Newsletter #5
The Addiction Economy, Dopamine Overload and Biscuits
Hi there,
We’re in the third week of Lent.
I’ve not officially given up anything this year but the kids have decided that they’ll go 40 days and 40 nights without biscuits. And they’ve stuck to it so far - good on them.
We’re not a religious family. But we do go to church at Easter. More to show face than to hear the sermon, if I’m being honest. I have a slight aversion to religious dogma to go more regularly than that. But behind the formal rituals that put me off, I can see lots of practical wisdom that I know to be true.
Dogma - I’m not a fan of. Spiritual practice - I love.
And here’s why I believe the spiritual practice of giving stuff up at Easter is a good idea.
Beyond Theology
Lent carries deep religious significance for Christians because it represents the 40-day period of preparation before Holy Week. A week that commemorates Jesus's final days, his crucifixion, and then his resurrection on Easter Sunday.
The 40-day preparation relates to Jesus's time fasting in the wilderness, where he was tempted again and again by Satan.
Fasting. In the wilderness. Hounded by Satan. Resisting temptation.
Doesn’t sound like the sort of preparation I would like put myself through? So why bother? What is Jesus actually achieving during this period? And what’s the message he wants to get across?
There are four big themes that stand out for me;
Acknowledging mortality and humility: It begins with Ash Wednesday's reminder that "from dust you came, to dust you shall return". The point being that we’re all human. We live. We die. We’re not that special. A good reminder to be humble.
Resisting temptation: Jesus resisted Satan’s temptation and in doing so re-affirmed his relationship with God. This suggests that it’s entirely possible to strengthen our relationship with the divine by resisting our own worldly desires
Embracing sacrifice: Jesus went willingly to the cross because it was God’s will for him to do so. Jesus had more to give and teach as a result of his crucifixion. This shows us that sacrifice could well be a pathway to spiritual growth.
Spiritual renewal: Jesus is in the final furlong to complete renewal. He chose to prepare for this renewal by acknowledging his mortality and humility, resisting temptation, by embracing sacrifice. Maybe a similar 40-day preparation could lead to some form of spiritual renewal for everyone.
“Yes that’s all well and good” I hear you say. “But I’m not a Christian. I don’t believe in God, or Jesus, or Satan. This doesn’t apply to me. I can’t see why giving anything up would help. After all, I don’t need a spiritual renewal”
Not so fast.
You may not be a Christian. You may not believe in Jesus or God or Satan. But I would strongly suggest that you would benefit from some sort of spiritual renewal. And therefore I would strongly suggest that the Christian practices of acknowledging mortality and humility, resisting temptation, and embracing sacrifice, and are very, very relevant.
That’s because a seductive, Satan-like force does exist in the world today. It’s impact and presence is growing all the time.
You probably aren’t aware of it. But you’ll be aware of the growing effect it’s having on you. It’s slowly sapping life out of you. It’s making you more and more unhappy.
In the bible, Jesus personified this seductive force as Satan.
Today, Scientists call it “dopamine overload”.
We’re a Dopamine Nation
Dopamine is a brain chemical that plays a pretty important role in our lives. It helps us focus our attention, strengthens our working memory, and facilitates decision-making. And crucially, it gives us feelings of pleasure and reinforcement that motivate us to repeat certain behaviours when we encounter something we like. It’s a reward mechanism for pleasant experiences.
For most of our human existence it’s helped create a healthy level of motivation to repeat certain activities that have kept our race going. But dopamine has a dark side. It is the mechanism that leads to addiction. A topic I know only too well.
Addiction is caused as a result of two dopamine side effects.
Firstly, every dopamine hit of pleasure (which feels great at the time) is always accompanied by a withdrawal. There’s always a comedown. And the comedown creates a craving to feel the pleasure once again. Small dopamine hits have small comedowns and cravings. Big dopamine hits have big comedowns and cravings.
So, it’s unsurprising that activities such as drinking alcohol, taking cocaine, winning money on scratch cards and pornography are addictive. Big hits of pleasure. Big comedowns. Big cravings to seek out more of that type of pleasure.
But then there’s the double whammy of the second side effect.
Regularly engaging in constant high-dopamine activities causes our brains to reduce dopamine receptors. This means we require more and more stimulation to feel the same amount of pleasure. A phenomena that builds our tolerance.
This is useful information to know for fully blown addicts like me. It helps explain my addiction to alcohol. I recognise the comedowns, the cravings and the need to drink more and more for very little effect. (Here’s a cool cartoon video that portrays this downward dopamine spiral into addiction if you have 5 mins.)
But why would this information be useful to you; a normal, everyday, non-addict?
Because there are a raft of activities that most of us do everyday, that are totally addictive but we brush under the carpet as not being in the same destructive league as alcohol or cocaine or gambling.
These addictive activities include smartphone use, social media engagement, online shopping, eating sugar and even work. All these activities give us a hit of dopamine. All come with a sense of pleasure followed by a comedown and craving. And all lead to some sort of compulsive behaviour as we engage in them more and more.
The impact is subtle. It may not feel like full-blown, out-of-control addiction. But the consequences in the long run are just the same; anxiety, depression, discontentment, restlessness and unhappiness abound.
I believe these subtle forms of addiction are a problem. And a problem that’s growing. More and more people in our society are falling further and deeper into dangerous cycles of unnoticed, subtle addiction. And we’re allowing it to happen. Not least because the biggest businesses in the world fuel some form or other of these low level types of addiction.
The Addiction Economy
Eight of the world's ten most valuable businesses are essentially dopamine merchants or they supply dopamine merchants.
Some of the worlds most famous consumer brands are not selling products anymore – they're selling hits. Quick fixes. Moments of escape.
Apple, Google, Facebook, TikTok, Amazon, McDonalds, Coca Cola.
You get the picture. It’s bad. But the bad news is it’s getting worse.
If you’re an adult you probably reach for your iPhone 46 times a day. If you’re a teenager it’s 237 times.
In the UK, 28-30% of adults are obese. Only 5% of them were obese as children. Today, 23% - 24% of children aged 10-11 are classified as obese.
The figures are brutal. And getting worse. This isn’t because we are bad people or have bad children. It’s because we live in an economy that knows how to tap into our addictive, dopamine-loving, human nature. We live in an addiction economy.
Social media companies know exactly what sort of content to serve up to us to keep us on the never-ending scroll. They know how to keep us hooked.
Food companies engineer their products not for nutrition but for the "bliss point" – that perfect combination of fat and sugar that leaves us wanting more, never quite satisfied.
Today's drug cartels wear suits with trainers and give TED talks. They're not pushing crack; they're pushing algorithms and junk food.
My fear is that our modern day culture is falling ever more deeply into this state of being. A fear that is shared by Dr Anna Lembke. She wrote a book called "Dopamine Nation." Her key point was that we live in a world of unprecedented access to pleasure-inducing stimuli. All of which adds up to and creates a "dopamine overload". An overload that disrupts our brain's natural balance and leads inevitably to addiction, anxiety, depression and wider and wider levels of unhappiness.
What a world we live in! Is there any hope?
Thankfully, Dr Lembke does have some hope. In her book she suggests three key things we could do to address our dopamine overload;
Radical Honesty: Firstly, we need to be honest. Primarily with ourselves. We need to acknowledge that there are certain activities that we undoubtedly ‘like’ but know deep down are harming us. Once we admit that we aren’t as happy as we’d like to be and are probably somewhere on the addictive spectrum, then we can do something about it.
Abstinence and the Dopamine Reset: Next, she advocates for periods of abstinence (typically 30+ days) to reset dopamine sensitivity and restore the brain's natural balance. This means not just ‘cutting back’ but ‘cutting out’ wherever possible. It’s hard to start with but abstinence is the only way I know to break free of addictive cycles.
Pain as the Path to Pleasure: Finally, and counterintuitively, Lembke advocates embracing discomfort as part of our daily routines (cold showers, fasting, etc.) These uncomfortable experiences can enhance our capacity for pleasure by regularly resetting our reward pathways.
Mmmm… Lembke’s suggestions sound strangely familiar
Acknowledging mortality and humility = Radical honesty
Resisting temptation = Abstinence and the Dopamine Reset
Embracing sacrifice = Pain as the path to pleasure
It seems the bible had a solution for our dopamine overload all the time.
That’s why I believe Lent is relevant to all of us. And possibly even more so for younger generations. Encouraging our kids to do without something for a while may spark a challenging conversation in the short run, but could well improve their happiness over time.
But before you go and kick your son off the XBox, I want to leave you with a final thought. And that comes from Gabor Mate; an addiction specialist that I particularly like, who believes there maybe a spiritual angle to the addictive problem we face.
Permanent Relief from the Pain that Haunts Us
According to Maté, addiction is not primarily about the substance or behaviour itself. We know that big dopamine hit after big dopamine hit will eventually lead to addiction. But he’s more interested in why are we seeking out all these big artificial dopamine hits in the first place. What’s the motivation driving us to do things that we know are ultimately harmful?
At the heart of it all is "temporary relief.” We use dopamine inducing activity as a coping mechanism for underlying pain. It gives us short term release from the everyday uneasiness we feel. And these activities become addictive when they are particularly good at relieving the emotional pain we feel inside.
Feel the pain. Seek short term relief. The pain returns. Feel the pain. Seek short term relief. The pain returns. Feel the pain. And on and on.
Maté’s key insight is that addiction is not a choice or moral failing but an understandable response to our everyday suffering. In his view, the question is not "Why the addiction?" but rather "Why the pain?"
What a great question.
What is the pain that we’re suffering as a nation that means we’re collectively turning to more and more quick fix solutions to find that temporary relief for ourselves? And also for our children?
I suspect our addictive economy has something to do with it. We all feel emotional pain at some point or other. But we’ve engineered a way of living and working that promotes, celebrates and rewards ‘temporary relief’ to that pain. Selling temporary relief makes money. We’ve grown our whole economy on it. But temporary relief leads to dopamine overload. It leads to further pain. The more we treat ourselves with temporary solutions, the more pain we eventually feel. No wonder big businesses are thriving. The more we buy, the more we need to buy.
Dealing with the pain. Finding permeant relief from the pain doesn’t make money. Permanent relief requires a spiritual process. It requires spiritual renewal. It requires us to do the complete opposite of buying temporary relief. It requires resisting temptation, it requires abstinence, honesty, humility and sitting with the discomfort every now and then.
It may not be very popular. And it may not make much money. But it will leave us being a whole lot happier.
I would love for us to build a wellbeing economy. An antidote to the addiction economy where we promote, celebrate and reward spiritual wellbeing and permanent relief to our pains. But I’m not sure we can wait for our political leaders to do that for the economy as a whole.
So we may have to go it alone. We may have to be humble and be honest about our pain. We may have to resist temptation and be abstinent for a while. We may have to embrace sacrifice and sit with the discomfort. And we may have to do these things as part of our everyday lives.
Or at least for 40 days and 40 nights.
Because if we are able to do all these things, we just may find the spiritual renewal and permanent relief that our souls are craving.
And giving up biscuits is as good a place to start as anywhere.
Until next time.
Simon