Sub-theme 1.1: Enhanced understanding and new information.

This sub-theme captures the potential of podcasts in providing young people with accessible, relevant and potentially novel information concerning sexual health. Participants described encountering key concepts such as HIV treatment, biomedical prevention, and reproductive possibilities for people living with HIV for the first time. This occurred in contrast to formal sex education content that may be partial or outdated. In this context, the podcast was not just informative but instructive, filling in knowledge gaps.

As an example, one participant reflected that “The podcast was about HIV. It was informative and educational… It definitely broadened my understanding of how HIV is actually treated” (Participant 2, FG1), signalling a shift to a more accurate understanding of the topic. Another participant noted the personal impact of learning that people living with HIV could lead full and relationally rich lives: “I didn’t know someone living with HIV could have a baby, or be in a relationship, or live a completely healthy life” (Participant 1, FG3). In this context, the information disrupted listeners’ longstanding associations of HIV with death or social exclusion.

Beyond individual knowledge acquisition, the podcast medium was also seen as a socially valuable tool for professional development and future practice. One participant, a nursing student, reflected that while the content might not change their personal habits, “it gives me that standing for the future to not hold the stigma” (Participant 2, FG1), indicating how new information can influence not only self-understanding but also broader professional ethics.

Participants also drew attention to the emotional dimensions of knowledge with one participant explaining that “I wouldn’t say I learned new facts, but my understanding of the emotional and social layers around sexual health deepened” (Participant 4, FG5), suggesting that learning was not limited to biomedical facts but extended to affective and interpersonal insight — aspects that may be overlooked in conventional education. Others expressed scepticism about the limits of information alone in changing behaviour, with one stating, “just giving people information doesn’t always lead to change” (Participant 2, FG5), emphasising the need for emotional resonance and practical pathways alongside knowledge.

Sub-theme 1.2: Attitudinal changes and perception shift.

This sub-theme highlights how the podcast’s use of real-life stories and emotional resonance encouraged participants to reassess their attitudes and understanding of sexual health. By centring lived experiences, the podcast offered a more humanising lens on topics that are often presented through fear-based messaging in formal education.

The storytelling approach was perceived to be better at connecting with participants emotionally than formal or academic language, leading to positive changes in their attitudes and encouraging them to rethink their existing stereotypes and biases about sexual health. As one participant expressed, “Tasha’s story about motherhood and HIV — it hit me in a way that no sex ed class ever did. Like, that’s what I want from a podcast — real voices, not just experts” (Participant 3, FG3). This highlights the significance of authenticity and relatability in health education, where lived experience can challenge dominant narratives and evoke critical reflection. Similarly, another participant noted that “hearing someone like Tasha talk about her experience — that’s different. That is my world” (Participant 3, FG3), suggesting that resonance is rooted in perceived proximity and shared reality.

These attitudinal shifts were not limited to emotional recognition but extended into cognitive reappraisal. Several participants acknowledged that the stories disrupted longstanding stigmas and moralistic framings of HIV. One participant reflected, “Before this, HIV was honestly something I associated with fear. It was talked about church as a punishment or something only ‘immoral’ people get, which I know now is totally wrong” (Participant 1, FG3), underscoring the de-othering effect of personal storytelling. The shift from fear and judgment to empathy and normalisation is consistent with sociological theories of stigma reduction, which emphasise the role of interpersonal exposure and narrative in reshaping public perceptions.

Sub-theme 1.3: Behavioural intentions and motivational impact.

This sub-theme explores how podcast-based content prompted participants to consider taking action related to their sexual health. While not all listeners reported immediate behavioural changes, many described feeling more motivated to seek testing, initiate conversations, or reflect on future professional practice. The podcast was perceived as lowering emotional and social barriers to these behaviours by presenting information in relatable, non-judgmental ways.

Some participants described how the content led them to contemplate real-world actions. For example, one shared, “For me, it was more than just reflection. I actually looked up where to get tested near my uni. I haven’t booked it yet, but that’s already something I wouldn’t have done before” (Participant 1, FG3), suggesting that the podcast functioned as a behavioural prompt. Rather than prescribing action, the conversational tone created space for self-directed decision-making. This illustrates how podcast content can operate as a “soft prompt” within the behavioural intention stage of the Theory of Planned Behaviour, particularly by lowering the perceived social cost of action in contexts where sexual health remains taboo.

For those studying or working in health, the podcast also influenced professional aspirations. A nursing student explained, “I believe it would impact how I actually practice as a nurse… It gives me that standing for the future to not hold the stigma” (Participant 2, FG1), indicating how motivational impact extended beyond personal health to ethical positioning in care settings.

Others noted that the podcast gave them practical ideas for how to initiate conversations about sexual health. A pair of participants commented that “So maybe not full-on action yet, but I’d call it movement. And honestly, I brought it up with Participant 2 last night too like, whether we’ve been avoiding certain conversations out of habit or awkwardness” (Participant 1, FG4), highlighting how podcasts may serve as social scripts or behavioural rehearsals. However, some remained cautious about equating motivation with behaviour. As one put it, “I wouldn’t say it changed my behaviour but it did make me think more compassionately about others who haven’t taken that step yet” (Participant 4, FG5), underscoring that knowledge and motivation are only part of a complex pathway to action. Overall, participants saw podcasts as a valuable first step, one that promotes readiness and reduces stigma, even if action is delayed. Notably, while participants articulated a readiness to act, their narratives suggest a delayed enactment, highlighting a potential conflict between intention and behaviour often overlooked in linear health behaviour models.

Sub-theme 1.4: Emotional impact vs. behavioural sustainability.

This sub-theme reflects how participants were often emotionally affected by the podcast, especially by personal stories shared by the guests. While some participants described moments of personal reflection on their own attitudes or past experiences, these emotional reactions did not always lead to sustained behavioural change. The podcast served as a prompt for thinking but not always as a catalyst for action. These emotional reactions can be understood not only as personal reflections but also as affective responses to dominant discourses of risk, morality and health responsibility embedded within sexual health communication and education.

Participants frequently described being “hit emotionally” by the content, particularly through authentic, lived experiences that contrasted with the detached tone of traditional sex education. One noted that the episode “It felt a bit like a wake-up call. Not in a panic kind of way, but in a why haven’t I done this before?” (Participant 1, FG4), indicating that emotional intensity fostered connection. While these emotional reactions were powerful, participants often struggled to translate them into concrete actions or decisions. As one participant put it, “You might know something but still not feel like you can act on it” (Participant 2, FG5), highlighting a gap between internal response and external change.

Some participants viewed emotional impact as a necessary but insufficient catalyst. A comment from FG5 captured this tension: “Podcast can spark interest but people need follow-up or somewhere to go after that. Otherwise, it just stays as content and doesn’t really move people” (Participant 4, FG5), reflecting the concern that affective learning alone cannot sustain behaviour without structural reinforcement [28]. This also aligns with the notion of affective publics [29], where emotional engagement does not inherently translate into political or behavioural outcomes without community or institutional support. Others added that they appreciated the emotional tone but were already familiar with the content, which limited its transformative potential. For instance, one shared, “I’m glad I know the information, but I think for some of them I already knew, and I guess it won’t change my way of [thinking]” (Participant 1, FG2).

This disconnection matches important theories about changing behaviour, like the Health Belief Model (HBM) and Social Cognitive Theory (SCT), which both say that just feeling strong emotions isn’t enough to keep someone changing their behaviour. According to HBM, individuals are unlikely to act solely based on emotional reactions unless they also perceive themselves as susceptible to risk, believe in the severity of consequences, and receive clear cues to action and reassurance about potential barriers. In parallel, SCT emphasises that emotional arousal may generate awareness, but it must be accompanied by self-efficacy, observational learning, and supportive environments to lead to meaningful change. As Bandura [30] noted, emotional responses need to be paired with a sense of control and actionable pathways; otherwise, motivation may remain dormant. The participants’ reflections in this sub-theme exemplify this theoretical gap: they were moved but lacked the tools or confidence to act.

Sub-theme 1.5: Cultural influences on sexual health awareness, knowledge, and behaviours.

This sub-theme highlights how cultural and religious norms shape young people’s ability to engage with sexual health information, often contributing to silence, stigma, and constrained behavioural responses. Across the focus groups, participants reflected on how deeply embedded values from family, religion, and peer contexts limit open dialogue of sexual health knowledge.

Several participants described growing up in environments where sexual health was considered taboo, with one explaining that “In my culture, we rarely discuss sexual health issues or related topics” (Participant 1, FG1). These silences were not merely interpersonal but perceived as moral imperatives shaped by religion. For instance, one participant reflected on the guilt instilled by their upbringing: “Something related to this is that even all the social media platforms banned us from watching porn or getting any knowledge of how sexual life is meant to be” (Participant 1, FG1), illustrating how internalised stigma continues to restrict engagement, even when accurate information is available. Notably, although participants often described the cultural and religious stigma surrounding sexual health, the specific podcast episodes included in this study did not explicitly engage with cultural or religious norms as barriers to sexual health communication. This reflects a limitation of the specific podcast episodes analysed in this study, rather than of the whole Caddyshack podcast project or of the study design, as the present study examined young people’s responses to an existing podcast intervention and did not involve co-designing content tailored to specific cultural contexts. Accordingly, participants’ accounts highlight a mismatch between the broadly inclusive messaging of the selected Caddyshack episodes and the more context-specific moral and cultural constraints faced by some young people, particularly those from religiously conservative backgrounds.

Podcast exposure was sometimes described as a catalyst that gently disrupted these inherited taboos. A participant shared that “Hearing people speak so openly kind of made me feel like maybe it’s not something to be ashamed of” (Participant 1, FG5), suggesting that relatable audio storytelling may help reframe sexuality as a topic worthy of discussion. However, others expressed that while the podcast prompted reflection, cultural constraints continued to inhibit behaviour change, particularly when broader social or family norms were unsupportive. One participant shared, “In my family, and honestly in a lot of households from my community, we just don’t talk about sexual health. Like, ever. Even saying the word sex in front of your parents would be out of line. It’s not even just embarrassment; it’s that it feels morally wrong, like you’re going against your faith” (Participant 1, FG5), illustrating how family and community cultural stigma may override even strong individual awareness.

These reflections highlight that sexual health promotion for young people must be not only informational but also culturally attuned. Participants from CALD backgrounds, particularly those with religious and culturally conservative upbringings, shared how moral scripts from family and faith traditions continued to suppress sexual health promotion, even when they personally recognised the value of the podcast content. This illustrates a tension: people may receive and intellectually accept sexual health knowledge, but when it conflicts with deeper cultural norms, it becomes behaviourally inert. The podcast’s inclusive tone created emotional impact, yet its limited direct engagement with cultural and religious constraints may have reduced its relevance and practical utility for some listeners. From a HBM perspective, even when young people perceived the benefits of sexual health information, the absence of culturally sensitive cues for action and the presence of strong barriers, such as shame or familial disapproval, interfered with behaviour change. Likewise, SCT suggests that emotional arousal must be accompanied by self-efficacy and enabling environments to drive sustained action, factors largely absent in these accounts. This points to an important implication for future podcast development: culturally responsive content (e.g., explicitly acknowledging faith-based or culturally grounded concerns) may better support young people who experience these constraints. This theme also matches the results from the study, which found that there aren’t enough culturally relevant frameworks in current podcast-based programs for CALD youth [31].

Sub-theme 2.1: Podcast format and content delivery.

This sub-theme explores how the podcast’s format, particularly its conversational tone, narrative style, and use of diverse voices, shaped young people’s engagement with the content. Participants frequently emphasised that these stylistic features were central to the podcast’s perceived accessibility, emotional resonance, and educational value. By moving away from traditional didactic formats, the podcast was seen to foster relatability, trust, and multidimensional understanding.

Several participants praised the use of natural and discussion-based delivery, highlighting that “I like how you can just dive into the conversation in a way that feels engaging and fluid” (Participant 3, FG1). This conversational style was repeatedly associated with increased clarity and emotional connection, particularly among those who found formal education settings alienating. The inclusion of multiple speakers and personal stories further enhanced this effect. For instance, one participant noted, “I also really like casual, back-and-forth style conversations — like when people bounce ideas off each other. That makes it feel more real, less scripted” (Participant 3, FG4), indicating that the interactive structure contributed to a stronger sense of authenticity. The strong preference for unscripted, peer-like delivery can be seen as preferencing experiential over credentialed authority by young people.

Others valued the inclusive tone of the podcast, explaining that its respectful and non-judgmental approach supported a sense of psychological safety. As one participant expressed, “So by sharing their own experience, it helps them to understand each other and also find certainty” (Participant 1, FG1), suggesting that stylistic delivery can mediate power dynamics and improve receptivity to sexual health messages. Conversely, some participants critiqued the overly professional or academic tone in certain episodes, which “sounded like a lecture” and “don’t feel the connection” (Participant 3, FG3), revealing a tension between perceived expertise and engagement. This suggests that future episodes of the On The Couch podcast targeting young people specifically should avoid overly clinical or academic tones. Participants consistently responded more positively to content that felt authentic, personal, and peer-led, rather than expert-dominated. This critique shows how perceived legitimacy in health messaging is increasingly tied to narrative authenticity rather than formal expertise, a shift potentially also reflective of broader sociocultural distrust in institutional authority, particularly around health and wellbeing.

Young participants consistently associated the podcast’s conversational format with greater engagement, emotional resonance, and informational clarity. This preference highlights that delivery style shapes how information is emotionally processed and cognitively retained, especially when the narrative feels familiar and non-authoritative. Youth voices, storytelling, and informal pacing helped reduce perceived power imbalances and foster a sense of shared experience, making the content easier to absorb. While most participants responded positively to this relaxed style, others critiqued episodes that felt “too professional” or “like a psychology lecture”, revealing diverse expectations shaped by differing educational backgrounds and prior exposure to health communication. These reflections align with Objective 2 by illustrating how young people engaged with podcast-specific elements such as tone and format, and with Objective 5 by clarifying why they often preferred the On The Couch podcast over other platforms like YouTube or TikTok, which were considered either too fragmented or too entertainment-focused. From a Social Cognitive Theory perspective, these findings underscore the power of modelling: hearing peers openly discuss sexual health helped build observational learning and emotional trust, both critical precursors to behaviour change. Without that peer-based credibility, motivation may falter even if the information is technically accurate. This interpretation is consistent with the study [32], which identified that youth-oriented sexual health podcasts are most effective when they feature diverse voices, conversational structure, and peer-relevant narratives that reduce psychological distance.

Sub-theme 2.2: Accessibility and technical ease.

This sub-theme highlights how the technical ease and flexible access afforded by podcasts shaped participants’ engagement with sexual health content, particularly in comparison to more formal or screen-based educational formats. The ability to listen on-demand and in varied environments made the medium particularly attractive to young people managing busy or multitasking routines.

Participants commonly described the podcast format as seamlessly integrated into their everyday lives, offering opportunities to absorb information while engaging in other tasks. For instance, one participant noted that they “could use it at any time when I’m cooking, taking a shower, or just on my commute way back from home” (Participant 1, FG1), suggesting that the audio-only nature allowed sexual health content to be consumed passively yet meaningfully. Similarly, listening during commuting or while doing chores was seen as an efficient and low-effort form of health education, underscoring the affordance of temporal flexibility and cognitive multitasking.

However, others drew attention to the limitations posed by the lack of visual and textual support, especially for those who rely on visual reinforcement or subtitles for better comprehension. One participant reflected, “If it doesn’t show up visually with a caption or a quote no one’s clicking through” (Participant 2, FG5), indicating that engagement was partially dependent on individual learning styles and accessibility needs. The absence of supplementary visual cues was also noted as a potential barrier for audiences with hearing impairments. This potential technological unawareness also signals a potential class-based or linguistic divide in accessing health knowledge, raising equity concerns about who benefits from inclusive digital formats that are aimed at inclusivity.

These diverse responses suggest that while podcast-based learning offers convenience and accessibility, it may not meet all users’ needs equally. Suggestions such as incorporating visual infographics, or live captions were raised to enhance inclusivity and comprehension. As one participant proposed, “Subtitles or a transcript would help me keep up” (Participant 1, FG3), highlighting a desire for more multimodal engagement options. Interestingly, some of these features, such as auto-generated transcripts, are already available on mainstream platforms like Apple Podcasts; participants seemed unaware of their existence. This suggests that accessibility gaps may stem not only from technological absence but also from low visibility. Participants’ calls for clearer summaries also point to the need for structural design choices within podcast episodes themselves, such as verbal recaps or key takeaways at the end of each episode, to support different learning preferences. Although it should be noted that transcripts are currently available, some participants may not have been aware of them or may have expected them to be presented in a more accessible or visible format.

This sub-theme shows that podcast accessibility is not just about whether the content is available, but about whether it meets the needs of different types of listeners. Participants valued the ability to listen while multitasking, but their responses also showed that access and engagement depended on how they processed information. Many required visual reinforcement, captions, or clearer summaries to fully understand the content. The Health Belief Model (HBM) suggests that without strong cues to action [33], such as visual prompts or verbal recaps, motivation to act on the information may remain low. Interestingly, some accessibility tools, such as auto-generated transcripts, already exist on major platforms, but participants were unaware of them. This highlights a gap between technical availability and user awareness. These findings show that while podcasts can be flexible and accessible, truly inclusive design must account for different learning needs, attention styles, and ways of retaining information beyond audio alone.

Sub-theme 2.3: Length and attention span.

This sub-theme explores how the podcast’s duration influenced young people’s willingness to engage, sustain attention, and perceive informational value. Participants consistently reflected on the importance of matching length to attention capacity, signalling a broader challenge for long-form audio content in capturing and retaining youth engagement. While some valued the opportunity for in-depth discussion, others expressed frustration when the content felt overly extended or insufficiently structured.

Several participants described the 30-minute duration as a functional upper limit for concentration and knowledge retention, with one noting that “anything longer than half an hour, and I just zone out — especially if I’m not doing something while listening” (Participant 1, FG2). This reflects a broader trend among digital-native audiences, where shorter content is often perceived as more usable and compatible with fragmented schedules. Another participant explained, “If it’s too long and doesn’t move, I stop paying attention. There’s just so much else I could be doing” (Participant 2, FG4), suggesting that lack of content momentum can directly lead to disengagement.

However, others emphasised that longer formats could be effective when paired with compelling storytelling or expert insights. One participant remarked, “I don’t mind 40 minutes if it’s interesting and not just repeating stuff. But if it drags, I’m out” (Participant 3, FG5), indicating that perceived value, rather than absolute length, is what governs sustained engagement. These perspectives underscore the challenge of balancing depth with digestibility, particularly in health promotion formats.

This sub-theme reveals that podcast length alone does not determine engagement; rather, it interacts with pacing, perceived value, and content relevance. Participants repeatedly stressed that episodes exceeding 30 minutes risked losing their attention unless the content remained dynamic and emotionally engaging. While some preferred shorter formats due to limited attention spans shaped by platforms like TikTok and YouTube, others were willing to invest more time when the topic felt meaningful or when delivery included vivid storytelling, practical relevance, or peer voices. These findings align by illustrating how participants engaged with specific podcast elements like duration and narrative structure and revealing why short-form content remains dominant among youth. According to Social Cognitive Theory, attention and retention are enhanced when observational learning is supported by emotional resonance. Participants’ engagement increased when the podcast incorporated these elements, suggesting that sustained attention is not merely a function of time but of content and emotional connection. This interpretation is supported by the study, which found that youth-focused health podcasts were most effective when they delivered focused content in well-paced formats that matched the attention habits of digital-native audiences [31].

Sub-theme 2.4: Comparisons and preferences with short-form medium.

This sub-theme captures participants’ comparisons between podcast content and short-form media platforms such as TikTok and YouTube, highlighting how format, interactivity, and immediacy shape young people’s media preferences when engaging with sexual health topics. While podcasts were recognised for their narrative depth and reflective potential, short-form formats were often perceived as more aligned with youth’s attention patterns and digital consumption habits.

Participants repeatedly described short videos as more compatible with fast-paced lifestyles, suggesting that immediacy and brevity were essential for maintaining engagement. As one participant explained, “If it was on TikTok, I would probably watch it more — short, sharp, and grabs your attention” (Participant 2, FG3), indicating that platform familiarity and design affordances contribute to higher exposure. Another noted the interactive appeal of short-form platforms: “TikTok has comments and stitches — you can actually see other people reacting, which makes it feel more alive” (Participant 3, FG1), suggesting that peer-driven content may foster a greater sense of community involvement and responsiveness than passive listening alone.

This preference was not universally endorsed. Some participants appreciated the depth podcasts offered, particularly for complex or emotionally sensitive topics that required more context. One remarked, “Short videos are good for a quick message, but sometimes you need more than 30 seconds to get what someone’s really saying” (Participant 1, FG5), reflecting a perceived trade-off between emotional nuance and brevity. Others proposed a hybrid approach, suggesting that short-form content could be used to “hook interest” while podcasts provide fuller explorations.

While participants acknowledged the immediacy and shareability of short-form platforms like TikTok, they did not suggest these formats could replace the depth provided by longer podcast episodes. Rather, they described a complementary strategy, where short videos might spark initial interest but require follow-up through more reflective, narrative-rich content. However, this hybrid approach carries the risk of trivialisation if short-form content is not intentionally designed to connect meaningfully with substantive discussions. Participants indicated that content sustaining longer engagement needed to feel authentic and emotionally relevant when addressing complex issues like consent, identity, or stigma. These patterns reflect core principles of social cognitive theory, where attention is enhanced when learners encounter content that feels socially relatable and emotionally engaging. Peer-led storytelling, moments of vulnerability, and cultural specificity were repeatedly mentioned as factors that encouraged sustained attention. These reflections show how young people select and switch between media platforms based on content resonance and clarify what features (e.g., interactivity, emotional tone) make podcast-based content more engaging. Ultimately, content format alone is not enough; what matters is how well it aligns with young people’s social realities and informational needs.

Sub-theme 3.1: Perceived limitations of podcasts.

This sub-theme captures participants’ reflections on structural, stylistic, and contextual limitations that reduced the perceived impact and accessibility of the On The Couch podcast. While many recognised the podcast’s potential, several participants found that certain delivery features diminished their engagement, including slow pacing, lack of concrete examples, and overly clinical language. These critiques highlight a mismatch between how the podcast communicated its content and what young people found engaging or accessible.

Some participants expressed frustration at the podcast’s introductory segments, describing them as “dragging on for too long” or “delaying the actual content,” which led to early disengagement. One participant noted, “I zoned out in the first few minutes… it was too much preamble before getting to the story” (Participant 1, FG2), suggesting that attention could be lost before the key message was delivered. Others highlighted that the pacing and tone lacked dynamism, with one describing it as “just someone talking for too long, with no shift in energy” (Participant 4, FG5), indicating a perceived mismatch with the faster, more interactive formats young people often consume.

In addition to structural concerns, some participants found the language used in the podcast episodes listened to for the study to be “too academic” or “sounding like a lecture,” limiting relatability and emotional connection. This perception was amplified by a lack of illustrative case examples or real-world scenarios. As one participant remarked, “They talked about stigma but didn’t really show what it looks like. I needed a real person’s story” (Participant 3, FG2), underscoring a need for greater contextual grounding. Such comments reflect the limitations of abstracted health discourse, where stigma is often named but not socially situated.

This sub-theme highlights how structural and stylistic features of the On The Couch podcast, such as pacing, tone, and language, shaped participants’ engagement and perceived relevance. While many acknowledged the podcast’s intent, several participants described its delivery as overly academic, too slow, or lacking emotional variation. These critiques reflect more than surface preferences; they signal a deeper disconnect between traditional health communication models and the expectations of young audiences. According to social cognitive theory, attention and message retention improve when content is socially and emotionally relatable. However, participants reported disengaging during prolonged introductions or monotone narration, indicating that without narrative momentum or variation, content may fail to sustain cognitive focus. The absence of concrete case examples further reduced opportunities for observational learning and emotional connection, which are both critical for behavioural impact. As one participant noted, “Talking about stigma isn’t enough—I needed a real person’s story,” emphasising the need for contextual grounding. From a Health Belief Model perspective, if young people cannot recognise personal relevance or emotional salience, their motivation to act may remain low. These findings highlight that effective podcast design must integrate not only accurate information but also delivery strategies that resonate with youth media habits, emotional engagement patterns, and attention styles. Engagement appears essential for achieving meaningful impact in podcast-based sexual health promotion.

Sub-theme 3.2: Participant-driven improvement suggestions.

This sub-theme highlights participants’ suggestions for enhancing the impact, relatability, and inclusivity of podcast-based sexual health education. Rather than passively receiving content, many participants took an active evaluative stance, envisioning improvements that could foster stronger engagement, emotional resonance, and youth-centred design.

A recurrent theme was the desire for more interactive and dialogical formats. One participant proposed involving young people directly in the podcast, noting that “having someone our age as a co-host or like a guest every now and then… that would make it feel less like we’re being taught, more like we’re being talked with” (Participant 2, FG1). This underscores the value of peer voice integration, suggesting a shift from expert-dominant delivery toward co-produced knowledge environments that are more horizontal and participatory.

Other participants emphasised the need for greater authenticity through lived experience. For example, one remarked, “I think real stories would go a long way — maybe not just professionals talking, but like people who’ve been through this” (Participant 4, FG2), indicating that health information gains credibility and emotional impact when grounded in personal narratives. Similarly, Participant 3 in FG5 suggested that “more rawness” was needed “stuff that doesn’t sound rehearsed or perfect. Like actual struggles.” These comments reveal an appetite for emotional realism, where imperfection is not a flaw but a marker of trustworthiness and relatability.

Participants also highlighted production elements as a site for improvement. While some of these suggestions, such as adding transcripts or visual supports, were discussed earlier in relation to accessibility, they were reiterated here as part of broader calls for improved production quality. “Better editing, some music, even chapter markers can help maintain engagement” (Participant 2, FG3), one suggested, pointing to the potential of aesthetic and structural refinements in sustaining attention. Others once again emphasised the value of visual or transcript supplements, with one noting, “sometimes I just need to see the words” (Participant 1, FG4), especially for audiences with diverse language backgrounds.

These participant-driven suggestions reveal more than stylistic preferences. They point to a deeper expectation that sexual health communication should be socially engaging, emotionally relatable, and tailored to the ways young people prefer to learn. From the perspective of social cognitive theory, such responses can be understood through mechanisms like attention, motivation, and observational learning. Participants were more engaged when they saw or heard from people similar to themselves, particularly when content was delivered in a tone that felt authentic rather than instructional. Suggestions to include young co-hosts or real-life stories reflect a desire for peer modelling, where trust and credibility are built through shared identity and emotional realism. Likewise, calls for more dynamic production elements, such as music or improved editing, reflect an effort to capture attention and enhance content retention. These findings suggest that podcast-based health interventions must move beyond simply delivering accurate information, and instead consider how delivery strategies influence engagement and learning outcomes.

Sub-theme 3.3: Future topics for health-related podcast content.

This sub-theme captures participants’ suggestions for expanding the thematic scope of the podcast to better reflect their holistic health concerns. Although most participants had only listened to two episodes focused on sexual health, many expressed curiosity about how the podcast might evolve to include other aspects of wellbeing. Rather than criticising the existing content, which was generally well received, they envisioned future episodes that could address intersecting issues, such as mental health, reproductive justice, and identity-related challenges. This desire to “broaden” content appears grounded not in dissatisfaction with the current focus but in a recognition that youth health needs are multifaceted and often interconnected.

Mental health was the most frequently mentioned topic, often discussed with urgency and emotional resonance. One participant explained, “I immediately think of mental health, especially things like anxiety, burnout, and identity crisis—the kind of stuff people go through in uni but don’t always talk about out loud” (Participant 3, FG5), indicating both the relevance and silence surrounding these experiences. Others echoed this sentiment, with a participant noting that “mental health is so linked with sexual health anyway, like how you feel about yourself, shame, confidence, all that” (Participant 1, FG3), suggesting an integrated approach to health education.

Participants also identified child health as an area with unmet information needs. One participant observed, “I feel like no one talks to young people about parenting or how to raise kids, but lots of us have younger siblings or even think about having kids early” (Participant 2, FG1), pointing to a generational gap in practical health education. Another participant proposed including “real parents talking about how they talk to their kids about this stuff” (Participant 4, FG2), emphasising intergenerational dialogue and lived experience.

While these suggestions varied in focus, they consistently called for content that is emotionally honest, socially relevant, and grounded in everyday realities. Some participants stressed that health topics should reflect the pressures they actually face, not what institutions assume they need. As one put it, “don’t just do what schools do—talk about the things we actually think about” (Participant 3, FG5), underscoring a gap between health knowledge and lived youth experiences.

These findings suggest that young people view health not as a series of isolated domains but as a set of interconnected experiences shaped by emotion, identity, and context. The desire to include topics such as mental health, parenting, and intergenerational relationships reflects a shift toward more holistic and socially embedded understandings of wellbeing. From a social cognitive theory perspective, these preferences reinforce the importance of emotional resonance and contextual relevance in health communication. When participants requested “real stories” and content “we actually think about,” they were calling for podcasts to reflect their social environments and everyday struggles. This supports themes where engagement was tied not only to format and tone but also to perceived authenticity and cultural relevance. Expanding podcast content in response to these expectations may strengthen both attention and behavioural impact by the lived realities and cognitive frameworks of youth audiences.