A few months ago, out of curiosity, I took a genetic test to trace my ancestry. The results mostly confirmed what I had already suspected: I was a blend of Eastern European and Ashkenazi Jewish heritage. Then came an offer to see a medical analysis of my DNA — an opportunity to learn about the bits of my genome that increase my risk of developing disease. Again, I was curious, but as I started ticking a series of boxes informing me that I could discover something upsetting, I suddenly thought to myself, “You know what? Never mind. I don’t have to know this.”
This decision was out of character. I always want to know things, preferably as soon as possible. After a job interview, I constantly refresh my inbox, impatient to hear back. But finding out if I get the gig sooner rather than just a few hours later changes very little.
Knowing my genetic risks and ways to mitigate them, however, is potentially life changing. So why was I so content to stay in the dark? As a neuroscience grad student, I decided to do a little digging to learn how humans can be so curious, yet simultaneously harbor such a love of ignorance.
The Story of Dopamine
As I searched through the science, it became clear that our desire to know things — or not — is closely tied with dopamine, the chemical messenger of the brain’s reward centers.
