If ‘dopamine fasting’ means hiding the remote control, finding it again might be a bit tricky

OK kids, hang onto your hats – we’re about to get a new craze and it might be just the distraction we need while the country slides into yet another month of hyper insanity.

The new thing is “dopamine fasting”. As anyone with access to Google will know, dopamine is one of the chemicals in the brain that transmits pleasure, be that from doing a bit of yoga, finding a leftover sausage under the grill, or cleaning the grout in your bathroom with that special bit of kit you bought off the internet.

Typically, because we live in a hairshirt society and can’t be left to get on with having a good time in case we get used to it, the techies in Silicon Valley have taken to “dopamine fasting” in an effort to reset the chemicals in their brain to accept less stimulation.

At this point I should probably point out that these are the kind of people who get their kicks from starting work at 5am after a two-hour vertical hike up a mountain and snorting a line of chia seeds, but that’s beside the point: the point is, they are occasionally treating themselves to 24 hours of simply “doing nothing”.

I know, when I first heard this I thought, excellent, I’m very much up for a day in bed watching Talking Pictures and finishing my Ann Patchett – huzzah, 24 hours of guilt-free slobbing, of staying in my pyjamas all day and not going anywhere near my computer.

Unfortunately, according to tech valley rules, I don’t take my slobbing seriously enough, because “dopamine fasting” takes “doing nothing” to a whole new level. Think back (if you can) to Sunday afternoons in the 1970s when there was nothing to do but sit on a wall and stare into space – that’s the kind of zero dopamine levels we’re after. I think in the old days it used to be called being “bored out of your skull”.

Ah but, hold on, dopamine fasting is much more hardcore than 1970s-style Sundays because you’re not even allowed your Sunday dinner. No gravy, no roasties. Though I think you can drink tap water.

This is where “dopamine fasting” trumps its “digital detox” predecessor. Apparently these days it’s not enough to switch off your phone and laptop; you have to switch everything off.

Hmm. I’m rapidly going off this idea. The no work, no phones, no sex and no exercise bit I can handle, but no telly, no reading, eating or drinking seems a bit excessive. Hardcore followers will also forgo eye contact and conversation, because chatting can get the old pleasure receptors buzzing. Personally I’d say that depends on whom you’re talking to. Bumping into an old mate in Sainsbury’s and having a good bitch will raise my dopamine levels through the roof, but I get absolutely zero pleasure from talking to the people who phone me three times a day to tell me my BT broadband has been compromised. Unless of course I get them to hang up on me first, in which case I’ve won and I’m as high as a kite.

But fine, I’m happy not to chat, and I can easily hide my phone and the remote control though finding them again might be a bit tricky, and I promise not to read, but even if I get up really late there’s a whole lot of day left in which to do what?

Well, napping is allowed and I’m really brilliant at that. I often lie down on the bed at 4pm and wake up just in time for The Archers, but even I can’t nap all day, so what else am I allowed to do?

Oh, I can meditate. Only I can’t. Have you ever tried clearing your head? It’s impossible and if you do manage just for a second to empty it of everything, then this is when the horrors come piling in, all the massive fears and niggling doubts – the moment when, if you weren’t on a dopamine fast, you could quickly turn on the telly in time for Four in a Bed and distract yourself by watching grown adults search bathrooms for single dust motes and stray pubic hairs.

Of course, as with everything there is a sensible middle ground to all this nonsense – there’s always the option of spending a few hours a day going “dopamine light”. This could mean taking a bath without having the news on in the background, or watching a TV programme without feeling the need to simultaneously tweet about it or even going for a walk without listening to a podcast.

Hell, next Sunday I might take some proper time off and go and sit on a wall somewhere and enjoy a couple of hours feeling completely and utterly bored out of my skull. Now, that should reset my dopamine levels back to factory settings, as long as I’m home in time for a roast dinner and the Strictly results.