How many of you have mobile phones on you—hold them up. Now, how many of those were on when I asked you? Thank you. You are my product.
You see, the dopamine hit you get from every ping, buzz, and like is a tiny, yet predictable, hit of pleasure that keeps you coming back for more. It’s small but powerful, like sugar for your brain. And, while you’re getting that dopamine rush, your attention—what you’re focusing on—is being sold to companies eager to sell you products and services tailored to what you’re watching. And believe me, we know what you’re watching.
You, my friends, are not the customers. You are the commodity. I, and others in the business, am the middleman, the agent, gathering your attention and behavior data and selling it to the highest bidder. We sell that attention in a fraction of a second. We work fast—1/30,000th of a second, to be exact.
But despite knowing all this, despite realizing you’re being sold, you’ll come back for more. Any lab rat knows the truth: consistency promotes moderation, but randomness—those unpredictable hits of dopamine—drives compulsive behavior. That’s the formula for overconsumption. And it’s why breaking free is so hard.
But here’s where I want to focus today: how do we break free? The neurology behind this fascinates me. There’s a study called “Time Stands Still” (even though, of course, it doesn’t). It delves into why time seems to slow down in certain moments—particularly when we’re laying down new memories. You see, when we’re out of our comfort zones, everything seems to slow down because our brains are busy creating new, unique material, unlike the same old repetitive content we’re used to absorbing.
And this, I believe, is part of the solution. We need to find real-world experiences that challenge us, that force our brains to write something new. It’s about stepping away from the screens, the dopamine-driven cycles, and finding discomfort in pursuits that matter.
So why not seek something in the real world that excites you, that hurts, but in a way that helps you grow. Learn how many failed experiments it takes to make edible sourdough. Pick up a paintbrush and fail at watercolor until, one day, you fail a little less. Decide to have kids at 50, or two kids if you’re really bold. Get your skydiving license. Scuba dive with sharks. Kayak miles of open water, and then do it again with a thousand others. Hike across the Middle East. Write a book about it.
Time doesn’t stand still, but you can make your moments last.
Forrest Gump did.