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Porch Light Dads

By Josh Moore · August 17, 2026 · 4 min read

What you're actually searching for at 11 p.m.

The house is quiet and you're on your phone typing a question you'd never say out loud in daylight. Some of those searches are for information. Most of them aren't.

It's 11:40. The house finally went quiet about forty minutes ago. You're lying there with the brightness turned all the way down so it doesn't wake anybody, typing a question into your phone that you would not say out loud at the dinner table.

Four results in, you're watching a very confident stranger explain your kid to you.

The feed does not know how to say "I don't know"

That's the whole problem with where we go at midnight. A search box will never tell you it isn't sure. It returns the most confident thing available, and confidence is not the same as knowing.

A person who actually knows you says something different. They say I don't know. They say that happened to us and I was scared out of my mind. They say call somebody in the morning, it's late, you're not going to solve this at midnight. None of that fits in a feed, so none of that is what you get.

And a lot of us are standing in that room now. Pew put out a short read this week on how many Americans get health information from social media, and from wellness influencers in particular — worth a look if only to notice yourself in it. It's a survey, not a scolding. I'm not here to tell you to stop looking things up. I look things up.

Two different searches wearing the same clothes

Here's the part that took me embarrassingly long to see.

Some searches are for information. You need to know what time the urgent care opens, or what a form means, or how much a thing costs. That search ends. You find the answer, you put the phone down, you go to sleep.

The other kind never ends. You read something, it helps for ninety seconds, and then you're typing a slightly different version of the same question. Then a third version. Then you're forty minutes deep and further from sleep than when you started.

That second search isn't for information. It's for reassurance. And reassurance is not on the internet. It has never once been on the internet. You can read every result on the page and you will still be lying there at 12:30 with your chest tight, because what you actually wanted was for someone to tell you it's going to be okay and that you're not screwing this up.

The internet cannot say that. It doesn't know you.

Why we do it alone, at night, in the dark

Because asking a real person costs something.

It costs admitting you don't know. And a lot of us were built to walk into a room with the problem already solved — to do the not-knowing part in private and show up with the answer. That's why 11:40 p.m. is prime time for it. It's the only hour of the day when nobody can see you not know something.

I'd love to say I've grown out of this. I haven't. I've just gotten a little faster at catching myself on the third search.

Doing the not-knowing part in private isn't strength. It's just a habit that never got questioned.

Here's what changed it for me a bit: noticing that every time I finally said the thing out loud to another dad, the response was almost never advice. It was yeah, us too. And that landed in a way that four hundred search results never did. Not because he knew more than the internet. Because he knew me, and he wasn't performing certainty.

What to actually do this week

Pick the one thing you've searched more than twice.

You know which one. It's the one you've typed three different ways hoping for a better answer. Say it out loud to one person this week — your wife, your brother, a guy from the group, whoever's actually in your corner. You don't have to make it a whole thing. "Hey, this has been sitting on me" is a complete sentence.

Two honest notes before you go. If the question is a medical one — about your kid, about yourself, about anyone — that belongs with a doctor, not with me and not with a feed. I'm a dad, not a professional, and I'd be doing you dirt to pretend otherwise. And if what's keeping you up has been keeping you up for a while now, that's worth saying to someone who's trained for it. We keep a state-by-state list of real support for exactly that. This is a room full of dads. It's genuinely good, and it is not the same thing as care.

But if it's the ordinary kind of 11:40 — the kind where you just needed somebody to know — then don't spend another night handing that to a search box.

Say it to a person. Then put the phone down and go to sleep.

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