Deep Dive: Decoding Popcorn Brain And Its Cultural Impact

Down with the dopamine industrial complex!

To say the least, “popcorn brain” has revolutionized culture.

Popcorn Brain!

Do you often find yourself eager to binge-watch a show, only to realize you can't last more than five minutes without reaching for your phone? If so, you might be grappling with what's known as "popcorn brain." While it might sound corny, this trendy term encapsulates the experience of your attention constantly flitting from one task or topic to another, akin to popcorn kernels bursting in a microwave.

"Popcorn brain" is marked by a lack of structured thinking and a penchant for swiftly switching between tasks without much deliberation.

Popcorn brain becomes a problem when excessive screen time — and constant notifications — limit your capacity for undivided attention.

Recall the last time when you were disconnected from the internet for an extended period. It's likely challenging to remember such a time, isn't it? Yet, it's not solely continuous internet access that contributes to popcorn brain. Various other factors also play a role in fostering a lack of attention:

Switching between devices and apps fragments attention

Within a span of five minutes, you could find yourself browsing through your email, catching up on the latest news, toggling back to view Facebook notifications, and then getting lost in a series of TikTok videos. This diverse array of information creates a clutter in our attention span. These platforms flood users with a constant flow of stimuli, comprising updates, images, and videos. Such an inundation can overpower the brain's ability to sustain focus on any particular task or concept for an extended duration.

Instant gratification activates our reward system

The intermittent rewards on social media, like likes and comments, trigger dopamine release, driving users to seek more engagement, creating a cycle of compulsive behavior. This can make tasks requiring longer periods for reward more difficult to focus on, as excessive screen time weakens the brain's ability for sustained focus and deep thought.

Notifications, infinite scroll, and algorithms pull us back in

We're conditioned to interrupt tasks for phone notifications, which draw us back into social media platforms designed to retain our attention. Features like infinite scrolling foster endless content consumption, contributing to a culture of distraction and impulsivity.

The volume of information is overwhelming

The abundance of information on social media can overwhelm us, leading to cognitive overload and difficulty retaining meaningful information. This passive consumption has made us passive participants, leading to impulsivity and a disconnect from critical thinking.

Traditional media has adjusted to our shortened attention spans

Content creators adapt to cater to our present information consumption habits. Our frequent use of screens has significantly reduced our attention spans, prompting creators to continuously modify the design of social media, websites, as well as movies and television, to align with these evolving preferences.

How Does This Phenomenon Impact Culture?

If culture mirrored politics, you'd be handed merely two options, akin to these:

Culture is the choice between art and entertainment.

Many creative individuals perceive these as the sole alternatives, for both themselves and their audience: either catering to the audience's desires (akin to an entertainer's role) or challenging the public with artistic demands (the essence of artistry).

But they’re dead wrong.

It’s smarter to view the creative economy like a food chain. If you’re an artist — or are striving to become one — your reality often feels like this:

The Reality of Culture

Until recently, the entertainment industry has been experiencing rapid growth, to the extent that anything artsy, indie, or alternative has been sidelined as collateral damage.

But even this unsettling portrayal falls short. It fails to capture the single most significant change unfolding at this moment.

We're witnessing the emergence of a post-entertainment culture, and it spells trouble for the arts. In fact, its ramifications extend far beyond just artistic realms.

Even the behemoths of the industry are feeling the pinch. Entertainment companies are grappling with challenges that few foresaw just a short while ago.

Consider the state of the movie business:

• Disney finds itself in a state of turmoil, with almost everything shrinking except for the CEO's paycheck.

• Paramount recently laid off 800 employees and is actively seeking new ownership.

• Universal is altering its distribution strategy, opting to release movies on streaming platforms a mere three weeks after their theatrical debut.

• Warner Bros. is finding itself more profitable canceling films than actually releasing them.

The TV industry hit a wall in 2023. Following years of steady growth, the number of scripted series has begun to decline:

Creativity is dying…

The music industry may be facing the most dire situation of all. Take, for instance, Sony's recent monumental move: investing $1.2 billion in Michael Jackson's song catalog. Such a substantial investment highlights the reluctance of labels to allocate even a fraction of that sum to launch new artists.

In 2024, musicians are finding themselves worth more posthumously than in their prime, emphasizing a concerning trend.

This begs the question: how can demand for new entertainment dwindle? What could possibly fill the void?

Yet, something is poised to take its place. The transition is already underway.

Here's a more accurate depiction of the cultural landscape in 2024:

Distraction has taken over the landscape.

The fastest-growing segment of the cultural economy revolves around distraction. Whether labeled as scrolling, swiping, time-wasting, or any other term, it's not about art or entertainment; it's simply relentless activity.

The crucial aspect is that each stimulus lasts mere seconds and necessitates repetition.

This burgeoning sector constitutes a massive industry and is poised to soon surpass the combined size of arts and entertainment. Everything is undergoing transformation into TikTok-esque content — a platform aptly named for a business reliant on stimuli that demand repetition within mere moments.

TikTok garnered immense wealth through its fast-paced, scrollable videos. Now, platforms like Facebook, once synonymous with connecting with loved ones, are following suit. Farewell to family updates, hello to Reels. X has taken a similar route, as have Instagram, YouTube, and a plethora of others vying for social media riches.

This trend transcends mere ephemeral fads; it taps into our body chemistry, not merely fashion or aesthetics.

Our brains are wired to reward these fleeting distractions. The release of the neurochemical dopamine induces feelings of pleasure, compelling us to seek out and repeat the stimulus.

The cycle unfolds as follows:

This is one of the most important phenomena to understand in modern times.

This model of addiction is a familiar one.

However, it's now being applied to culture and the creative realm on an unprecedented scale, affecting billions of people. They're unwittingly participating in the largest social engineering experiment in human history.

Consequently, we must abandon the simplistic dichotomy of art versus entertainment. Even the concept of 'distraction' is merely a precursor to the ultimate objective today— addiction.

Here's a glimpse into the future cultural landscape, aggressively pursued by tech platforms that have come to dominate every facet of our lives:

Addiction is lucrative to exploit.

The tech platforms operate nothing like the Medici in Florence or other wealthy patrons of the arts. Their aim isn't to discover the next Michelangelo or Mozart; rather, they seek to foster a world of addicts — because they are the ones who will profit as the dealers.

Addiction is their endgame.

They may not openly declare it, but their actions speak volumes.

Every aspect is meticulously crafted to ensnare users in an addictive cycle.

• Platforms are transitioning towards scrolling and reeling interfaces designed to optimize the dopamine-fueled loop.

• Any content that might lure you away from the platform — be it a news article or an external link — is ruthlessly suppressed by their algorithms. Liberating users from their dependent state is simply not permissible.

• But that's not all. Companies like Apple and Facebook are now urging users to don their virtual reality headsets, immersing them in a deluge of stimuli, akin to the tiny fish in my food chain analogy. Users are encouraged to passively consume fabricated experiences, reminiscent of pod slaves in The Matrix.

Tech CEOs are well aware of the harm they're inflicting, as evidenced by a whistleblower's revelations, which exposed internal documents showing how Instagram use leads to depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation. Mark Zuckerberg was privy to these disturbing details.

However, they remain indifferent. These CEOs understand the stakes; the more their technology is utilized, the more detrimental the psychological effects become.

Yet, they persist relentlessly, unwilling to cede market share to other dopamine peddlers, particularly focusing on children. They've discerned what every purveyor of addiction knows: it's more profitable to ensnare users while they're young.

The introduction of virtual reality headsets only compounds the issues, as they effectively rewire users' brains. Experts have begun discussing "simulator sickness," encompassing physical symptoms such as nausea, dizziness, and headaches. The psychological ramifications are even more profound.

And you thought artists faced challenges in the past?

Even the most banal forms of entertainment pale in comparison to dopamine culture. Hamlet is replaced by a snapshot of a burger, or a video of someone twerking, or a goofy-looking pet.

Instead of movies, users are inundated with an endless stream of 15-second videos. Symphonies are supplanted by bite-sized melodies, often accompanied by these minuscule videos — just enough to elicit a dopamine rush, and nothing more.

This is the new cultural paradigm, characterized by the conspicuous absence of Culture (with a capital C) or even mindless entertainment — both eclipsed by compulsive engagement:

Depiction of Present Culture

So don't be taken aback when major corporations discard any pretense — hence the emergence of entertainment businesses swiftly embracing gambling and similarly addictive offerings. Now you understand why the Super Bowl took place in Las Vegas— a perfect emblem for the current state of our culture.

Everything is being gamified. Anything can be made scrollable. You can virtually simulate any endeavor.

But what toll does this exact on our brains? On our lives? On the trajectory of our future?

This is where the science takes a truly grim turn. The more addicts rely on these stimuli, the less pleasure they derive. Eventually, this cycle engenders anhedonia — the complete absence of enjoyment in an experience ostensibly sought for pleasure.

It appears paradoxical.

How can the pursuit of pleasure result in less pleasure? Yet, that's precisely how our brains function (arguably as a protective mechanism). Beyond a certain threshold, addicts continue seeking the stimulus, but more to alleviate the pain of dopamine deprivation.

Individuals addicted to painkillers undergo a similar ordeal. Beyond a certain point, opioid dependence exacerbates the pain.

Now, consider when this identical phenomenon is disseminated to everyone via their smartphones. The repercussions are devastating, as Dr. Len Lantz, an expert in the field, states. Even those who believed themselves immune to addictive behaviors find themselves ensnared in the cycle:

There is a specific, abnormal brain activation pattern that is present in people who have anhedonia, which is a key feature of major depression, and absent in those who do not. It is often the case that when patients come to me with major depression, they say, “I shouldn’t be depressed. I have a good life. If my friends or coworkers knew I was depressed, they wouldn’t understand or they would be mad at me. They think I have it made. So, why don’t I feel that way?”

We're witnessing the initial societal ramifications of this numbing effect on a grand scale.

Let's coin a term for it — something along the lines of "TikTok Depression" or "Silicon Valley Zombification," although the specific label isn't crucial. What matters is that users can sense it, even without a formal diagnosis or designation. They experience it, even if the technocrats refuse to acknowledge its existence. Just listen to the vernacular people employ to depict their toxic online experiences: doomscrolling, trolling, doxxing, gaslighting, and so forth.

In 2024, this is what passes for leisure.

Yet, it fails to bring happiness. The World Happiness Report surveyed 150,000 individuals across 26 nations, revealing a significant decline in happiness levels within prosperous, technologically advanced societies like the US. This is the consequence of anhedonia being readily available week after week — while the ubiquitous tech platforms increasingly resemble the merciless corporations that profited from opioid abuse.

Some enterprises ensnare individuals with pills and syringes, while others utilize apps and algorithms. Nevertheless, the outcome remains the same: the production of addicts.

This is our dystopian future — not quite Orwell's “1984”, but more akin to Huxley's “Brave New World.”

Dr. Anna Lembke, author of "Dopamine Nation," occasionally advises her patients to undergo a "dopamine fast" lasting one month — a sufficient period for the brain to begin rewiring itself. Yet, even disconnecting for a few minutes can evoke fear in those entrapped by the cycle.

She provides an example:

My patient Sophie, a Stanford undergraduate from South Korea, came in seeking help for depression and anxiety. Among the many things we talked about, she told me she spends most of her waking hours plugged into some kind of device: Instagramming, YouTubing, listening to podcasts and playlists.

In session with her I suggested she try walking to class without listening to anything and just letting her own thoughts bubble to the surface.

She looked at me both incredulous and afraid.

“Why would I do that?” she asked, openmouthed.

Not too long ago, I would have brushed off anecdotes like these. The idea of someone being addicted to Instagram, TikTok, or any other phone app seemed far-fetched to me.

But I don’t need to imagine anything now. This is the harsh reality of our culture in 2024.

And it's a more significant issue than just struggling artists or faltering media companies. The dopamine cartel is exacerbating our most pressing social problems —in education, workplaces, and private lives.

Yet, you'll scarcely hear about it — because too many individuals are reaping enormous profits from the dopamine culture.

If you thought the drug cartels were wealthy, wait until you see the riches amassed by the dopamine cartel. Just take a glance at the market capitalization of companies like Apple, Meta, and others. They've become so immense that they seem beyond regulation.

But they can be held accountable. If politicians won't act, then it falls upon us — and it's imperative that we do.

Simply shedding light on the truth about the dopamine cartel would represent a significant stride forward for our culture in 2024.

Also, do yourself a favor: disconnect from time to time and take notice of the nature around you. They're more captivating in real life than through a headset.