We've all been there - at the dinner table, or at a friend's place, or even just scrolling through YouTube videos of daredevils eating ridiculously spicy food. The question is: why on earth do we voluntarily subject ourselves to that fiery agony?
It seems counterintuitive when you consider that capsaicin, the active ingredient in chillies and other spicy foods, was originally designed by Mother Nature herself as an irritant to deter mammals from destroying plant seeds. In other words, our bodies are wired to respond to spicy food with a primal alarm signal - think of it like a fire alarm going off, activating our autonomic nervous system and causing all the classic symptoms of discomfort: tearing up, sweating, and that infamous runny nose.
But despite this initial reaction, some people have developed a taste for the heat. And what's behind this? According to Liam Browne, an associate professor at UCL who specializes in the neuroscience of sensory perception and pain, it all comes down to how our brains learn to process and respond to painful stimuli.
"You see, research suggests that when we first experience something spicy, our brain is initially overwhelmed by the sensation," he explains. "But over time, our peripheral response desensitizes, and our brain starts to learn that this stimulus is actually safe. That shift in prediction and certainty is a big part of why the experience becomes tolerable - and then rewarding."
This process is often referred to as 'tolerance', but Browne suggests that it's not just about getting used to the heat; it's also about reappraising the meaning behind the pain itself. "Think of it like watching scary films or going on rollercoasters - sometimes called 'benign masochism'," he says. "We're essentially reframing the experience, telling ourselves that it's safe and under control."
And this logic extends beyond spicy food to other unpleasant experiences, too. When we push through the initial pain of something like running, cold showers or hot saunas, our bodies release endorphins - which essentially turn those initially painful activities into a mild sort of high.
So what do you do if someone invites you out for wings and you're not feeling up to it? The key is to know how capsaicin works. Since it's fat-soluble and hydrophobic, water will just leave it be, while milk or other dairy products can bind to the capsaicin and carry it away.
And if all else fails, there's an even tastier option: mint ice cream. Not only does it provide the necessary fat and protein to bind with the capsaicin, but it also triggers our TRPM8 receptors - which signal coolness and can take the edge off that burning sensation.
So next time you're invited out for a spicy meal or activity, just remember: it's not just about the heat itself - it's also about the cultural ritual, the social bonding, and the sense of mastery and control.
It seems counterintuitive when you consider that capsaicin, the active ingredient in chillies and other spicy foods, was originally designed by Mother Nature herself as an irritant to deter mammals from destroying plant seeds. In other words, our bodies are wired to respond to spicy food with a primal alarm signal - think of it like a fire alarm going off, activating our autonomic nervous system and causing all the classic symptoms of discomfort: tearing up, sweating, and that infamous runny nose.
But despite this initial reaction, some people have developed a taste for the heat. And what's behind this? According to Liam Browne, an associate professor at UCL who specializes in the neuroscience of sensory perception and pain, it all comes down to how our brains learn to process and respond to painful stimuli.
"You see, research suggests that when we first experience something spicy, our brain is initially overwhelmed by the sensation," he explains. "But over time, our peripheral response desensitizes, and our brain starts to learn that this stimulus is actually safe. That shift in prediction and certainty is a big part of why the experience becomes tolerable - and then rewarding."
This process is often referred to as 'tolerance', but Browne suggests that it's not just about getting used to the heat; it's also about reappraising the meaning behind the pain itself. "Think of it like watching scary films or going on rollercoasters - sometimes called 'benign masochism'," he says. "We're essentially reframing the experience, telling ourselves that it's safe and under control."
And this logic extends beyond spicy food to other unpleasant experiences, too. When we push through the initial pain of something like running, cold showers or hot saunas, our bodies release endorphins - which essentially turn those initially painful activities into a mild sort of high.
So what do you do if someone invites you out for wings and you're not feeling up to it? The key is to know how capsaicin works. Since it's fat-soluble and hydrophobic, water will just leave it be, while milk or other dairy products can bind to the capsaicin and carry it away.
And if all else fails, there's an even tastier option: mint ice cream. Not only does it provide the necessary fat and protein to bind with the capsaicin, but it also triggers our TRPM8 receptors - which signal coolness and can take the edge off that burning sensation.
So next time you're invited out for a spicy meal or activity, just remember: it's not just about the heat itself - it's also about the cultural ritual, the social bonding, and the sense of mastery and control.