With or Without You

So many questions have been asked by scientists, psychologists, philosophers, poets, artists, about Fear and Love. These two emotions have been echoed across space and time. Their fingerprints are seen in history and war, in social movements and shifting languages. They appear through our senses: in visuals and sound, scent, taste and touch, in words and emojis. We crave them as entertainment in every medium we experience, in movies that we consume daily, binge-watching horror, thrillers and romcoms.

They are foundational to our survival and evolution. They shape how we connect to one another, how our close relationships are developed and bonded, how societies stay together, develop and function – and, of course, how we develop and design for our societies.

Philosophers have long theorised their essence and meaning. Biologists, neurologists, ethologists, etc., are still dissecting their origins, tracing their patterns across our brains, our bodies, our hearts, and the link between all our organs.

In some cases, fear overwhelms love, and in others, love conquers fear. Many times, they intertwine, they coexist, cooperate, defining intimacy, vulnerability and the strengths of our collective bonds.

Do these emotions begin within, or are they triggered from without? Do they stem from nature or nurture? The psychology and science behind Fear and Love is complex and is still in the early developmental phase within the research world.

We are narrowing our focus to fear and love in social interactions, from the very close and personal to the distant and impersonal. We want to understand their roots and interplay (as we know them thus far), how they guide our connections and influence behaviors in our societies.

In this part 1 of the #people series, we’ll be looking into the science of Fear.

Is it Biology and/or a Social Construct?

Fear is theorized by many scholars to be one of a small set of universal, basic emotions, including joy, anger, sadness, disgust, and surprise. These emotions are considered to be biologically hardwired and recognized across cultures, with universally shared facial expressions and bodily responses. Whether felt through nature, experience, observation, or study, fear can take many forms: from evolutionary fears tied to survival and physical danger, to the fear of the unfamiliar or unknown, to fear triggered by overwhelming or intense stimulation. It can also come from learned past experiences, or from social contexts where we fear judgment, exclusion, or being disliked.¹

Here we draw from “The Biology of Fear” by Ralph Adolphs², a foundational paper in the scientific study of fear. Adolphs offers a functional definition for fear, which is a response system rooted in cause (stimuli) and effect (behavior).³

“[...] we should define fear not in terms of its responses, but in terms of what causes it and what it causes. That is, fear is a state caused by threat-related stimuli that produces behaviors aimed at coping with that threat.” ⁴ — Ralph Adolphs

Adolphs argues that fear operates on two levels: it can be psychological, shaped by culture and experience – and biological, shaped by evolution.⁵

 The fear emotion evolved to help us respond to threats. Across species patterns like freezing and fleeing are built-in survival mechanisms. It’s like hearing a sudden bang. Your body doesn’t wait to analyze it – your heart races, your muscles tense, and you instinctively flinch or duck. Reactions like these happen across cultures, even across species. It’s fast, automatic, and designed to keep us alive.⁶

Another category of fear is the one we learn – the kind that is shaped by the world we grow up in. This kind of fear isn’t about physical survival, but a social one. It’s the fear of judgment, rejection, or not fitting in. It shows up in things like stage fright or the hesitation to speak up in a meeting. It appears when we hold back from disagreeing with someone we like or respect, just because we’re afraid of being disliked or excluded or seen as stupid. In many societies, voicing disagreement or challenging social norms can feel (or be) dangerous – not to your body (though in some countries, depending on the government, it can be), but to your standing in society.

It can be the fear of failing at social roles, like not getting married at the right age, or marrying someone much older or much younger, giving birth to children too early or too late in life, or not even having children at all. Not being a good enough mother, partner, child, or even just not “fitting the mold” of what a gender is expected to be.

And let’s not forget the pop culture-driven fears like FOMO, cancel culture, and public shaming, that are thriving in the age of social media and growing polarization.

These fears are born from the written and non-written expectations we absorb from society. And yet, they shape our lives just as powerfully as a sudden bang in the dark. So, we need to be mindful and aware of where all of these fears stem from. If we understand their roots, we may gradually break them,  and help others to break them, as long as we stay curious and remain respectful while doing it (if being respectful is yet another social construct we fear breaking).

Context is everything

In his study, Adolphs shows how fear isn’t tied to one fixed circuit in the brain. Instead, it’s fluid, highly flexible and deeply context-dependent. The same threat or the exact same stimulus can trigger different sets of neurons depending on all sorts of situations:⁷

• The context (time of day, mood, emotional state, what happened earlier that week)
• Internal conditions (hunger, sleep, hormones, stress levels)
• Learned history (whether that sound or image was once linked to danger or not)

The brain shifts and adapts based on what we’ve lived, what we expect, and how we feel in that moment.

“This no more shows that there are distinct fear systems than does the fact that different visual images evoke somewhat different patterns of neural response in visual parts of the brain: nobody would conclude from this that there are many different visual systems.”⁸— Ralph Adolphs

In other words, just because different images light up different brain cells, doesn’t mean that we have multiple visual systems. We still call it one visual system. The same goes for fear. Just because different fear situations activate different parts of the brain doesn’t mean fear is fragmented. It’s still a unified psychological state, but one that is adaptive, constantly shaped by our experiences, memories, and changing environments.

So, when we design for a specific group of people, it’s important to think about different factors (i.e. their environment, emotional state, past experiences) and the kind of stimuli they would be exposed to and trying to avoid. Being aware of these things helps us create designs that don’t accidentally trigger fear, especially in sensitive areas like medical products, children’s toys, or visuals for older adults with dementia.

The Cause and Effect

Adolphs identifies three broad classes of prototypical fear-inducing stimuli. Understanding these classes helps us unpack what starts the whole fear response or, in many cases, traps us in it.

The first class is about stimuli that are hardwired into our biology through evolution. For example, humans often react with fear when we see a snake or a spider, even without any prior experience.⁹

The second class includes stimuli we've learned to associate with danger through personal experience or social observation, like a gun, for instance.

And finally, in the third class are stimuli that aren't inherently dangerous, but are associated with the above two classes, like the sound of footsteps in the middle of the night. On its own, they’re harmless, but our brains might connect them to threats based on past experiences or cultural cues.¹⁰

The next step after identifying the cause of fear is understanding the effect it has on us (i.e. the adaptive behavior). 

One type of adaptive behavior that emerges during fear depends on distance and intensity. When a perceived threat is detected, our response changes depending on how close and intense that threat feels. If the danger is distant, someone might freeze, trying not to attract attention. But as the threat gets closer, the reaction can escalate: calling out for help, running away, or even preparing to defend oneself if there’s no escape. The intensity of fear typically rises with distance; the closer the danger, the louder and more urgent the reaction becomes.¹¹ In design, this can show up in how people respond to loud audio alerts or flashing lights in emergency or assistive systems.

Another fear-based behavior is how we respond to unpredictability. When people face uncertainty or ambiguity, they don’t always panic – they shift into careful, deliberate risk assessment.¹² In studies animals often respond to unclear danger not with immediate flight, but with slow, calculated behavior like peeking around corners, sniffing the air, or observing before acting. It’s about risk assessment, reducing uncertainty, learning more before committing to a decision, and finding control in an unpredictable situation¹³. One can experience this in design when reaching a sudden dead-end in a space they expected to continue, which might make one feel disoriented or even trapped. Or inconsistent patterns in floors, ceilings, or walls that can interrupt one’s flow and ability to predict and navigate comfortably.

And then comes the conscious experience of fear, the moment we name what our body is already doing. It’s our mind’s way of making sense of the racing heart, the tight chest, the shallow breath. Like when you're walking alone at night and hear footsteps behind you. Your body reacts first. Then your brain catches up and says: “I’m scared”. It’s not the fear that starts in the mind, it’s the mind interpreting the fear already living in the body.

Adolphs highlights two psychological theories that stem from the conscious experience of fear: the appraisal theory and the conceptual act theory.

The appraisal theory explains fear as a survival tool, something adaptive and useful. It suggests that when we feel fear, it’s because our brain is evaluating an external situation and interpreting it as dangerous.¹⁴ In design, this can show up as surveillance-heavy environments in neighborhoods, which might evoke fear or anxiety in someone unfamiliar with the area, suddenly making them feel wary.

The conceptual act theory, unlike appraisal theory which responds to external situations, focuses on internal processes. It emphasizes what our brain puts together, like a story it builds using how we think and what we know. Fear isn’t triggered directly by the situation itself, but constructed in the mind, by combining our bodily sensations (a racing heart or sweating), with our past experiences, cultural ideas, and personal history. For instance, when we encounter certain imagery, colors, or symbols that carry the weight of historical racism, our body might respond with tension or alertness, a sense of unease. Our brain uses past experiences, cultural knowledge, and emotional memory to label those sensations as fear. It’s not the symbol itself that causes fear directly, it’s the meaning behind it – the story our brain tells itself about what that symbol represents. That’s how the experience of fear is constructed, not just triggered.

Understanding the causes and effects of fear, from instinctive reactions to learned associations and conscious interpretation can give us deeper insight into how people experience the world. When we design for specific target groups, especially those shaped by particular histories or contexts (which, let’s be honest, includes all of us), recognizing how fear is triggered and expressed allows us to create products and environments that feel safer, intuitive and more inclusive.

The Aftereffect

Adolphs goes on to explain that the experience of fear isn’t just about the threat itself or how to escape it. Fear doesn’t only make us act because we’re scared, it also pushes us to act in order to stop feeling scared. The relief we feel when fear ends can become a kind of motivation and reward on its own, reinforcing the actions that helped us reach that relief.¹⁵ So to fully understand fear-driven behavior, we need to look at the whole timeline, not just the start of the fear and the response.

Sometimes we do things not because the danger is real, but to calm the fear we feel. Like checking the door over and over to make sure it’s locked. We often try to avoid fear, but we’re also motivated by the relief that comes when it goes away. That relief feels good, so we repeat the behavior that gave us that relief. This is called negative reinforcement.¹⁶

Take this example: a 5-year-old child who has been physically abused by a parent. One day, during an episode of abuse, the child runs and hides under the bed – a space where a grownup is too large to reach them. In that moment, the child feels a glimpse of safety and relief.

That moment would teach the child that under the bed is their safety. And so, the next time that child feels unsafe, maybe it’s another act of violence, maybe it’s shouting, or just the tension in their parent’s tone of voice, or their facial expression, they instinctively run back to that same spot. Not necessarily because the threat is the same, but because their body remembers the relief that came after.

This is how fear and trauma can become wired into behavior. And this is what negative reinforcement looks like: when the removal of fear becomes the reward, and the behavior that brought relief is repeated again and again, even long after the danger has changed.

Concluding Part 1 

In this Part 1 of the Fear and/or Love series we’ve explored different types of fear – its causes, effects, and aftereffects that can become a self-sustaining cycle, even when the original cause changes. We also looked at how context, internal states, and lived experience, shaped by environment, society, culture, and religion, influence both the experience of fear and how we respond to it.

As we’ve learned, fear is not linear, it’s layered, constantly shifting, and multi-dimensional. It stems from both nature and nurture.

In Part 2 of this series, we’ll shift our focus to Love. We will be exploring how it shows up in close relationships, in connection with strangers, and even in non-human forms. By trying to unpack these two deeply complex emotions, we hope to gain more clarity on how they function both independently and in relation to each other, and how visual communication can play a role in strengthening these connections, breaking them, or in some cases, making them dangerous.