In recent years, dopamine has become something of a buzzword—a fashionable concept invoked everywhere, usually in a negative sense, as something that is supposedly “damaging our brains.” There is no need to dwell on the biochemical details here. What matters is that this is not only about drugs, pornography, or social media. It also applies to how we explain the world.
At its core, the question is this: in what situations does the brain tell us, “Go after this—there is a reward waiting for you”? For some people, the brain nudges them toward complex explanations. These typically involve multiple interacting factors, feedback loops, and elements that cannot be directly measured. Ideally, such explanations are intricate but still comprehensible. When someone manages to grasp them, it brings a certain kind of satisfaction.
But there are also people whose brains push them in the opposite direction—toward very simple explanatory schemes. It’s the Russians. Or Putin. Or Netanyahu. Or Babiš. Or Jewish bankers. The pattern hardly matters; what matters is that the explanation is simple, familiar, and confirms what one already expects. When reality appears to line up neatly with these expectations—preferably without adding anything new—it produces its own kind of satisfaction.
Most people, of course, fall somewhere in between. In some areas they may prefer complexity, in others simplicity.
What is striking is that the dividing line does not seem to be IQ, nor political affiliation. The decisive factor appears to be what the brain has been trained on. Has it been conditioned to work with multi-variable, layered explanations—or with simple, ready-made narratives? In this sense, many of our contemporary conflicts are not only between conservatives and liberals, or nationalists and globalists, but also between those who are drawn to complex explanations and those who prefer simple ones.
A few years ago, I knew almost nothing about dopamine. But I understood this intuitively: one of the preconditions for any positive change is the emergence of a sufficiently large group of people both willing and able to understand more complex realities—and, crucially, to find satisfaction in doing so.
Today, such people might recognize that Benjamin Netanyahu is motivated in part by personal interests. But they will also see the role of long-term attitudes within Israeli society. They will take into account the deep internal divisions within Iran, the broader Sunni–Shia conflict, class tensions within oil-rich states, and the strategic rivalry between United States and China. They will factor in the complicated relationship between Iran and Russia, as well as the personality of Donald Trump. They may also note the influence of religious texts, the presence of both pro-Israel and pro-Muslim lobbying networks in the United States, and the historically complex alignment between Jewish communities and Protestant fundamentalists.
Reality is this complicated almost everywhere, including in our own country. Anything described in these notes is typically just one fragment of a much larger picture—including this very argument.
And yet many people cannot be persuaded of this—not because they lack intelligence, but because their brains prefer simple explanations and resist more complex ones.
The problem is that without grasping the broader picture, we inevitably end up supporting flawed policies and misguided strategies.
This is why the Jungmannova národní akademie exists. And why I write texts that eventually became Second Look. The aim is simple: to train the mind to take pleasure in complexity.
Including my own.