What Rats Can Teach Us About Anticipation

Making us wait isn't a bad thing.

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Partway through my morning coffee.

It’s now, thankfully, a distant memory. Many years ago, I gave up coffee for a while. I’ve blocked out for how long; the memory is too painful.

When I started drinking coffee again, I was so excited I’d go to bed thinking, Tomorrow morning, I get to have coffee!

Even now, the anticipation of coffee sends surges of excitement through my body. But when the anticipated cup is in front of me, even if I sip my coffee and avoid gulping it down, it’s always gone far too soon. A hint of the taste may linger on my tongue, fading moment to moment; the energizing effects may last for a few hours. But the deep richness and warmth of the coffee in my mouth are fleeting, leaving only the unsatisfying dregs of the actual experience.

As much as I enjoy my morning coffee, it’s my anticipation of the coffee that carries me through the night.

At first glance, you might think I enjoy that anticipation because it lasts much longer than the coffee itself. But it turns out there’s more to it: our brains are wired to enjoy anticipation.

Scientists used to think the neurotransmitter dopamine, associated with pleasure, was released when animals got rewards like food or sex. They later learned it was the anticipation of pleasure that elicited the feel-good dopamine response, much more than the anticipated experience itself.

This makes sense evolutionarily; we need to be motivated to seek out the things that will help us survive and reproduce, and dopamine motivates us. In humans (and this may be a case where we really do differ from other animals), this can include being motivated to do stuff that will lead to rewards in the distant future — even after our death.

Further research brought even more surprising shit to light. Dopamine went up when an animal anticipated a reward, as researchers had come to expect. But weirdly, it went up way more when the reward was uncertain. Just knowing you have a chance of getting a reward, but not being sure if you will, sends your dopamine through the roof. This may be in part because when a reward is uncertain, there’s always a chance that it might come when you least expect it — and it might be better than you’d expected.

You’re welcome: now you understand the appeal of slot machines.

Neuroendocrinologist Dr. Robert Sapolsky, author of a book I recommend, Determined, lays it out in this short video:

Dopamine has emerged as the culprit in discussions about addiction, whether it’s to gambling, drugs, shopping, or anything else. Does it explain my addiction to coffee? Probably. Dopamine makes it easier for us to get addicted to our smart phones and social media, which has some people worried that we’re getting too many dopamine hits in our modern world.

But the neurotransmitter has another, less sinister side. Despite the laughter in the Sapolsky video about humans deferring rewards to an imagined afterlife, the anticipatory factor of dopamine can support positive actions — like living according to the Seventh Generation principle that asks us to consider our impact on future generations. On a smaller scale, it can motivate us to do things like study a subject we’re interested in, hoping to become proficient in it. To practice an instrument, hoping to get to Carnegie Hall. To start a Substack and keep at it for years, hoping to improve our writing and attract more readers.

Last fall, I had the chance to spend a few days in Paris. The trip, which began with a short visit to Barcelona and a week in the Pyrenees, took a lot of planning, and I anticipated it eagerly for months. I’m now looking forward to another trip, and I’m excited it will also include a few days in Paris.

Anticipation is a big part of my enjoyment of these trips. Unlike coffee, trips to Europe are rare experiences for me. As with coffee, the anticipation lasts much longer than the experiences themselves.

It’s true that another piece of the enjoyment, lasting even longer than the anticipation, is the memory of the trips — which apparently releases both dopamine and serotonin, both associated with pleasure and happiness. We humans have a huge capacity for enjoying our memories. I’ll always have Paris.

This may be another way we differ from other animals; it’s likely they don’t have the luxury of stopping to think about the past, because they need to be more alert to potential dangers in the present.

Even in humans, not all things we anticipate lend themselves to fond memories. I might anticipate buying some shoes I’ve had my eye on for months, and I might enjoy them when I get them. But I’m not likely to spend much time thinking about them after they’re worn out and I’ve moved on to other shoes.

As compelling as fond memories are, it seems they’re not as widespread as anticipation.

That brings me back to rats — which I’ve written about the last couple weeks and which were the subject of many of those early dopamine studies.

People are still studying rats to learn about anticipation. The scientists teaching rats to drive cars, led by neuroscientist Dr. Kelly Lambert, noticed that the rats jumped up and down in anticipation of driving. That led them to devise experiments that tested rats’ responses to anticipation. They found that rats who were made to wait for rewards became more optimistic and got better at problem solving. And rats seemed to enjoy the journey of driving the cars as much as the destination of their treats.

What does this tell us about pleasure and happiness? As Sapolsky says in the video I shared, “dopamine is not about pleasure; it’s about the anticipation of pleasure. It’s about the pursuit of happiness rather than happiness itself.”

We’ve been told the pursuit of happiness can be counterproductive, keeping us looking to the future rather than living in the present. Paradoxically, learning to enjoy anticipation, which is about the future, can help us savor the present. It can free us from the ever-present modern lure of instant gratification.

Lambert concluded about her lab rats: “Instead of pushing buttons for instant rewards, they remind us that planning, anticipating and savoring the journey may be essential for a healthy brain. I taught rats to drive, but they taught me to enjoy the ride.”

She makes a good point. We humans love teaching rats to do unexpected things like driving cars. Maybe it’s time we turn the tables and learn a thing or two from the rats.