Wednesday, September 25, 2024

The Dopamine Trap: How Our Brains Process Rewards and Distractions


Processors in computers operate with an internal clock frequency, synchronizing their operations to execute instructions. Every time a computer processes tasks, energy flows through its circuits, generating heat. To manage this, processors use Dynamic Frequency Scaling, adjusting speed to balance performance and heat dissipation. This mechanism allows the processor to slow down when fewer tasks are required, reducing energy consumption and preventing overheating.

Our brains, however, seem to function differently. Instead of an internal clock, their processing speed appears to fluctuate based on the presence of hormones. When adrenaline surges—say, when escaping a wild boar (I originally considered a bear, but Leonardo DiCaprio proved otherwise)—our cognitive functions accelerate. Conversely, when lying in bed, hormone production drops, and mental activity slows. However, prolonged hormone deficiency does not seem sustainable. From an evolutionary standpoint, maintaining a baseline level of cognitive engagement is crucial for survival and progress. Perhaps this explains why our minds wander in unexpected ways, such as generating a flood of ideas during a Sunday mass. This observation also hints at why prolonged engagement with social media can feel unnatural—despite its entertainment value, something within us resists being submerged in it indefinitely. Over time, I started questioning the addictive design of these platforms and whether it’s possible to escape their grip altogether.

At its core, the desire to engage with something—anything—is what fuels our attraction to entertainment apps like YouTube. These platforms continuously offer new content to explore, preventing boredom from setting in. When boredom does strike, the brain immediately seeks the next course of action. Typically, it follows one of two paths:

  1. The Straightforward Path: This consists of well-defined tasks requiring minimal decision-making. Examples include picking up a book you’ve already started, continuing a blog post, or tackling a cybersecurity challenge. This path is appealing because it offers clear next steps. However, it also includes effortless distractions like scrolling through Instagram—an option that requires no mental effort yet provides instant gratification.

  2. The Novel Path: This involves tackling something new—such as building a physics engine in C, setting up a private DNS server, or contemplating an original idea. These tasks require initial effort just to figure out how to begin. Unlike the Straightforward Path, where progress is immediate, the Novel Path often leads to hesitation. The challenge is avoiding paralysis by over-planning—spending too much time envisioning every step rather than diving in. When a project is simple, mapping out the entire process in advance may work. But for complex endeavors, experimentation is essential. Otherwise, one risks endlessly contemplating possibilities without ever taking action, much like walking on a treadmill and expecting the scenery to change.

The difference between these two paths is clear: the Straightforward Path provides immediate clarity, while the Novel Path requires navigating uncertainty. Yet, despite its challenges, the brain seems to reward the Novel Path more generously—following a "less effort, less reward" principle. This reward system likely evolved to encourage innovation. After all, a species that only repeats familiar actions stagnates, while one that constantly explores new possibilities thrives. This explains why completing a challenging project feels profoundly more fulfilling than an hour of mindless scrolling.

Unfortunately, modern technology exploits this system by flooding the Straightforward Path with effortless, high-reward distractions. Tasks that once required effort—such as reading a book or tidying up—now compete with activities that demand almost nothing: listening to music, watching videos, or endlessly swiping through TikTok. This shift distorts the effort-to-reward ratio, making it alarmingly easy to engage in low-effort behaviors while receiving a deceptive sense of accomplishment. My biggest concern is the possibility of an entire generation growing up without ever experiencing the deep satisfaction that comes from voluntarily pursuing and completing something challenging—because their attention has been hijacked by instant gratification.

This brings me to another key factor: boredom. Boredom often serves as the gateway to Novel Path exploration. Whether sitting in church or enduring a dull lecture, these moments frequently spark new ideas. However, in our hyper-connected world, boredom is rarely tolerated. Eating a meal without watching a video, finishing a project without immediately checking notifications, or simply staring out the window until inspiration strikes—these experiences are becoming rare. Instead, the Straightforward Path takes over almost instinctively, with smartphones offering the fastest escape. While this provides immediate mental engagement, it often represents a local maximum—a temporary reward that falls short of the deeper fulfillment found through true creative exploration.

Perhaps we should give ourselves more time before reflexively reaching for our phones. But what would be the clear incentive to do so?

Tuesday, September 24, 2024

The Brain’s Resistance to Change: Why We Struggle to Shift Focus

Imagine you own a car factory with a well-oiled production line that has been running smoothly for 20 years. Your entire setup is optimized to manufacture Nissan 350Zs, and although sales are still decent, they’ve declined over time. After conducting a market study, you discover that producing Porsche 911s would significantly boost sales. The catch? Transitioning your factory to build Porsches would require a complete overhaul of the production line. On top of that, a voice in your head whispers, “Why change something that’s still working?”—a sentiment that makes the decision even harder.

This dilemma isn’t limited to car manufacturing. This morning, over breakfast, I realized that I’ve experienced a similar internal struggle in an entirely different context. A while ago, I was experimenting with video editing techniques and truly enjoying the process. At some point, I told myself that I should stop and switch to another task. Surprisingly, this turned out to be the most challenging part of the day. It felt as if my brain was resisting the change with all its might. Even though I logically knew it was time to move on, my brain kept flooding itself with chemicals designed to keep me focused on what I was already doing.

Not being a neurologist, I started thinking of an analogy: the brain might function like the flow of a river. Picture a river—every water droplet is moving in the same direction, with a steady speed, which only changes gradually over time. If you suddenly try to redirect the flow, the entire mass of water resists, naturally trying to maintain its course. Similarly, when you're deeply engaged in an activity, your brain has directed its energy and resources to the neurons that best support that task. Changing direction requires a full-scale reconfiguration of hormones and neural pathways, which is why it feels so difficult.

This concept might also explain why social media and entertainment apps are so addictive. If you’re fully immersed in a difficult math problem, resisting distractions like TikTok is relatively easy—the ‘river’ is already flowing in the direction of deep concentration. However, if you open your phone first thing in the morning, when no strong cognitive direction is established, it’s easy to fall into a scrolling loop. Once engaged, your brain’s ‘Entertainment Neurons’ take control, and shifting focus to something demanding becomes a battle against inertia. Even if you force yourself to start a productive task—say, working on an assignment—your brain might still be drawn to the dopamine rush of social media, making concentration difficult.

What concerns me most is how our habits shape the brain over time. Repeated exposure to social media strengthens neural pathways associated with instant gratification, while reducing the volume of mental resources allocated to deep thinking and problem-solving. It’s frightening to consider that my fingers have memorized the exact motion required to open Instagram, as if on autopilot. While social media certainly has its benefits—improving communication and socialization—it’s alarming that something as mindless as clicking an app has become so reflexive.

Moreover, I’ve noticed that excessive use of entertainment apps diminishes my ability to ponder big questions—questions about life, society, and existence itself. Deep thinking requires an uninterrupted mental state, something that modern distractions constantly threaten. Yet, at the same time, completely avoiding social media might come at a cost—potentially hindering my ability to connect with others.

So, what’s the solution? Balancing focus, entertainment, and deep thinking feels like a million-dollar question—one that we all must grapple with in an era of endless digital distractions.