Deliberating The 'Dopamine Detox'

Distractions are everywhere: This piece might even be one.

Whether it’s TikTok’s infatuation with rawdogging (get your mind out of the gutter) or a good ol’-fashioned dopamine detox, there’s a repeating trend in society where we feel inclined to unshackle ourselves from instant gratification culture.

Today this tendency spawns from screens and content, but the desire to sequestre oneself started well before Steve Jobs – in fact, before anyone was called Steve at all.

Practices of isolation and hermitude have existed for millennia. Whether in the Hindu’s exploration of the self in the Upanishads of 800 BC, Judaism’s Shabbat documented around the same time, Buddhism’s rainy season Vassa from 600 BCE, the bible’s description of Jesus’ forty days in the desert, or Islam’s yearly sawm during Ramadan practised from 600AD onwards…

The notion of removal from our habitual treadmill to encourage reflection and/or resetting has been present throughout history.

You may feel that the black square glued to your thigh is too distracting – and it is – but your ancestors were similarly keen to remove themselves from societal stimulation to seek solace in the solitude of their minds. And they never knew a thing about BeReal. They just were.

Context appropriately outlined, let’s leapfrog 1500 years to land at the introduction of dopamine detoxing in 2019.

Coined by Silicon Valley Dr Cameron Sepah, the idea is derived from CBT techniques like ‘stimulus control’ and ‘exposure and response prevention’ that have some scientific validation. 

Ultimately, The goal of a dopamine detox, according to Sepah, is to “manage addictive behavio[u]rs, by restricting them to specific periods of time, and practi[s]ing fasting from impulsively engaging in them, in order to regain behavio[u]ral flexibility.”

A brief oversimplified explanation of dopamine seems appropriate here. It’s a hormone and neurotransmitter that (amongst many other things) carries signals from one place to another. When there’s a possible reward on the table – like food, drugs, or notifications – our brain picks up clues and a flash of dopamine zaps our reward pathways, as per Slate.

We then receive another hit of dopamine when the reward itself arrives. As we repeat this behaviour, our brain morphs in response, making it easier for us to repeat the cycle in the future. 

If you’re interested, we’ve written about (dis)habituation before.

While dopamine levels rise in response to pleasure, they don’t fall when you avoid overstimulation. So there’s no detoxification taking place at all. The phrase itself is a misnomer, the intention is not to detoxify the body of dopamine. It’s to change our behaviours which elicit dopamine. 

Consider it a form of hedonistic hygiene. We’re dopamine junkies if left unchecked. Substances and endeavours like caffeine, alcohol, social media, TV, drugs, nicotine, gambling, food, shopping, gaming and sex/ masturbation all cause the brain to release dopamine. Aimlessly ricocheting from one distraction to the next diminishes the joy we experience and swallows space in our schedule that could be used for productive means.

Unwittingly we clutch at neurochemical fixes to light up our brains as we sleepwalk across a paperchain of pleasure from dawn ‘til dusk. 

The key consideration is whether or not you view these behaviours as problematic. If you’re distressed by their frequency, impacted by the fact your time is spent on frivolity over productivity, or find yourself unable to stop, then a dopamine detox might not be a bad idea.

The idea goes that abstinence from these aforementioned substances and activities makes us more likely to regain autonomy over our actions and schedules.

Sepah suggests we introduce the “detox” or fast simply: between one and four hours at the end of the day; one day per weekend; one weekend per quarter; and one week per year. There’s no right amount. You need to find something that works for you. But it’s not a one-and-done activity. To benefit from this, your detox needs to be recurring.

He goes on to pointedly justify his idea, “If you can’t fit your work/ pleasure into 12-15 hours [per] day, I’d argue that you’re not very good at managing your time & energy.” That said, there’s nothing inherently problematic about any activity outlined in this email. Issues emerge if you castigate yourself for your behaviour and do nothing about it. A regular detox could be viewed as extreme, but it’s a potentially effective way to enhance your autonomy and force reflection.

So, what else to do if not waste, watch and wank? Sepah outlines the following as suggested activities:

• Health-promoting (exercise, cooking) 
• Leading (helping, serving others)
• Relating (talking, bonding over activities)
• Learning (reading, listening)
• Creating (writing, art)

Importantly, there’s no direct scientific evidence that a dopamine detox works. One study (Fei et al., 2021) states that the practice “has potential to be an effective approach that targets problematic habits and restores control over behavio[u]rs that bring pleasure to people’s daily lives.”

Through researching this piece I’ve found countless anecdotal experiences by people who’ve found the process to be beneficial. Modernity, with all its bells and whistles, conjures an endless stream of distractions that, if left unchecked, can plunder our consciousness. The desire to tap into our idiosyncratic thoughts/feelings, and connect with our unadulterated spirit, is one that’s been venerated for eons.

Of course, it’s easier to continue as things are, but are your actions and behaviours serving your performance? If they aren’t, extreme action may well be the logical way to rip yourself out of a habitual funk.

If you’re unhappy with the outputs, you’ve got to change – or remove – the inputs.