The Dopamine Trap: Why Indians Are Ordering Food They'll Never Eat

The Rise of Dopamine sites

At first glance, FoodNeverComes seems like a joke. You browse its menu, select your favorite dishes, add them to your cart, and then watch the total climb—only to discover there was never any food in the first place. It's an illusion of consumption that plays out entirely on screen. The site's tagline is blunt: “The food never comes—but the dopamine does.”

This is the new genre of so-called "dopamine sites"—digital experiences designed to mimic the psychological rituals of shopping, dining, or travel without the actual purchase or consumption. What began as a playful experiment by two young entrepreneurs from Udaipur, Rajasthan, has now attracted over 2.7 million visitors since its launch in June.

FoodNeverComes is not alone. Across the globe, these platforms are gaining traction—especially in South Korea, where the concept took root and then spread internationally. Sites like Dopamine Shop or Fakehaul replicate everything from fake shopping carts to virtual travel experiences, allowing users to experience the joy of anticipation without ever spending a penny.

But what is driving this trend? And more importantly, why do we crave these digital rituals so deeply?

From Wanting to Liking

The psychology behind dopamine sites taps into a fundamental aspect of human behavior: the difference between wanting and liking. As neuroscientist Kent Berridge has noted, wanting is the motivational drive that pulls us toward something, while liking is the actual pleasure we derive from possessing or experiencing it.

It's not uncommon for people to experience wanting without liking—say, craving a snack but ultimately disliking what they eat. This distinction is key to understanding why these simulated experiences resonate with users. Dopamine doesn't just signal pleasure—it drives desire. And in the digital age, that desire can be triggered by a simple cart icon or checkout page.

"To call dopamine a chemical of pleasure is an oversimplification," says Dr. Anna Lembke, a Stanford University psychiatrist and author of Dopamine Nation. "Dopamine is the molecule that says 'get more of' or 'do more of', but it doesn't necessarily equate to pleasure."

When we see a product listed online or browse a menu, our brain may fire dopamine in response to the potential reward. This neurochemical reaction can be strong enough to make us feel satisfied—even when the thing we want is never actually acquired.

Consumption as Ritual

The allure of dopamine sites lies not just in the dopamine itself but in the rituals that precede consumption. Whether it's the act of selecting items, adding them to a cart, or watching a delivery tracker advance, these moments are embedded with emotional significance.

Ravi Dhar, director of the Yale Center for Customer Insights, describes this as "anticipatory utility"—the idea that the anticipation of consumption is part of the experience. In fact, for some consumers, this anticipation can be more pleasurable than the product itself.

"The thrill is in the chase," Dhar notes. Once we acquire what we desired, the excitement fades and the brain returns to baseline. But in a simulated environment like FoodNeverComes, that baseline isn't reached—instead, users continue to cycle through the same rewarding behavior.

Psychology of the Cart

For Purvansh Parmar, one of the founders, the idea stemmed from personal observation. During a two-month work trip in Mumbai, he found himself spending thousands on treats he didn't really need—Belgian waffles, ice cream, and even sour cream he ended up giving away to friends.

"I realized that perhaps the real craving wasn't always for the food, but for the ritual of ordering it," Parmar says. That observation inspired a deeper investigation into how people interact with consumption, particularly when the act of acquisition is decoupled from actual satisfaction.

Anshul Sharma, his co-founder, similarly noticed this behavior in himself and others—especially during moments of boredom or stress. "I would fill a basket and just leave it," Sharma recalls. "It was like a habit."

What's the Harm?

While these platforms might seem harmless on the surface, experts warn that they could reinforce unhealthy behavioral patterns. Dr. Lembke emphasizes that repeated exposure to dopamine-driven simulations may strengthen addictive neural pathways, even if those behaviors aren't immediately harmful.

"The one up side, though, is that people using these sites have on some level already admitted to themselves they have a problem, and that admission is often the first step in recovery," she says.

The question then becomes whether the experience of simulating consumption can be beneficial or if it simply delays more serious intervention. Some argue that these platforms may act as a release valve for compulsive behaviors, particularly among younger users whose developing brains are more susceptible to digital reinforcement.

Expanding Beyond Food

FoodNeverComes isn't just about meals. The site has expanded into other domains through its second platform, TripNeverLeaves. Users can plan virtual trips—complete with flights, destinations, hotels, and even activities—but never actually travel. Like the original site, it provides a rich simulation of anticipation without real-world consequences.

"It's about the ritual," says Parmar. "We're trying to show people what they're really craving when they go through these behaviors."

The founders are not aiming for profit. Instead, they plan to make both sites free and eventually share data with researchers studying human behavior and addiction.

A Deeper Look at Modern Consumption

FoodNeverComes and similar platforms reflect a broader shift in how we consume—not just products, but experiences, emotions, and even social status. These sites challenge us to ask: if the thrill of consumption comes before we have anything tangible, are we truly consuming anything at all?

In a world where online shopping and food delivery dominate daily life, dopamine sites might be revealing something profound about modern desires. They suggest that the act of wanting—whether real or simulated—has become as significant as the thing itself.

Whether this trend will evolve into a serious psychological tool or remain a digital fad remains to be seen. What's clear is that it has struck a chord with people looking for a new way to engage with desire, anticipation, and fulfillment.