For a new feature, Prudence asks readers for their thoughts on the letters she’s received. Her reply will be available every Friday only for Slate Plus members. Dear Prudence is Slate’s advice column. Submit questions here.

Hey Prudence, 

This is a response to your message about being unsure of your purpose. Prudie, we need you now more than ever. Your column (and Slate’s other advice columns too) have become not only my escape from the madness going on around us, but also more crucially a reminder to me of what it feels like to exist in a society that upholds a moral standard.

The news sucks, social media is a bunch of people of varying levels of intelligence shouting into the void, and I’m sure there are lovely newsletters out there but they are hard to find.

Your column has weirdly anchored me through Trump presidencies, COVID, and beyond. You remind me that there’s a way to live good, decently, and well, and are a voice that calmly but firmly reiterates that. I just want you to know the good that you do. You normalize goodness, kindness, and being loving to others while holding our boundaries. You let us dive into “small” problems with you but really this trains us for when we have to face the “big” problems head-on. Prudie, it’s a tough world out there. Your advice column is a not-insignificant part of the way I have processed the past few years. Thank you. Please keep going.

—Thank You, Jiminy Cricket

Hey Prudence, 

Just a heartfelt thanks for your thoughtful introduction to the March 31, “Dear Prudence.” This new world is scary, and every voice that says, “I share your distress” makes it easier to bear, and to act.

—Grandpa Bill

Hey Prudence, 

I really appreciated your honesty about how the current evil empire is affecting you! I agree. It’s shocking how things seem to just get worse. The more we are courageous though (like you have been!) the more we can change things.

—Keep Speaking Up

Hey Prudence, 

Your “I’m back” letter was just as raw, vulnerable, and authentic as the words I’ve come to expect in this column. I started reading Dear Prudence (pretty much daily) as titillating entertainment, a distraction from the real world. However, I often come away with little “aha” moments about how to be a better person, how to flex my empathy muscles, and how to read between the lines. Even on the more superficial letter days, I come away with an appreciation for my (relatively normal) friends, family, and workplace.

I’m not from the States, but your country (and by extension, the world) is in dire straits. Hiding empathy and wisdom in entertainment like putting vegetables in mac and cheese is exactly what columns like Dear Prudence do best. Keep at it.

—Canadian Fan

Hey Prudence, 

I love Jenée’s question about the purpose of Prudence in 2025. I have both a current and a possible answer. Right now, I read the column as a small form of escapism and alternative to social media—it gives me a small break and a peek into someone else’s life without the doomscrolling. But also, part of our current moment is seeing interpersonal and community trust decline, and many of the letters show just how atomized and individualized we’ve come to see even our close relationships. Anything that helps rebuild shared notions of community, civics, being “in it” together, changing minds and repairing hurts, and interrupting cycles of isolation is honestly helpful. Dedicating even a fraction of the space for letters that get at problems of working across differences, countering loneliness, and strengthening civic fabric can be a direct, practical help!

—Can’t Do This Alone

I promise I wasn’t fishing for compliments and validation when I wrote my introduction back to the column (read it here, for those of you who missed it). But I was so moved by the words of the many readers who wrote in to say what our advice columns (not just Dear Prudence, but all of Slate’s columns) mean to them right now, and how it does have a place in the lives of people who are deeply worried about this political moment and all the human suffering that accompanies it.

I keep telling my colleagues I’m going to print some of the comments out and post them in my office as a reminder. I think the “Hiding empathy and wisdom in entertainment like putting vegetables in mac and cheese” line was my favorite. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not delusional enough to suddenly think that my work is on par with that of an immigration attorney fighting unlawful deportations or anything of the sort. But it felt really nice to learn about how reading these columns fits into your lives and what you get out of them. So, thank you!

Hey Prudence, 

My question relates to a lot of commenters who make rather sweeping comments urging people to cut people off or say a flat no. Sometimes I agree, but sometimes people fail to account for the fact that A) the letter writers usually bring up others’ shortcomings, and may not mention the ways that they have been kind and helpful in other situations; B) a harsh “no” may impact your future relations with the people; and C) if you as the columnist just gave that kind of terse “dump him” as the advice, it may well be ignored because the commenters aren’t emotionally involved with the person but the writer is.

So my question is: How much do you think about those things and try to tailor your advice to who the person is, even if you yourself might make a different choice in the same situation?

—Adam B

I agree that many people, when giving advice (not just in advice columns or comments sections, but in life) simply say what they themself would do, or fail to consider that the person asking for advice has their own set of priorities and values. I try to “Dear Prudence” better than the advice someone might stumble across in the wild by really asking myself not what would work not for me, but for the letter writer, according to their values and personality (or at least as much as I’m able to intuit those things from what they write). Big exception for people who are harming someone else and just need to stop, regardless of whether that feels right to them.

Sometimes I like to provide a couple of options, knowing that different things will resonate with different people. And I agree that instructions to cut a loved one off cold turkey often don’t make sense, even if all of us reading know the letter writer would be better off without the villain in their life. I only suggest that when it’s clear the letter writer is itching to do so, and is simply looking for permission.

Hey Prudence, 

Regarding the family birthday party with the cousins: Have the usual low-key party with the cousins, and make the expensive activity with the “besties” a gift to the birthday girl that happens another time.

Honestly, I believe there’s a lot of value in teaching kids that they don’t get to exclude people from festivities just because they want to spend time with others they happen to prefer. Allowing that is a sure-fire method of raising a “mean girl” who grows into a bridezilla. Instead, kids can be taught that there are ways to have time with people they like without hurting people they merely tolerate.

—Michelle

I didn’t get the impression from the letter that doing both parties would be financially feasible. My read was that there was a small sum of money available that could either go to food and drink for a celebration with the family and a couple of extra kids, or an activity for the birthday girl and selected friends. If the letter writer could afford both celebrations, I don’t think there would have been a dilemma or a need to ask for advice.

Help! A Nice Man at Church Asked Us for a Favor. We Have No Idea What We’re About to Get Into. This Content is Available for Slate Plus members only My Sister Left Her Kids With Me “for a Night.” Then She Disappeared. My Kids Think I’ve Been Celibate Since Their Dad Died—And Want to Change That. Uh, How Do I Break It to Them? This Content is Available for Slate Plus members only I Received a Call From a Woman I Didn’t Know. She Insisted We Meet Up. Then She Told Me Something That Will Destroy My Wife.

But I agree with you when it comes to the importance of raising kids who care about how their actions affect others. I probably should have included more of this in my response. Here’s my thing: Realistically, there are going to be many times in her life when, based on limited space, money, or the inability to be in two places at once, the letter writer’s daughter will need to make a tough call, choosing one person over another. Rather than giving her two birthday parties (even if one is labeled a “gift” ) to sidestep the issue, I would encourage the letter writer to guide her daughter to think about how to navigate the situation with as much kindness as possible. The two of them could talk about how cousins might be feeling, and work together to brainstorm ways to show them they are loved and valued. For example, the daughter could agree to minimize jealousy by not gloating about her day spent ice skating (or whatever the activity is) with her two buddies. Or she could plan something special (a sleepover, a bike ride, or a baking project) to look forward to doing with her cousins after her big day.

I think it’s more important to teach her about being fair, honest, and kind than it is to teach her to prioritize other people’s feelings over the totally reasonable thing she wants. I’m less worried about the letter writer raising a bridezilla (although I don’t think my advice would lead to that!) than I am about her raising a woman who thinks she can’t make a choice about her own birthday unless it’s acceptable to everyone around her.

Classic Prudie

A couple of years ago, a family moved into our tight-knit neighborhood. We were at first, delighted that they had a child the same age as ours. Unfortunately, the joy didn’t last long, as we quickly began to notice toxic behavior from the father, “Bradley.” To say he is hot-tempered is an understatement.