The Cult of Meaning-Making: When Thinking Hijacks Feeling

In our fast-paced culture, thinking is often elevated as the highest human function—our prized problem-solver, meaning-maker, and escape hatch. But thinking, as necessary as it is, can become a trap. Especially when it overrides our capacity to feel.

Neuroscience tells us that emotions come first. Literally. We feel before we think. Research by Jaak Panksepp and Lucy Biven (2012) demonstrates that emotional experience arises from deep subcortical structures in the brain—what they call the “core self”—before the neocortex (the seat of conscious thought) even gets involved.

Yet when we feel overwhelmed, vulnerable, or dysregulated, we often reach for thinking as a shield. We lean into analysis, planning, interpreting—often without realizing we're doing it to avoid the raw intensity of emotion. This pattern shows up neurologically in the dominance of the left prefrontal cortex—what psychiatrist and philosopher Iain McGilchrist (2010) describes as the left hemisphere’s narrow, detail-focused grasp on the world.

McGilchrist’s work reveals that the left hemisphere, especially the top-left-frontal region, tends to "make meaning" even when it lacks full data. It creates interpretations to soothe uncertainty—even if the result is distorted, fragmented, or, frankly, wrong. It favors coherence over truth. It would rather invent an answer than admit it doesn't know.

And here’s the rub: the left brain doesn’t have direct access to the richness of lived experience. It depends on the right hemisphere—our embodied, relational, and emotionally attuned brain—for that. The left side is secondary. A translator. A map-maker, not a navigator. As McGilchrist puts it, “The right hemisphere sees the whole, the left sees the parts and confuses the map for the territory” (McGilchrist, 2010).

The danger is cultural as well as personal. A society dominated by left-brain modes of thought can become obsessed with control, explanation, and certainty. Feeling is dismissed as irrational. Intuition is sidelined. Opinion replaces embodied knowing. As a result, we become more reactive, less reflective—and more cut off from ourselves.

But there’s another way.

Like many in the fields of affective neuroscience and psychotherapy, I invite a return to the wisdom of the body. As developmental neuropsychologist Allan Schore (2012) suggests, we can "shift down and to the right"—from the high-speed highways of left-brain cognition to the slower, more relational terrain of the right hemisphere and subcortical brain.

This shift asks us to pause. To feel. To listen to our body’s signals—its tension, breath, heart rate, gut response—before rushing to interpret or explain. It’s in this space, Schore says, that self-regulation becomes possible. And once we’re regulated, the deeper wisdom stored in our emotional and somatic systems begins to rise.

Our nervous systems are not just reactive—they're adaptive. But they need time. Time to feel before we think. Time to notice before we narrate. Time to allow the truth of our experience to emerge from the inside out—not be forced from the top down.

So let’s resist the cult of premature meaning-making. Let’s be willing to not know for a little while longer. In that not-knowing, something truer may take shape.

References

• Panksepp, J., & Biven, L. (2012). The Archaeology of Mind: Neuroevolutionary Origins of Human Emotion. W. W. Norton & Company.

• McGilchrist, I. (2010). The Master and His Emissary: The Divided Brain and the Making of the Western World. Yale University Press.

• Schore, A. N. (2012). The Science of the Art of Psychotherapy. W. W. Norton & Company.

The Two Sides of Your Brain: Digital Life and Mental Well-being

Drawing from psychiatrist Iain McGilchrist's groundbreaking work, we can understand how modern technology affects our brain through its distinct hemispheric systems. The left hemisphere, primarily operating through dopamine pathways, has found its perfect match in social media and smartphone technology. Each notification, like, and scroll creates a small dopamine hit, feeding our left hemisphere's appetite for quick, predictable rewards.

This explains why we often find ourselves caught in cycles of compulsive phone checking and social media browsing. The left hemisphere's dopamine-driven nature craves these bite-sized pieces of digital stimulation, much like a slot machine that occasionally pays out. The fragmentary nature of social media—breaking life into discrete, manageable chunks of information—perfectly suits the left hemisphere's preference for categorization and control.

Meanwhile, the right hemisphere, regulated by noradrenaline, yearns for novel, real-world experiences that can't be reduced to pixels and likes. This hemisphere thrives on the unexpected, the contextual, and the embodied experiences that make life rich and meaningful. It's activated when we explore new places, engage in face-to-face conversations, or immerse ourselves in nature's unpredictability.

Practical Application for Digital Balance

To restore hemispheric harmony in our digital age, try this approach:

When you notice yourself caught in a social media loop, recognize it as your left hemisphere's dopamine-seeking behavior. Counter this by intentionally engaging your right hemisphere through novel experiences: take an unfamiliar route home, strike up a conversation with a stranger, or visit a new location without documenting it on social media.

Create "novel experience days" where you deliberately avoid digital devices and instead engage in activities that challenge your right hemisphere's noradrenaline system: explore a new hiking trail, attend a live music performance, or try cooking without a recipe. These experiences might feel less immediately rewarding than social media's dopamine hits, but they provide deeper, more sustained satisfaction.

Remember: while our devices cater brilliantly to our left hemisphere's dopamine-driven nature, our overall well-being depends on balancing this with right-hemispheric, noradrenaline-based experiences that connect us to the broader, richer context of life beyond our screens.