We don’t find pleasure in consuming extremely hot foods directly from the oven, even though the sensations delivered by this searingly hot food and chilli are exactly the same. Both work on the same receptors and nerves. But we can’t even think of chemically burning our tongue. Then why do millions of people globally, happily, even eagerly, look out for the spiciest dishes that set their tongue on fire and bring tears to their eyes? This seems to be exceptional for humans. None of the mammals on this planet is known to share this similar fondness for chilli. While birds do eat it, they don’t have the receptor that responds to capsaicin. People who love chilli are not immune to the pain. When you ask them, why? This much spicy—the possible answer will be “it just opens up all my pores, and tears roll down from my eyes, but I love it”. For some, biting into a fiery chilli is pure torture. For others, it’s an irresistible thrill.
But why, the answer lies in the fascinating neuroscience of chilli — a story of how our brains interpret capsaicin, release endorphins, and create a cycle of pain and pleasure that keeps us coming back for more.
The fiery sensation we get from chilli doesn’t come from taste in the usual sense. Then from what? The protagonist is capsaicin, the bioactive compound found in chilli peppers. Whenever we savour something spicy, capsaicin binds with the TRPV1 receptors present in the mouth. TRPV1 is a receptor usually responsible for sensing physical heat or abrasion. So, even though the food isn’t literally burning the tongue, the signals are interpreted by the brain as if it were real fire. This explains why consuming a raw chilli might feel hotter than a pot of boiling water because the brain has been convinced that danger is near.
Once the burning signal is received by the brain, it immediately tries to protect you. And that’s when things get interesting in response to the perceived “pain,” the brain starts releasing your endorphins, a natural painkiller and a feel-good hormone. Alongside this, dopamine — the neurotransmitter known for generating the sense of pleasure and reward — gets activated.
This results in a wave of relief, trifling euphoria, and even happiness after the burn subsides. This is what people refer to as chilli high.
This cycle of pain trailed by reward creates what psychologists describe as a pain-pleasure loop. Initially, people endure the sting of heat. Then, the brain rewards by releasing endorphins, dopamine, and even enkephalin. The contrast between discomfort and relief is addictive, much like the thrill people feel from roller coasters or extreme sports.
Numerous studies published in Neuroscience and Biobehavioural Reviews highlight how this dynamic is not accidental — our brains are wired to sometimes find pleasure in safe doses of discomfort.
So why do we crave that burn again and again? For many, it’s about controlled risk. Eating spicy food allows us to flirt with danger in a safe, edible form. The chilli is not truly harming us, yet our nervous system reacts as though it is. The thrill, the sweat, the tears — all come packaged with the comforting afterglow of endorphins.
Culturally, this experience has become more than just a biological reaction. In India, Mexico, Thailand, and beyond, spicy food is a source of pride and identity. Spice challenges and “world’s hottest chilli” competitions feed into this psychology — celebrating endurance, courage, and the joy of testing limits.
At its core, our love for chilli shows how complex and adaptable the human brain is. What begins as a pain response becomes a source of pleasure. What feels like danger transforms into delight. The chilli teaches us that sometimes, discomfort can be delicious — and that our brains are wired not just to avoid pain, but to transform it into joy under the right conditions.
So, the next time you find yourself reaching for that extra spoonful of fiery curry or daring a bite of hot sauce, remember: it’s not just your taste buds at work. It’s your brain, your chemistry, and your love for a safe, fiery thrill.