The term "lizard brain" refers to the amygdala and basal ganglia. Most commonly referred to as the brain stem, particularly the oldest part called the R-complex or reptilian complex. This area is responsible for primitive survival instincts and functions like:
- Fight-or-flight responses
- Territorial behavior
- Basic drives related to hunger and reproduction
- Breathing and heart rate regulation
The nickname "lizard brain" comes from the evolutionary theory that this brain region evolved first in reptiles and has been preserved throughout evolution into mammals and humans.
And despite developing more complex brain structures like the limbic system and neocortex that enable higher reasoning and emotional processing, this primitive "lizard brain" still operates underneath it all, managing our most basic survival functions.
Ancient Hardware And Modern Software
I sometimes think a lot about what people call the "lizard brain", specifically how it's still the main player in how we interpret an experience.
Let's start with what it does. The lizard brain doesn't care about the latest TikTok trend, doesn't know a tweet from a text message, it reacts all the same.
It sees a threat(real or imagined)and it reacts accordingly based on its predisposition at that moment.
The trouble is, modernity doesn't dish out threats like the wild did. I'm not facing down a bear or a rival tribesman with a spear.
More often than not, I'm facing a passive-aggressive email or an unexpected bill. Still, my lizard brain doesn't know the difference.
The Great Mismatch
This mismatch of not knowing the difference is where it gets interesting. Modern life is a barrage of triggers—notifications, traffic, 24/7 news cycles—that my lizard brain interprets as threats.
It's not necessarily wrong to react, just outdated, in the sense that these stimuli rarely require the full physiological emergency response my body prepares for.
That same instinct, however, sharpens my focus when I'm racing a deadline or pushes me to dodge a cyclist barreling down the sidewalk.
Given it's not all bad, one could argue this ancient wiring still very much serves us in contexts our evolutionary ancestors never imagined.
Not so interestingly, our collective perception of modern life is tinged with these primal echoes.
For me, this is obvious, since I catch myself catastrophizing minor setbacks rather than viewing it for what it likely is, just a setback.
Ever wonder why fear-based headlines spread like wildfire? They hook right into that survival wiring, loudly screaming danger! until we can't look away.
I think social media algorithms are the most sophisticated version of predator-prey dynamics we've ever created.
They're basically fine-tuned experts at exploiting our lizard-brain need for belonging and validation, through making likes and retweets the modern equivalent of tribal acceptance.
Finding A Middle Ground
So what's the solution? I can't exactly evict this ancient tenant from my brain, obviously.
The second best thing is probably getting a translator between our reptilian impulses and modern realities, with the aim of newer brain structures having the time to engage and provide context before the primitive response takes full control.
For example, a flush of fear or anger could be routed through a moment of conscious awareness, then pause and ask: "Is the lizard brain talking here?"
That pause and recognition alone creates space for more evolved reasoning to step in and evaluate the actual threat level of the situation.
Sometimes the lizard is just too loud and this approach doesn't always work. But this awareness can aid in navigating modern triggers with slightly more clarity.
My lizard brain hasn't come to terms with modernity. Perhaps, it never will.
But I can come to terms with it, through recognizing its intentions and contextualizing its impulses towards a more balanced existence in this complex world we've created.
Thanks for reading!! Share your thoughts below on the comments.
Thanks for the curation, I appreciate it :)