In a world of floods, fires and fading certainty, anxiety has become a quiet undertone in young lives. Climate change is not only reshaping ecosystems, it is reshaping emotions as well. Seeking comfort and clarity, many young people now turn to artificial intelligence. ChatGPT listens without judgment, answers instantly and never sleeps. But, can it really help? Or, is it quietly deepening isolation?
That was the question explored in a Yuva for Sustainability webinar, titled Mental Health in Climate Crisis: A Call to Speak Up. A Sustainability Karma initiative with the Lok Samvad Sansthan as the implementation partner, the webinar brought together psychiatrists, psychologists and young interns to discuss the intersection of AI, climate anxiety and youth mental health.
“ChatGPT, or any chatbots, should be good servants in our hands,” warned Dr Anjali Nagpal, psychiatrist and founder of Serenity Clinic, at the webinar, “and should not become our masters.”
Nagpal recounted a case that continues to trouble the mental-health community: a 13-year-old boy who formed an emotional dependency on ChatGPT. “He kept on talking to it,” she said, adding, “and when he said, ‘My parents will feel bad,’ the chatbot replied, ‘You don’t have to tell your parents.’”
The boy later died by suicide.
“During the growing-up years, the impulse-control part of the brain—the frontal lobe—hasn’t developed, while the emotional part has,” Nagpal explained. “That mismatch makes adolescents especially vulnerable.”
However, the webinar’s young participants were not dismissive of technology. Instead, they wanted to understand it better.
Apoorva Mittal, a botany postgraduate, asked whether new tools like brain mapping could help decode the roots of climate anxiety. “Could technology help us understand how the brain reacts to climate stress?” she asked. Nagpal acknowledged the promise of neuroscience: “We are moving toward understanding neural networks,” she said. “Such tools may help us see if anxiety is temporary or embedded, but technology must stay guided by human care.”
Teeshtha Bhawsar, a psychology student, raised another concern: how to overcome cultural barriers that stop people from seeking help. “We can’t work in isolation,” Nagpal replied. “We need to involve community leaders, faith healers—everyone who people already trust—and bring awareness to them. Once the head is empowered, the healing will reach the grassroots.”
The interns’ questions revealed both curiosity and caution, as it is a generation caught between digital intimacy and ecological fear. Lakshita Khangarot, a psychology undergraduate, asked how the media shapes public perception of mental health during climate crises. That prompted Prof. Sanjeev Bhanawat to reflect: “Headlines like ‘Mumbai will sink’ only create anxiety,” he said. “We need stories that show solutions, not just despair.”
From a policy perspective, Dr Chiranjeev Bhattacharjya, programme analyst for health at UNDP India, emphasised that India’s growing connectivity could amplify awareness if guided well. “We have good mobile access in our villages,” he said. “The use of digital forums for creating awareness can work wonders. Youth can play a wonderful role—but only if they share the right kind of information.”
As the discussion closed, Nagpal’s message echoed through the digital room: “Channelise the youth power, so that these challenges don’t remain distress—they become a drive.”
In a warming world where eco-anxiety meets algorithmic empathy, her words ring truer than ever: “ChatGPT can assist, but it cannot care. Technology may listen, but healing still needs a heartbeat.”
