The Molecule of More

party will stay in your memory longer than the name of the person 
who ignored you. So will the name of the man who told you to set up 
an appointment to see him because he wants to give you a job—and 
his name will stick with you even more reliably if you’re unemployed. 
Similarly, male rats remember the correct route through a maze more 
easily if there is a sexually receptive female at the other end. Sometimes 
the intensity of focus can be so great that your attention will get stuck 
on things that don’t matter at the expense of things that do. A man who 
had a Beretta 9mm handgun pointed at his face during a robbery was 
asked to describe his assailant. He said, “I don’t remember his face, but 
I can describe the gun.”
Under more normal conditions, though, dopamine activation in 
the desire circuit triggers energy, enthusiasm, and hope. It feels good. 
In fact, some people spend the majority of their lives pursuing this 
feeling—a feeling of anticipation, a feeling that life is about to get bet-
ter. You’re about to eat a delicious dinner, see an old friend, make a big 
sale, or receive a prestigious award. Dopamine turns on the imagina-
tion, producing visions of a rosy future.
What happens when the future becomes the present—when the 
dinner is in your mouth or your lover is in your arms? The feelings 
of excitement, enthusiasm, and energy dissipate. Dopamine has shut 
down. Dopamine circuits don’t process experience in the real world, 
only imaginary future possibilities. For many people it’s a letdown. 
They’re so attached to dopaminergic stimulation that they flee the pres-
ent and take refuge in the comfortable world of their own imagination. 
“What will we do tomorrow?” they ask themselves as they chew their 
food, oblivious to the fact that they’re not even noticing this meal they 
had so eagerly anticipated. To travel hopefully is better than to arrive is the 
motto of the dopamine enthusiast.
The future isn’t real. It’s made up of a bundle of possibilities that 
exist only in our minds. Those possibilities tend to be idealized—we usu-
ally don’t imagine a mediocre outcome. We tend to think about the best 

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34
THE MOLECULE OF MORE
of all possible worlds, and that makes the future more attractive. On the 
other hand, the present is real. It’s concrete. It’s experienced, not imag-
ined, and that requires a different set of brain chemicals—the H&Ns, the 
here-and-now neurotransmitters. Dopamine makes us want things with 
a passion, but it’s the H&Ns that allow us to appreciate them: the flavors, 
colors, textures, and aromas of a five-course meal, or the emotions we 
experience when we spend time with people we love. 
WANTING VERSUS LIKING
The transition from excitement to enjoyment can be challenging. 
Think of buyer’s remorse, the sense of regret that occurs after making 
a big purchase. Traditionally it has been attributed to the fear of hav-
ing made the wrong choice, guilt over extravagance, or a suspicion of
having been too influenced by the seller. In fact, it’s an example of the 
desire circuit breaking its promise. It told you that if you bought that 
expensive car you’d be overcome with joy, and your life would never be 
the same. Except, once you became its owner, those feelings were nei-
ther as intense nor as long lasting as you had hoped. The desire circuit 
often breaks its promises—which is bound to happen, because it plays 
no role in generating feelings of satisfaction. It is in no position to make 
dreams come true. The desire circuit is, so to speak, just a salesman.
As we anticipate a desired purchase, our future-oriented dopamine 
system is activated and creates excitement. Once possession is achieved, 
the desired object moves from the look up extrapersonal space to the