Addicted to the News
Mindfulness, Dopamine, and Reclaiming Attention in an Age of Clickbait
A reflection on a presentation by The Institute for Meditation and Psychotherapy with Jud Brewer & Sean Witty (Completed live 2026) recording can be found https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=un3SjWbCZi0&feature=youtu.be
We often say we’re “just staying informed.”
But sometimes what we’re really doing is refreshing.
Scrolling.
Clicking.
Checking one more headline before bed.
And then another.
In a recent talk hosted by The Institute for Meditation and Psychotherapy, Jud Brewer and Sean Witty explored something many of us quietly notice but don’t always name:
The news — and social media — can start to feel a lot like addiction.
Not because we’re careless or uninformed.
Because our brains are wired that way.
The Loop Beneath the Scroll
Brewer describes how the same neural loops that drive anxiety and addiction also drive our relationship with information.
When there’s uncertainty, our brain releases dopamine.
Not as a “pleasure chemical,” exactly — but as activation energy.
A seeking chemical.
It nudges us to:
find out what happened
check for updates
resolve uncertainty
close the loop
From an evolutionary standpoint, this made sense.
If you didn’t know whether there was danger nearby, curiosity kept you alive.
But now?
The “danger” is infinite headlines, breaking news alerts, and algorithmically engineered clickbait.
There is always another update.
Which means the loop never closes.
So we keep refreshing.
Not because we’re weak.
Because our nervous systems are trying to settle uncertainty.
The Trap of “Staying Informed”
Something they named felt especially familiar in my therapy room.
Many people fall into one of two extremes:
Information maximalism:
“I need to know everything.”
Constant consumption. Doom-scrolling. Sleepless nights.
Information minimalism:
“I can’t handle it — I’m avoiding all news.”
Temporary relief, often followed by guilt or disconnection.
Both are understandable.
And both can feel unsatisfying.
Because neither asks the deeper question:
What is this behavior actually doing for me?
A Question I Loved
One of the most helpful reframes from the talk was this:
Instead of asking
“How do I stop checking the news?”
Ask
“What am I getting from checking the news?”
Is it:
a sense of control?
distraction?
connection?
stimulation?
the dopamine hit of novelty?
relief from uncertainty?
When we get curious — not judgmental — we can start to see the behavior more clearly.
And often we become a little disenchanted.
Not because someone told us to stop.
But because we notice:
“This doesn’t actually feel good.”
That’s where change starts.
Mindfulness With Compassion
Another point that stayed with me:
Mindfulness alone isn’t enough.
We can watch ourselves scroll mindfully… and still keep scrolling.
Awareness without compassion can turn into self-criticism.
The invitation was gentler:
Notice the loop.
Understand what it’s doing for you.
Then offer yourself another pathway.
Something more regulating.
More connecting.
More restorative.
Not “don’t do this.”
But “what else might meet this need?”
A Callback to Attention
Listening to this talk felt deeply connected to what I wrote recently about How to Do Nothing and the attention economy.
Both point to the same quiet truth:
Our attention is precious.
And the world is competing for it constantly.
Choosing where our attention goes isn’t just productivity advice.
It’s nervous system care.
It’s mental health.
It’s agency.
In Therapy, This Often Looks Like…
Helping clients explore:
When do you check the news most?
What are you feeling right before?
How do you feel afterward?
Does it actually help?
What would “enough information” look like?
Sometimes it’s not about quitting.
It’s about boundaries.
Maybe:
checking once a day
choosing one trusted source
avoiding late-night consumption
balancing news with something restorative
or asking, “Do I need this right now?”
Less “as much as I can.”
More “as much as is helpful.”
A Gentle Reminder
Wanting to stay informed is human.
Caring about the world is beautiful.
But we don’t have to sacrifice our nervous systems to prove we care.
Sometimes the most sustainable form of engagement is:
learning what’s needed
and then putting the phone down.
Stepping outside.
Breathing.
Coming back to the present moment.
Because attention — like energy — is finite.
And we deserve to spend some of it on ourselves, too.
Staying Informed Without Burning Out: An Anti-Oppression Lens
There’s another layer here that feels important to name.
For many of us — especially those who care deeply about justice, equity, and collective well-being — stepping away from the news can feel complicated.
Sometimes even irresponsible.
Because staying informed isn’t just curiosity.
It can be about:
bearing witness
protecting vulnerable communities
understanding policy changes
advocating for rights
fighting the good fight
For people directly impacted by racism, transphobia, ableism, immigration policy, or violence, the news isn’t abstract.
It’s personal.
So the answer can’t simply be:
“Just unplug.”
Disengagement isn’t liberation either.
Avoidance can become its own form of privilege.
What I appreciated about Brewer and Witty’s framing — and what feels aligned with my work — is that the goal isn’t withdrawal.
It’s relationship.
Not:
consume everything
or
consume nothing
But:
be intentional.
Because there’s a difference between:
informed engagement
andcompulsive doom-scrolling
Between:
learning what helps you act
andflooding your nervous system until you’re immobilized
When we’re overwhelmed, we don’t organize.
We don’t advocate.
We don’t connect.
We shut down.
And burnout doesn’t help movements.
Sustainable people create sustainable change.
So sometimes the most justice-aligned question isn’t:
“How do I keep up with everything?”
It’s:
“What level of information actually supports me in showing up for my values?”
Maybe that looks like:
one trusted news source
checking at specific times
reading deeply instead of constantly refreshing
balancing hard news with community care
turning information into action when possible
Staying connected — without being consumed.
Because caring for your nervous system isn’t selfish.
It’s what allows you to keep caring at all.