What Era of Art Are We In? Dopamine RUSH
Dopamine Hits vs Cathartic Resolution
This is more or less a bite-sized version of what I’ll go into further detail on. This isn’t going to have all the editorial polish that a topic like this deserves — yet. But I do want to open up a discussion by introducing a concept I’ve been thinking about: Dopamine Rush Art.
Today is Monday, a day set aside to evaluate my content strategy for the week and adjust my creators' priorities. And as I sit in my favorite coffee shop this morning, thinking about what I should make, my thoughts wander into observations about the artistic climate, what people want, and the kind of “art” they’ve been acclimated into consuming — which leads me to the ultimate question: “What era of art, or art movement, have we found ourselves in?”
(Yes, I know this is a very obvious thought spiral, but that’s just how my mind works.)
Let's first define what an artistic movement is:
“An artistic movement is a collective style or philosophy in art that emerges within a specific time period, often in response to cultural, social, political, or technological changes. It typically involves a group of artists who share common principles, techniques, or themes, working together to challenge or redefine artistic conventions. Examples include Impressionism, Surrealism, Dadaism, and Abstract Expressionism—each reflecting distinct aesthetic goals and ideological perspectives.”
It’s been a favorite activity of mine since university to take really heady artistic thought or history and trivialize it into something I find personally amusing (maybe one day, I’ll give you my version of moments in classic art history). So, my definition of “an artistic movement” is: what all the cool kids are doing.
It’s very hard to define what “era” of art you’re in while you’re in it. Only the super pretentious claim to have the definitive definition of their own era of art. That should be left to the art historians — but I’m in tons of film school debt, so whatever — I’m gonna be that guy.
We’re in an era that I call “Dopamine Rush Art,” and it’s the direct antithesis to art that brings catharsis.
This is all based on the concept of a dopamine hit:
“A ‘dopamine hit’ refers to a quick surge of dopamine, a neurotransmitter associated with pleasure, motivation, and reward. It often describes the instant gratification people get from activities like social media notifications, junk food, shopping, or drugs. These small bursts of dopamine create a temporary sense of pleasure or satisfaction, which can sometimes lead to compulsive behaviors or addiction if someone starts chasing those hits constantly.”
Platforms guide media consumption habits. Both the platform and the way you consume media guide (or straight up dictate) your consumption habits and tastes. And right now, social media and digital platforms dominate how we consume.
“Media consumption is now dominated by digital platforms, with over 5.56 billion internet users spending an average of 25% of their day online. Social media is a major driver, with YouTube leading at 2.68 billion users, followed by TikTok at 1.06 billion. Mobile devices account for the majority of media engagement, averaging 3 hours and 41 minutes daily. Streaming services and smart TVs are also on the rise, reshaping traditional media habits. In the U.S., YouTube and Facebook remain dominant, while in India, TikTok’s ban has shifted users to YouTube Shorts and Instagram Reels.”
And those platforms benefit from “compulsive” overconsumption. These apps want you to stay on their platform (and consume ads). So, they’re really clever in devising ways for you to do so — which all comes down to “brain hacking.” Increasingly shorter lengths of time culminate in a fast hit — a fast feeling — a hot girl, a funny meme, etc. With every swipe, you feel good, and you crave the next swipe. Enter the doom scroll.
As the platforms have become more successful in farming revenue from “the doom scroll,” they’ve become even more efficient at encouraging it. And this dictates what kind of content artists find success in creating. This has driven a trend in art where microwaved content is more rewarding than slow-cooked art. And to feed the beast, artists need to create more FASTER NOW.
And we’ve gotten damn good at it. The traditional approaches have all but fallen to the wayside. Instead of a climatic build, we rely on “forwards” (giving you the good part first), and videos fixate on “retention editing.”
Our goals now are to maintain “retention,” and we have one second to do it — or abandon retention and create mass content. We either need to get you to stay, or flood your feed with a billion .8-second videos. It’s demanding, as we have to create a relentless flood of “content.”
Quality must be abandoned for QUANTITY. But even still, the best of us try to be creative — but it leaves us resorting to other “brain hacking” techniques. We have to be PROVOCATIVE. We have to use every artistic power to punch your neurons fast and hard.
We can’t leave you at ease or rest. We have to keep you wanting
more FASTER NOW.
It’s insatiable.
I’ve had to relearn how to edit. I can’t leave cuts truly “resolved.” I cut motion to drive you to the next cut, in a style that’s nothing more than visual edging.
Those trends aren’t necessarily bad — if woven into a cathartic format. But in a space of overconsumption, it almost literally fires your brain. It leaves you anxious, uneasy…unable to rest. And I have yet to prove this correlation, but I think it is partly responsible for the rise of anxiety and inability to cope...
ULTIMATELY, the dopamine rush effect pushes artists to create easily consumable “content” that delivers 3-second dopamine hits — this TikTok, Vine-era content. Reels, Shorts, and TikToks shorten the attention span of audiences, who become trained to seek quicker and quicker hits. This engineered rush isn’t meant to satisfy or fulfill but to propel the audience toward the next hit, creating a habit of emotional coping that offers no real peace, rest, or resolution.
Like it or not, this is the style of art that DOMINATES the culture. And I think this is the literal antithesis of the true value and power of art — the cathartic moment.
What is catharsis? The answer to that question is still up for interpretation (apparently).
“Catharsis is the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions. The term originates from the Greek word katharsis (κάθαρσις), meaning ‘purification’ or ‘cleansing,’ and was first used by Aristotle in his Poetics to describe the emotional effect of tragedy on an audience. Its exact definition is debated — some interpret it as a psychological release, while others see it as a moral or intellectual clarification, making it a contested concept in literary, psychological, and philosophical discussions.”
My definition is a bit of both (for reasons that I can get into later, as I think the later definition challenges the notion of “art for art’s sake”… and that's a whole other discussion). Suffice it to say, for this discussion, I lean heavy on catharsis as a process for emotional release.
To me, a cathartic moment is a moment of emotional release that leaves you with some manner of mental, emotional, or spiritual resolution or reflection — after which, you can rest easy, at least for a moment.
We as people NEED those moments. Without them, we’re left in a really dark place, consumed by our own thoughts and anxieties. Let’s not confuse this definition with “uplifting” content. The kinds of release are nearly infinite and can vary in form and function. A horror film can be a release simply because it drives you to stir up an overabundance of chemicals that produce fear — explore them, and “purge” them. They’re a safe place to explore fear and terror… ultimately getting all that out of your system so it doesn’t flood your brain without your direct consent. (That being said, I do think most horror movies are stupid, but that’s another conversation. This is just an example.)
But creating those moments is a practiced art form. Creating the ebbs and flows of experience is a craft (a beautiful craft, which, in exploring, helps one truly understand the intricacies of humanity).
Catharsis takes time. It’s a crafted experience that guides the audience through emotional immersion to achieve catharsis and emotional resolution. However, as audiences become addicted to the dopamine rush, they lose the patience to seek true catharsis. Catharsis is also not commercially preferred because at the end of that moment, the audience no longer craves the content — they are, for a moment, fulfilled.
So where does that leave us? Artists today are caught in a conflict. Do we create for the “dopamine rush” effect, or catharsis?
I think it is the responsibility of the modern artist to reacclimatize audiences to catharsis, for the preservation of both art and the audience. I believe the calling of the artist is to help those who trust us with their time find cathartic resolution — not just a feel-good moment, happy ending, or dopamine hit, although those are important. We help articulate feelings, thoughts, and experiences in ways that others feel incapable of, creating pathways of empathy, understanding, and resolution.
As a statement of optimism, I think the trend of the dopamine rush will lead to a new era of rediscovering the power of cathartic art. Slow-moving works crafted together in incredible movements that lead to beautiful resolutions. People can only handle the strain of this for so long, and artists can only maintain this for so long (although many are resorting to AI “derivative art” to keep pace).
For the artists out there — stay true. We have to invest in the skills of the dopamine rush to keep the bills paid (as this is a movement driven by tech bros and advertisers who have the money — for now). But keep your compass pointed at Catharsis. The world is learning the hard way what the true value and power of art is.
The next movement will be a revival of CATHARSIS.
What are your thoughts? Let’s discuss!
AI ETHICS STATEMENT:
This article was proofread using ChapGTP and included to AI images generated in substack.
I was just having this conversation with a friend. The way things are set up right now, so many of us are spending more time trying to get people to see our art than we are actually making it. It’s wild. The world makes it harder to just be an artist without turning yourself into a “content creator”.
As a writer this is especially frustrating, because writing takes time. Not everyone can spit out books in a month. I’ve tried speeding up my novel writing process and learned quickly that was a no go for me.