How to Work Harder and Get Worse Results

A new study of (not-so) smart drugs

More than a decade ago (while working on my first book), I interviewed the head of a neurogenetics lab, and we got to talking about Ritalin.

We had been discussing variation in how people respond to stress. The scientist explained that some people are naturally very easily stimulated; when they take a test, give a speech, or engage in competition, their challenge is to stay relaxed so that they don’t get over-stimulated and anxious, resulting in diminished performance. Other people, he explained, are not easily aroused; their challenge is getting stimulated enough to reach peak performance.

The neurogeneticist told me that some of this difference between individuals had to do with levels of dopamine in the brain. (Dopamine is a neurotransmitter — a chemical that conveys messages between brain cells — and is involved in motivation, attention, mood, and the sense of reward we get from particular behaviors.) We talked about studies in which rodents that were bred to be low on a certain type of dopamine receptors would run compulsively, because physical activity boosted their dopamine levels. He likened it to kids with ADHD, who may compensate for low dopamine by moving a lot. Or, if given Ritalin, their dopamine levels increase and they won’t feel the drive to move around as much.

The conceptual upshot of all this, as I recall, was that individual differences in brain chemistry influence how people respond to stressful or stimulating situations, and to dopamine-altering drugs. If there is an ideal level of arousal and dopamine for each individual, the scientist told me, then it stood to reason that medication might help some people reach that level, and push others beyond it.

This conversation came back to mind recently as I was reading a new study of the “smart drugs” methylphenidate (a.k.a. Ritalin), dextroamphetamine (a component of Adderall), and modafinil, a stimulant that treats narcolepsy and has periodically made headlines when athletes or entrepreneurs use it (or dub it “Viagra for the brain”).

These drugs are thought to work, at least in part, by boosting levels of dopamine. So a team of scientists in Australia and the U.K. decided to see how the drugs — which are commonly used by people facing crunch time at school or work — would impact the problem-solving performance of subjects without ADHD or narcolepsy.

The research team had participants take an online test known as the “knapsack task,” in which one has to select items of varying weights and values to fill a knapsack. A problem-solver can test different combinations, and the goal is to maximize the value of items in the knapsack without exceeding its weight limit.

Every participant in the study made four visits to the lab, each a week apart, so that they could be tested (in randomized order) on each of the three drugs, and a placebo. The researchers hypothesized that “because of increased dopamine, the drugs would increase motivation and…cause an increase in effort expended on the task, which in turn would lead to higher performance.” They were half right.

On the drugs, people spent more time on the task and tested more different knapsack combinations. However, they performed worse at actually maximizing the value in the knapsack. In other words, they tried harder, but did worse. In science, the technical term for that is: LOL.

Seriously, though, to me, it reinforced what the neurogeneticist impressed upon me years ago: that there can be such a thing as too much dopamine, and that underlying individual differences matter. An intriguing detail in the study is that, when on the drugs, participants moved more items in and out of the knapsack, but the moves were “more random,” as opposed to being high quality moves. The increased randomness made the good problem-solvers worse, and the bad problem-solvers better.

I can still see a straightforward argument for people who don’t need those drugs wanting to use them. Say someone has to work on a task that isn’t particularly hard for them, it just takes a long time; perhaps a drug that increases motivation is worth it. But given results like this, maybe it’s not so smart to make simple assumptions about the effects of “smart” drugs, at least for people who don’t really need them.

For me, the larger conceptual takeaway (other than not to use drugs recklessly) is the same one I took from the conversation with the neurogeneticist more than a decade ago: the conditions that get me to the right level of arousal for peak performance are probably different than for you, and so it pays to try to be a scientist of yourself.

In the years since that conversation, I’ve become more attuned to my own ideal level of stimulation (i.e. my balance of nervous excitement vs. stoic calm) before conducting an interview or giving a talk. I’ve also paid more attention to my motivational and performance rhythms, and increasingly tried to mold my work environment to fit them.

This is just one small study on a pretty complicated topic, but it fits with a larger body of work which shows that, when people without the relevant medical condition take “smart drugs,” the impact on their cognitive performance is often a mix of positive and negative aspects, or sometimes (despite what they think) nonexistent. As usual: brains are messy.

This is also the first time in a while that I’ve done a short post in which I just think out loud about a single study that caught my attention. Let me know what you think of this kind of post in the comments. I always appreciate the feedback.

And if you found this interesting, please share it. That’s the only way Range Widely spreads.

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Thanks for reading. Until next time…

David