The tendency to avoid discomfort and uncertainty has allowed humans to evolve from contexts of severe resource scarcity and constant exposure to predators. And assuming the premise that humans are biologically motivated to propagate our genetic lineage, it would only make sense that our inherited systems of sensation have been trained to identify threats that could compromise our survival. 

However, it seems that nobody has been able to adjust the datasets, which are now catastrophically outdated, on which these sensory response systems were trained. A text notification can ignite an adrenaline surge proportional to that in the presence of a predator, and even inconsequential interpersonal conflicts send survival circuitry into overdrive. 

These overcorrections are not entirely useless, but in a condition where convenience and comfort are the standard, these somatic responses are more often than not misplaced—they mobilize us for threats that never arrive and imagine problems that no longer exist. Here, it is also necessary to remember that we are not only driven for preservation but also optimization. 

We optimize and repurpose this skill set by manufacturing self-imposed challenges like training for marathons, cold exposure, and ice baths, learning new languages, daily crossword puzzles, getting a certification in a new field, and so on. Through goal-oriented pursuits, we activate the mesolimbic dopamine system, which releases dopamine in response to anticipation of reward or achievement. I would predict that most people have heard quite a bit about dopamine lately, but its evolutionary utility cannot be undermined. The hedonic response triggered by dopamine release is what motivates us to reinforce the behavior that led to it. Dopamine optimization keeps us in an active state.  

All of this supplements the central argument that we are evolutionarily designed to engage with discomfort, and in doing so, we preserve our sense of purpose. The threat that we face today is not the byproduct of discomfort but that capital thrives on diminishing it.

Most utilities designed in the last century have been created in part to alleviate inconvenience or remove the space between times of comfort- the internet to remove the space between asking a question and getting an immediate answer, appliances to remove the space between things being dirty and becoming clean again, social media to remove the space between loneliness and the idea of connection, pre-packaged hard-boiled eggs because we are not guaranteed the time to even boil water, food delivery apps, robot vacuums, autocorrect, (somewhat) self-driving cars, "jump to recipe" buttons and so on- all useful shortcuts to bandage the systemic bias toward productivity over personal downtime (and mental stability). And all of which distance us further from our innate drive for purpose and reward. 

It is also important here to distinguish between discomfort and suffering. As alluded to above, feelings of discomfort are active primal responses designed to keep us alive. As responses, they cannot be permanent conditions, therefore feelings of discomfort are temporary.

Conversely, suffering is a passive chronic condition-state in which either 1) you are not responding 2) or your response does not exceed the threshold. Suffering is a product of complacency and discomfort is what you have to endure to walk away from it. 

For example, exercise is a form of discomfort. Being unhealthy is a form of suffering. We exercise to avoid the suffering that comes with long-term debilitation. Doing the laundry is a form of discomfort. Having endless piles of dirty clothes on the floor is suffering. Hopefully, we do the laundry. Ending a relationship is a form of discomfort. Being committed to the wrong relationship is a form of suffering. So, we must walk towards discomfort in order to walk away from suffering. 

This is supported by Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning, which argues that human drive is not for pleasure or power but for meaning, and we derive meaning from our sense of purpose. We don't pursue pleasure itself; rather, we pursue the uncomfortable, effortful conditions that generate a dopamine response. Pleasure, in this sense, is not the goal but a corollary of deliberate challenge.

Enduring discomfort actively keeps us alive, and this is why outsourcing it as a market opportunity is ultimately disabling one of our most important evolutionary skills. Our capacity to endure discomfort requires routine exposure, and without it, tolerance decays and reactivity increases. This is why spending months isolated at home weakens the ability to naturally converse in public spaces, and standing in line feels impossible for people who never lived before mobile ordering apps. 

Modern capitalism doesn't just worship efficiency and the removal of discomfort but the ability to make it look effortless as well. A deepening narrative insists that productivity should be rapid but appear seamless, and as sustained attention continues to atrophy, this expectation has become non-negotiable. It is far less profitable to make a 15-minute YouTube tutorial that exposes how much effort is required than it is to make a 60-second TikTok, where complexity collapses into instantaneous reward. 

It's also interesting to me how this has influenced personal aesthetics; where once there was an emphasis on high-resolution, high-contrast photos, there's now a growing preference for grainy, zoomed-in images that resemble the effortless look of candid family videos. Perhaps that is more related to an affinity for nostalgia than anything else.

Nevertheless, these conditions carry implications that go beyond mere capital maximization, conceivably creating a climate that discourages initiative altogether. Understandably, people are learning to avoid the discomfort of trying, but especially the discomfort of being seen trying. I wonder if this is why the tone of Timothée Chalamet's SAG Award speech was regarded as so off-putting or overconfident by many viewers. He was sincere, vulnerable, and strikingly straightforward

"I can't downplay the significance of this award [...] the truth is, I'm really in pursuit of greatness. I know people don't usually talk like that, but I want to be one of the greats. I'm inspired by the greats. I'm inspired by the greats here tonight. I'm as inspired by Daniel Day-Lewis, Marlon Brando, and Viola Davis as I am by Michael Jordan, Michael Phelps, and I want to be up there. So I'm deeply grateful. This doesn't signify that, but it's a little more fuel. It's a little more ammo to keep going."

The reason I appreciated Timothée Chalamet's speech is the same as why I have admired Kevin Durant, and Lionel Messi, and Ayrton Senna- they emphasized the hard work necessary to endure discomfort to achieve greatness and by doing so, they implicitly acknowledge that they didn't just start out at the top. They invested decades of deliberate effort and bear the humility to admit it- a notably rare occurrence for Durant. 

The fear of being seen trying, at the level of preservation, is, too, another primal response to discomfort. Social isolation historically indicated imminent death- and because we've broadly come to believe that people will like us less if we care too much about what drives us or what people think of us- in order to safeguard our sense of belonging, we downplay our efforts or surrender to inaction together…simply put, we suffer. We have an innate biological drive to endure and achieve greatness if only we can preserve what's left of the systems that reinforce our motivation to do so. 

I could list pages of caveats for this subject matter, but my purpose in discussing discomfort and suffering in this context is not to disregard the constraints of systems that fail people or the systems intentionally put in place so that specific people will fail. It should not be up to the individual to overcome what has been strategically designed to promote dependence. 

Enduring discomfort only cultivates meaning, connection, and agency when it is not imposed on the individual, and the danger lies in designing systems that eliminate all difficulty without addressing the asymmetries that make difficulty unbearable in the first place. Thus, this form of agency is a luxury, while those without it rely on tools of efficiency not for convenience but for survival. It's a familiar narrative that automation brings serious consequences, but the risks go beyond eroding our tolerance for discomfort or our capacity to perform basic tasks. More critically, automation risks erasing the urgency to address the systemic conditions that make those tools necessary in the first place.