Creating vs consuming content

September 21st, 2024

Why creating feels so much better than consuming, from an evolutionary standpoint.

If you've ever spent three hours scrolling through social media and felt empty afterwards, or if you've spent an hour writing, building, or making something and felt energised, you've experienced something fundamental about human psychology. Creating content feels infinitely better than consuming it, and this isn't just personal preference. It's hardwired into our evolutionary biology.

For 99% of human history, we were makers, not watchers. Our ancestors didn't have feeds to scroll. They had tools to craft, shelters to build, fires to maintain, food to hunt and gather, stories to tell, songs to sing, and problems to solve. Every single day required active engagement with the world. You couldn't survive by passively observing. Survival meant creation: turning raw materials into useful things, transforming your environment to meet your needs, and contributing something tangible to your tribe.

This shaped our brains in a very specific way. The human brain evolved to reward creation because creation meant survival. When you successfully made a spear, built a shelter, or solved a problem, your brain flooded you with dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins. This wasn't just "feeling good." It was your brain saying: "Yes, this behaviour increases our chances of survival. Do more of this."

Now fast forward to today. We live in a world optimised for consumption. Infinite content streams. Algorithmic feeds designed to keep you watching. Platforms engineered to maximise your passive engagement. But here's the problem: your brain hasn't caught up. It still thinks you're a hunter-gatherer who needs to create to survive. So when you spend hours consuming, your brain doesn't give you the same rewards. It recognises that you're not actually doing anything. You're just... watching.

When you create something, whether it's writing a blog post, building a website, painting, cooking a meal, or even organising your room, your brain lights up in ways that passive consumption simply cannot replicate. Let's break down exactly why.

Competence and mastery:

Humans are hardwired to seek competence. When you create, you're actively developing a skill. You're solving problems, making decisions, and seeing tangible progress. Even if your first attempt is terrible, you're learning. Your brain registers this as growth, which triggers dopamine release. Example: a beginner coder writing their first "Hello World" program feels a rush of accomplishment because they've just proven to themselves that they can do something they couldn't do before. This is competence building, and it's deeply satisfying.

Contrast this with consumption. Watching someone else code for three hours might teach you a few things, but you haven't proven your own competence. You haven't struggled, failed, and overcome. Your brain knows the difference. It rewards action, not observation.

Agency and autonomy:

Creating gives you a sense of control. You decide what to make, how to make it, and when it's finished. This autonomy is psychologically crucial. In evolutionary terms, agency meant the ability to shape your environment and influence outcomes. Tribes that could adapt, innovate, and take initiative survived. Passive individuals who waited for things to happen didn't.

When you consume content, you're surrendering agency. The algorithm decides what you see. The creator decides what you watch. You're in a reactive state, not a proactive one. This might feel comfortable in the moment, but it's psychologically unsatisfying over time. Example: scrolling TikTok for an hour, you might laugh at a few videos, but afterwards, you often feel vaguely restless or unfulfilled. That's because you spent an hour reacting to stimuli without exerting any agency. Your brain recognises this as wasted potential.

Purpose and contribution:

Humans are social creatures. For hundreds of thousands of years, your survival depended on your tribe, and your tribe's survival depended on everyone contributing. When you created something useful (a tool, a solution, food, shelter), you weren't just helping yourself. You were helping the group. This gave your actions meaning beyond immediate personal gain.

This is why creating feels meaningful. When you write a blog post, record a video, build something, or share knowledge, you're contributing. Even if only one person reads it, you've added value to the world. Your brain recognises this and rewards you with a sense of purpose. Example: someone spends a weekend writing a guide on how to fix a common tech issue. A stranger finds it months later, follows the steps, and it solves their problem. The creator never meets this person, but the act of creation itself felt meaningful because it aligned with our evolutionary wiring to contribute.

Consumption doesn't offer this. Watching Netflix for six hours doesn't make you feel like you've contributed anything. You've received entertainment, but you haven't given anything back. This asymmetry creates a subtle sense of guilt or emptiness, especially when done excessively.

Identity and self-concept:

What you create becomes part of who you are. When you build something, write something, or make something, you're not just producing an output. You're expressing yourself. You're defining your identity. In evolutionary terms, the person known for being a skilled toolmaker, a great storyteller, or a reliable problem solver earned respect, status, and social bonds. Your reputation was built on what you did, not what you watched.

This is why creators often feel more confident and self-assured than pure consumers. Their identity is anchored in action. Example: someone who writes consistently for a year starts thinking of themselves as "a writer." This identity shift is powerful. It changes how they see themselves and how they approach challenges. A passive consumer, on the other hand, might spend a year watching writing tutorials but never write. They don't develop the identity, and therefore don't experience the psychological benefits.

The hedonic treadmill of consumption:

Consumption is subject to rapid diminishing returns. The first video is interesting. The tenth is okay. The hundredth feels hollow. This is because your brain adapts to passive stimuli quickly. What once felt novel becomes routine. You need more and more to achieve the same level of stimulation.

Creation, on the other hand, scales differently. The more you create, the more skilled you become. And as you become more skilled, the process becomes more satisfying. You're not chasing a high. You're building something cumulative. Example: a musician's first song might be clunky, but they still feel proud. Their tenth song is better. Their hundredth is genuinely good. Each iteration is more rewarding because they're seeing real progress. A music listener, however, experiences the opposite. After hearing thousands of songs, most new songs feel unremarkable. The novelty fades.

Modern content platforms are designed to exploit your brain's reward system. They've figured out how to deliver just enough dopamine to keep you scrolling, but not enough to leave you satisfied. It's a cycle of craving and partial reward. You watch one video, get a small hit, then immediately crave the next. But you never feel full.

Creating works differently. The dopamine release is delayed but more substantial. When you finish writing an article, completing a project, or solving a hard problem, the reward is genuine and lasting. It's the difference between eating junk food (quick, empty calories) and cooking a nutritious meal (takes effort, but leaves you satisfied).

We're living through an unprecedented experiment. Never before in human history have people spent so much time passively consuming. The average person spends over six hours a day on screens, most of it consuming content. This is an evolutionary mismatch of staggering proportions.

The consequences are visible: rising rates of anxiety, depression, feelings of meaninglessness, and existential drift. They're symptoms of a life spent consuming instead of creating. Your brain is telling you something's wrong because, from an evolutionary perspective, something is wrong. You're living in a way your biology never prepared you for.

So what do you do with this information? The answer is obvious but difficult: create more, consume less.

This doesn't mean you have to become a full-time artist or builder. It means finding small ways to create in your daily life. Write a journal entry. Cook a meal from scratch. Build something with your hands. Solve a problem at work. Teach someone something. Organise your space. Take a photo. Record a voice memo. Start a blog. Make a video. The medium doesn't matter. What matters is the act of creation itself.

And here's the beautiful part: the more you create, the easier it becomes. Your brain starts craving it. You'll notice that after a day of creating, you feel more energised, more confident, and more fulfilled than after a day of mindless consumption. This isn't random. It's your biology responding to what it was designed for.

You don't have to eliminate consumption entirely. Information, entertainment, and learning from others are all valuable. The key is balance. Aim for 80% creation, 20% consumption. Consume intentionally: read books, watch tutorials, learn from the best. But then close the app and build something with what you've learned.

If you find yourself scrolling for hours, ask: "Am I creating or consuming right now?" If the answer is consuming, stop. Open a blank page. Start typing. Build something. Anything.

We are, at our core, builders. We are makers, problem solvers, storytellers, and creators. This is what our brains are optimised for. Consuming content isn't inherently bad, but when it becomes your default state, you're living against your nature. You're denying yourself the psychological rewards that come from active engagement with the world.

The next time you feel that hollow emptiness after a long scroll session, remember: it's an evolutionary mismatch. Your brain is waiting for you to do what humans have always done best. Create.

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