FEAR FOR FUN: Why Do Frights Feel So Good?

From haunted hotels to horror attractions, people willingly seek out fear—not just for the thrill, but because our brains are wired to turn terror into a strangely enjoyable rush.

More than 1,300 people vied on the internet for a rather unusual experience — the chance to spend a night at the place where Annalisa Netherly, according to legend, lost her head to a jealous lover in 1927. But who would want to waste any time in a sinister place like that? So it turns out, a lot of people. It appears fear might be built into our biology.

Our fear sets off an elaborate ballet of substances right inside our brain, explains Dr. Elias Aboujaoude, a clinical professor at Stanford Medicine. From the amygdala to the frontal lobe, our bodies spring into action: pupils dilate, the pathways of respiration open wide, the life resources within our bodies speed to where they are most needed. It’s an age-old survival tool that, oddly, a lot of people are using to look for fun now.

I find the chemistry of fear especially intriguing. From the moment a scary stimulus triggers us, our bodies pump us full of a cocktail of chemicals — adrenaline causes that heart-pounding rush, cortisol then keeps us alert, and if we conquer our fears, dopamine rewards us with a wave of pleasure. As Dr. David Spiegel, associate director of Stanford’s Center on Stress and Health, puts it, it’s like a runner’s high — making us feel energized and alive.

But fear is not a one-size-fits-all emotion. Some fears — like our distaste for spiders, snakes and loud, sudden noises — are hardwired in our DNA, says the Harvard physician Dr. Alice Flaherty. Others we learn through experience. That explains why horror attractions like Scream-a-Geddon in Florida have such a wide-ranging menu of frights, from the timeless (clowns) to the of-the-moment (biotech nightmares).

This hunger for fear peaks, ironically, in young adulthood. It’s no coincidence, says USC’s Professor Tok Thompson, pointing out it is exactly when people are confronted with their own mortality and building their own bravery. Whether in packs clustered together at a haunted house or solo in a purportedly haunted hotel room, people seek out these controlled frights as a way to confront their fears and, maybe, to validate themselves.

At places such as Scream-a-Geddon, as their marketing officer, Jon Pianki, notes, visitors arrive apprehensive but depart guffawing — a testament to the strange joy we derive from surviving a really good scare, even if it’s merely imaginary.