If it’s cold enough, everyone becomes chilly. But everyone
does not get aesthetic chills—the intense, shiver‑like wave that races across
the body, especially the skin, usually in response to beauty created by nature
or humanity. Researchers estimate that as much as 35 percent of the population
does not experience frisson, the technical term for these aesthetic chills
(Harrison & Loui, 2014).
I deliberately used the phrase "get aesthetic chills"
to emphasize that frisson is triggered outside the self. It is not a mood, not
a personality trait, not a free‑floating emotional state. It is a response to a
stimulus—a sight, a sound, a moment—when something in the world reaches into
the nervous system and pulls a lever we did not consciously know existed.
Frisson is a physiological event, but it is also a cognitive one. It requires
perception, appraisal, meaning, and a kind of openness to being moved. When it
happens, it feels as if the boundary between self and world briefly dissolves.
A piece of music swells, a landscape opens, a line of poetry lands with
unexpected force—and the body answers before the mind fully understands why.
Scientific research has tried to map this experience with
increasing precision. Although frisson has been studied most extensively in the
context of music, the underlying mechanism appears consistent across domains: a
sudden violation of expectation paired with a sense of safety and meaning
(Grewe et al., 2007). Neuroscientific work shows that frisson involves
simultaneous activation of the brain’s reward circuitry—particularly the
nucleus accumbens—and regions associated with emotional appraisal, such as the
insula and anterior cingulate cortex (Salimpoor et al., 2011). This combination
is important. Frisson is not merely pleasure; it is pleasure fused with
significance. The stimulus must be perceived as meaningful, surprising, or
transcendent. Without that interpretive layer, the same stimulus remains just a
song, just a view, just a moment.
This helps explain why some people experience frisson easily
while others rarely or never do. The strongest predictor of frisson is the
personality trait known as openness to experience, which includes curiosity,
imagination, aesthetic sensitivity, and emotional absorption (McCrae, 2007).
Individuals high in openness tend to notice sensory detail, appreciate
complexity, and allow themselves to be emotionally moved. They do not merely
perceive the world; they receive it. That receptivity creates the conditions in
which frisson can occur.
Another important factor is the capacity for absorption—the
ability to become fully immersed in an experience. People who naturally lose
themselves in music, art, or nature show higher rates of frisson (Silvia &
Nusbaum, 2011). Absorption is not passive. It is an active willingness to
surrender attention, to let the experience unfold without defensive distance or
constant self‑monitoring. Emotional responsiveness also plays a role.
Individuals who feel emotions vividly or intensely are more likely to experience
the physiological cascade that produces chills. And because frisson often
occurs at moments of surprise—a harmonic shift, a sudden crescendo, a dramatic
reveal—people who are attuned to patterns and enjoy the tension between
expectation and deviation are more susceptible to the effect.
Just as certain traits make frisson more likely, others make
it less so. People low in openness to experience, who prefer predictability,
simplicity, or emotional restraint, may not engage deeply enough with aesthetic
stimuli to trigger chills. Some individuals maintain strong top‑down cognitive
control over their emotional responses; they analyze rather than absorb,
evaluate rather than feel. This stance can inhibit the spontaneous surge that
produces frisson. Others simply have lower baseline emotional reactivity,
whether temperamentally or through learned regulation, which dampens the
physiological response. And for many, the barrier is attentional. Frisson
requires immersion. If a person rarely gives undivided attention to music, art,
or natural beauty—or tends to multitask through such experiences—the necessary
conditions for chills never fully assemble.
Frisson is not a measure of sophistication or sensitivity.
It is simply one way the nervous system signals that something meaningful has
occurred. But it does reveal something important about how we engage with the
world. Some people walk through a forest and see trees. Others walk through the
same forest and feel a shiver rise along the spine as the light shifts through
the branches. The difference is not in the forest. It is in the openness,
attention, and emotional permeability of the observer.
Aesthetic chills remind us that beauty is not merely
perceived—it is received. And receiving requires a certain posture of mind:
receptive, curious, unguarded. Not everyone gets aesthetic chills. But for
those who do, frisson is a momentary alignment of perception, meaning, and
emotion—a brief, electric reminder that the world still has the power to move
us.
In sum, frisson appears to be less a universal reflex and more a signature of how an individual encounters the world. It arises at the intersection of openness, attention, emotional receptivity, and meaning-detection. Those who experience aesthetic chills are not simply more sensitive; they are often better tuned to complexity, more tolerant of uncertainty, and more willing to let external reality impress itself upon them. Those who do not experience frisson may still appreciate beauty, but they do so at a cognitive distance, without the embodied confirmation that something profound has occurred.
Given how ugly our contemporary world sometimes can be, we should strive—as much as possible—to experience personal frisson, and to encourage it in those around us. That way, we make our own lives and the lives of those we love far more beautiful.
References
Grewe, O., Nagel, F., Kopiez, R., & Altenmüller, E.
(2007). Listening to music as a re-creative process: Physiological,
psychological, and psychoacoustical correlates of chills and strong emotions. Music
Perception, 24(3), 297–314.
Harrison, L., & Loui, P. (2014). Thrills, chills,
frissons, and skin orgasms: Toward an integrative model of transcendent
psychophysiological experiences in music. Frontiers in Psychology, 5,
790.
McCrae, R. R. (2007). Aesthetic chills as a psychological
construct. Psychology of Aesthetics, Creativity, and the Arts, 1(1),
10–19.
Salimpoor, V. N., Benovoy, M., Larcher, K., Dagher, A.,
& Zatorre, R. J. (2011). Anatomically distinct dopamine release during
anticipation and experience of peak emotion to music. Nature Neuroscience,
14(2), 257–262.
Silvia, P. J., & Nusbaum, E. C. (2011). On personality
and piloerection: Individual differences in aesthetic chills and emotional
responses to music. Psychology of Aesthetics, Creativity, and the Arts, 5(3),
208–214.
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