It starts with a remote control. Or maybe an algorithm. For Jen Senko, the filmmaker behind the documentary The Brainwashing of My Dad, it started with a long commute and a radio. Her father was once a non-political, open-minded Democrat. He was the kind of guy who didn't really care about who was in the White House as long as life was moving along. But then, things shifted. He changed. It wasn't overnight, which is the scary part. It was a slow, steady drip of anger that turned a kind man into someone unrecognizable to his own family.
People talk about "rabbit holes" all the time now. It’s a cliché. But for families watching a loved one transform into a vessel for media talking points, it feels less like a hole and more like a cage.
Honestly, we’ve all seen it. Maybe it’s your uncle. Maybe it’s your old college roommate who now spends sixteen hours a day on a specific subreddit. This isn't just about "politics" in the way we used to talk about it. It’s about how the brain reacts to constant, high-cortisol stimulation. It’s about neuroplasticity—the way our brains literally rewire themselves based on the input they receive.
Why the Brainwashing of My Dad resonates so much today
When Senko released her film in 2016, it hit a nerve because it gave a name to a phenomenon millions were experiencing but couldn't explain. She wasn't just complaining about her dad’s new opinions. She was documenting a personality shift. The film explores how her father became addicted to the outrage cycle fueled by talk radio and cable news.
The "brainwashing" isn't some MK-Ultra style room with flickering lights. It’s much more subtle and, frankly, more effective. It uses something called illusory truth effect. This is a psychological glitch where we start to believe something is true simply because we’ve heard it repeated so many times. If you hear the same scary narrative on your morning drive, then see it on your Facebook feed at lunch, and then hear a news anchor shout it at you during dinner, your brain starts to flag that information as "safe" and "true," regardless of the actual evidence.
It’s about fear.
The amygdala, that tiny almond-shaped part of your brain responsible for processing threats, gets hijacked. When you are constantly told that your way of life is under attack, your body stays in a state of fight-or-flight. You can't think critically when you're in fight-or-flight. You just react.
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The role of "Outrage Porn" in modern media
If you want to understand the mechanics behind what happened to Senko’s father, you have to look at the business model. It's not a conspiracy; it's capitalism. Attention is the currency.
Anger is the most "sticky" emotion we have. A study from Beihang University once found that on social media, anger spreads significantly faster and more widely than joy or sadness. Media outlets—across the entire political spectrum, to be fair, though the film focuses on a specific right-wing pipeline—learned that if they could keep you angry, they could keep you watching.
- They create a "villain."
- They tell you the villain is coming for you.
- They tell you that only they are telling you the truth.
This creates an insular world. It’s what sociologists call an epistemic bubble. Inside the bubble, everything makes sense. Outside the bubble, everyone is either "brainwashed" (ironically) or evil. For Senko’s dad, the car radio was the gateway. For people today, it’s usually the "Recommended for You" section.
The neurobiology of the "Hook"
Think about dopamine. We usually associate it with pleasure, but it’s actually about anticipation and seeking. When someone clicks a link that promises to show them "The Truth the Media Won't Tell You," they get a little hit of dopamine. It feels good to be in the know. It feels even better to feel morally superior to those who don't have the "facts."
Over time, the brain requires more extreme content to get that same hit. This is why people don't just stay at "moderate" views once they enter these cycles. They drift further and further toward the edges. They become radicalized not by a person, but by a process.
Is "Brainwashing" the right word?
Critics often argue that "brainwashing" is too strong a term. They say it robs people of their agency. After all, her dad chose to turn on the radio, right?
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Well, it’s complicated.
Social psychologists like Kathleen Taylor, who wrote Brainwashing: The Science of Thought Control, argue that while it’s not literal "magic," the combination of social isolation, repetition, and emotional manipulation creates a state that is functionally very similar to traditional definitions of brainwashing. You aren't being forced at gunpoint, but your environment is being curated so tightly that you no longer have access to the tools needed for independent thought.
You become an echo of your intake.
Jen Senko’s film eventually shows a breakthrough. Her father’s environment changed. His access to the constant stream of outrage was limited—partially by accident when his radio broke and he moved to an assisted living facility that didn't have the same cable package. Slowly, the "old" him started to return. He became kinder. He stopped shouting about the news.
This suggests that the "brainwashing" isn't a permanent lobotomy. It’s a state of being that requires constant maintenance from the media source. If you cut off the source, the brain has a chance to reset.
Breaking the cycle: What you can actually do
If you feel like you're losing a family member to the same forces described in The Brainwashing of My Dad, shouting facts at them won't work. In fact, it often makes it worse. This is known as the backfire effect. When someone’s core identity is tied to their beliefs, challenging those beliefs feels like a physical attack.
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Instead of arguing over the latest headline, experts suggest focusing on the relationship.
- Reconnect through shared history. Talk about things that happened before the obsession began. Remind them of who they were.
- Identify the emotion, not the "fact." If they are ranting about a specific policy, ask: "It sounds like you're really worried about the future. What specifically are you afraid will happen?"
- Set boundaries. It is okay to say, "I love you, but I’m not going to talk about the news with you because it makes us both unhappy."
- Encourage "Media Fasting." Sometimes, a weekend camping trip without cell service can do more for a person's mental health than a thousand debates.
The reality is that we are living in an era where our attention is being harvested. The story of Senko’s father is a cautionary tale, but it's also a common one. It reminds us that our minds are vulnerable. We like to think we are objective thinkers, but we are mostly just biological machines responding to inputs.
Practical steps for digital hygiene
If you’re worried about your own "intake" or that of a loved one, here is a non-exhaustive way to look at it. Don't try to do everything at once.
First, audit your notifications. Every "Breaking News" alert is designed to spike your cortisol. Turn them off. You don't need to know what happened in Washington the second it happens.
Second, look for "Grey Media." Avoid the pundits who scream. Look for long-form reporting that acknowledges complexity. If an article makes you feel smug and angry, it’s probably manipulation, not information.
Third, diversify the medium. Read a physical book. Listen to a podcast about history or science—something that doesn't have a "current events" hook. Give your amygdala a break.
The transformation of Jen Senko's father wasn't a freak accident. It was the result of a system working exactly as it was designed. Understanding that system is the first step toward walking away from it.
Actionable Insights for Moving Forward
- Implement a "24-Hour Rule": When you hear a piece of news that makes you feel extreme anger or fear, wait 24 hours before sharing it or commenting on it. Often, the initial "shock" report is corrected or nuanced within a day.
- Change the Environment: If a loved one is constantly consuming outrage media, try to introduce new shared hobbies that require focus and physical presence—gardening, woodworking, or even simple board games. This pulls the brain out of the abstract, digital world and back into reality.
- Use "I" Statements: When discussing the impact of their personality change, focus on your feelings. "I feel lonely when we spend our time together talking about things that make us angry" is harder to argue with than "You've been brainwashed."
- Support Independent Documentary Work: Watch The Brainwashing of My Dad with an open mind. Use it as a conversation starter rather than a weapon. Sometimes, seeing the process play out in someone else’s life helps a person recognize the patterns in their own.