I often say that we are all instant-gratification pleasure-seeking pain-avoiding monkeys. Our nervous systems have evolved to seek pleasure and to avoid pain. In the environment in which we evolved, things that bring us pleasure– like sex, sugary/salty/fatty foods, or social standing– make us more likely to survive and pass on our genes. Similarly, things that bring us pain– like physical injury, social disgrace, or rotten food– make us less likely to survive and pass on our genes. In short, our nervous system (of which our brain is the key part), has been optimized for an environment in which pleasure signals and pain signals were synchronized to our survival needs. But the environment in which we now find ourselves is not the environment in which our species evolved.
Today, we live in a world where pleasure is cheap, abundant, and rather than being linked to survival, is often connected with disease or unhappiness. Highly processed foods deliver intense bursts of sugar, salt, and fat; these foods are designed to tap into the circuitry in our brains that triggers pleasure, hijacking a signal that served us well in an environment of scarcity. Social media platforms provide an endless stream of validation without the effort and challenge of deep relationships. Social media platforms are meticulously designed to exploit our brain’s craving for social approval by delivering instant, intermittent rewards. Features like likes, comments, and shares act as micro-doses of validation, triggering the release of dopamine—the same neurotransmitter involved in addiction– without helping us bond to each other. Pornography offers the illusion of sexual abundance without the complexity of human connection.
This mismatch between our evolved wiring and our modern environment creates a fundamental problem: we are drawn to behaviors that feel good in the moment but that harm us in the long run. Our ancestors needed to eat as much high-calorie food as possible when they found it. Today, that same drive leads us to overconsume ultra-processed foods, contributing to obesity and chronic disease. Our deep sensitivity to social approval once ensured cooperation and survival in small tribes, but now it traps us in cycles of social comparison, anxiety, and performative behavior on digital platforms. This hijacking is not an accident; it’s carefully planned and researched with the intent of selling us more stuff. The fact that it is not in our interest is a) an unfortunate side effect to those who designed it b) easily explained away by glitzy PR teams and c) wildly profitable.
Many of the pains that once served as critical warnings or motivators for change now have value-free substitutes. If we were feeling uneasy with loneliness, we could take it as a cue to reach out to others and deepen our integration into our communities. Now, we can scroll instagram instead, and feel the rush of connection without needing to do any of the hard, messy work of actually forming a relationship. Boredom might have once been a signal to pursue new interests, but now we can treat that discomfort by swiping through TikTok and alleviating the discomfort– all without actually learning anything new.
There’s a saying attributed to Vince Lombardi, Practice doesn’t make perfect. Perfect practice makes perfect. We become skilled in the things we practice, for better or for worse. Practice being inattentive, and you will become excellent at being inattentive. Practice being focused, and you will become better at focusing. Practice sitting with discomfort, and you will be able to sit with discomfort. Practice swiping a small glass screen for distraction at the slightest inkling of boredom, feeling your attention shift every 14 seconds, and you will become skilled at…
In our time of abundance, there is always an easy way for our nervous system to escape pain and find pleasure, but the more we do this, the more we become practiced at it—and the more other skills atrophy. The result is that we are not only disconnected from deep relationships, we are losing the skills to form them at all. We are not only struggling with attention and impulse control, but our ability to do this is withering. We are caught in cycles of consumption that leave us unfulfilled, and losing the skills to pursue the alternative.
This is not because we lack willpower or moral strength—it is because we live in a world where hijacking our instincts is wildly profitable. The more we practice distraction, impulsivity, and shallow gratification, the more these patterns become ingrained. We are not accidentally choosing the wrong things; we are being trained to do so, shaping our brains in ways that do not serve our own well-being.
To reclaim control, we must become intentional about what we practice. This means deliberately choosing friction over convenience, depth over superficiality, and resilience over avoidance. It means resisting the urge to reach for our phones at the first sign of boredom, taking the time to engage in real conversations instead of relying on quick digital interactions, and being mindful of what we consume—whether food, media, or experiences. The more we practice these things, the better we get at doing them. Just as our ancestors had to work for their survival in a difficult sometimes inhospitable world, we must work for our well-being in a world that is not designed for us. But unlike them, our struggle is not against scarcity—it is against abundance.
Cheers,
Doc