all of those contexts feel under pressure at once, everything has gone bloody sideways to the point it doesn’t quite feel believable, and I’ve had to admit that I need handling with some care too. Which is irritating.

War remains a high-context marker on my caseload, across both NHS and private practice: It is moving through families, reactivating old stories, unspoken loyalties, inherited griefs, fractures that were already there and are now impossible to ignore. Maybe that’s why Classic FM has been more of a solace for me than usual this week. It knows something about tension, about dread, about beauty sat next to loss.

Great title, right?

Last week, I read this newsletter written by Laura Meyer on the very honest pros and cons of starting your career in the trenches of community mental health, and it immediately made me want to share her work here.

Laura is a licensed therapist, clinical supervisor, and the writer behind the free Substack Billable Hours and Existential Dread.

Why I’m sharing it:
Laura has a grounded, generous way of writing that feels both practical and refreshingly honest.

She offers support for clinicians, thoughtful guidance for new supervisors, and reflections on the complicated experience of being both a therapist and a human.

Also worth knowing:
After building a solo practice and working as an office manager and consultant for group practices, Laura created a collection of practical tools, worksheets, and on-demand training for therapists, especially early-career clinicians and those growing their practices.

You can find those in her Therapist Resource Shop.

One more thing:
Laura is leading a free workshop through our friends at Therapist Resource Network on Coping with Primary Trauma as a Therapist on Thursday, March 26. Register here.

Fun story: when I was in grad school in my mid-20s, my practicum supervisors and professors used the word ambivalence all the time. All. The. Time. They said it like I obviously knew what it meant, so naturally, I acted as I did, even though I did not.

Meanwhile, apparently, many of my clients were “experiencing ambivalence.”

This tool of the week is dedicated to 26-year-old me, who was too afraid to ask for a definition.

What it is:
Ambivalence is when someone has mixed or conflicting feelings about something.

Examples:

What ambivalence is not:
It’s not laziness, defiance, or apathy.
It’s also not a sign that someone “doesn’t really want” positive change.

Often, it means something important is at stake.

Why it matters:
Ambivalence is often part of the change process.

It’s not a detour from the work. It is the work.

Ways a therapist can approach it:

Normalize it.
Mixed feelings are common.
Try: “It makes sense that part of you wants this and part of you doesn’t.”

Get curious.
Resist the urge to persuade. Explore both sides equally and with curiosity instead.

Look for the function.
The “stuck” part is often protecting something: safety, relief, belonging, predictability, identity.

Reflect the conflict.
Help clients hear their own internal tug-of-war.
Try: “I’m hearing that you feel really done with this, and also that letting it go feels scary.”

The World Happiness Report is an annual global well-being report published by the Wellbeing Research Centre at the University of Oxford, in partnership with Gallup, the UN Sustainable Development Solutions Network, and an independent editorial board. It’s written by researchers across disciplines, and the 2026 edition focuses on a very current question: what is social media actually doing to happiness and wellbeing?

Big picture results:

Findings on Well-Being:

Social media findings:

One of the most useful nuances:
This is not just a “kids need less screen time” report. The summary notes that school belonging may matter even more for life satisfaction than reducing social media use alone.

Population Level Harm
The report includes a chapter arguing that social media is causing real harm at a population level, pointing to evidence from surveys, longitudinal studies, experiments, and natural experiments. That chapter highlights direct harms like cyberbullying and sextortion, along with indirect harms like anxiety and depression.

Therapist takeaway:

The more useful question is not “How much are you online?”

Instead try:

Source: The World Happiness Report, March 19, 2026

I took a spring flower arranging class last weekend. I came away feeling proud of what I made and convinced I should have more hobbies of my own rather than only supporting my children’s.

If you want to make an arrangement yourself, here are a few things I learned:

Stories from the community

Our largest group was therapists in the 6–10-year range. Experienced enough to know what you’re doing, but not so far in that the profession has fully calcified your facial expressions.

Regarding the 0% who selected student/pre-licensed: We know some of you are here. We see you, we’re glad you’re here, and we’re honored to be part of your journey into this beautiful, messy profession, even if you aren’t keen on polls.