Little else compares to that moment when you’re falling in love. Everything seems warm, open and possible. Imagine if you could summon that feeling whenever you want with the help of a simple face cream – would you try it? Now you can, thanks to a new beauty product called GlowCytocin, which works to biohack your body to mimic the neurological sensation of falling in love. It raises questions around the commodification of emotions and what it means when love – like so much else – becomes just another product we can purchase.

We’ve come to understand that our mental state can affect our skin: think of how we blush when embarrassed or how stressful periods often bring on breakouts. But now, attention is sharpening around the “brain-skin axis,” a concept rooted in the emerging field of psychodermatology. Here, the relationship is seen as a two-way street; not only does our state of mind influence our skin, but what we apply to our skin can, in turn, affect our neurological make-up. As psychodermatology evolves, skincare is shifting from surface level treatments to emotional engineering. 

This April in Amsterdam, the Swiss-Canadian company Lucas Meyer Cosmetics by Clariant launched the neurocosmetic GlowCytocin, designed to mimic “the dermatological effects of being in love”. According to the company, the topically applied ingredient activates receptors in the skin to “biomimic many of the beneficial effects of oxytocin”, also known as the “love molecule.” A placebo-controlled trial found that after 28 days, participants self-reported a noticeable “love glow” on their skin, as well as reduced wrinkles and increased “luminosity”. But the effect wasn’t just on the skin. In the same clinical study, EEG scans showed increased frontal cortex activity, a state of the brain associated with positive mood and happiness, resulting in heightened receptiveness to pleasant touch and sensations, and increased emotional well-being. 

Dr Emmaline Ashley, head of education at Acquisition Aesthetics, explains that neurocosmetics are products that “not only improve skin health but also enhance mental well-being”. Historically, these ingredients included the likes of CBD, chamomile and lavender essential oils, and were mainly positioned as relaxation aids. But the industry is evolving. Neuro-aromatic fragrance brands like Moods claim to offer “mind-altering essences” which are “clinically proven to shift your state of mind” and designed to do everything from ignite passion and boost cognitive function to fuel energy, while “neuroscience-based skincare brand” Neuraé promises users an emotional response from their products with collections centred around ‘energy’, ‘joy,’ ‘serenity,’ and ‘harmony.’ Pills are being created to “cure” grief, and now attention is turning towards the loneliness and dating crisis via our face cream. 

In Shon Faye’s most recent novel Love in Exile, she argues that under capitalism, love has been privatised. In today’s world, the source of emotional and intimate support has shifted from public and community networks to a sole monogamous partner. Romantic relationships are expected to fulfill multiple roles: lover, confidant, caregiver and financial partner. As a result, the absence of a partner equates to the absence of an entire support system. Rather than acknowledging this societal failing, however, capitalism reframes it as an individual problem, one which can be fixed through personal spending.

Traditionally, this was achieved by selling us the idea that we could attract and be more worthy of love through buying stuff, be it a new car or chewing gum or deodorant (think of every Lynx advert you’ve ever seen). As philosopher and professor Todd McGowan writes in Capitalism and Desire, it is difficult to find advertising for any commodity untouched by the fantasy of love. It has been beauty products, however, that were always sold to us as the ultimate items to consume in order to be worthy of love – buying a new mascara, lipstick or exfoliator could make you beautiful enough to attract the attention and affection of a potential partner.

Recently, however, it has felt like beauty for the sake of beauty has become the ultimate end-goal, replacing love and human relationships as the prize we are striving for. Today, our “sanitised, perfection-obsessed beauty culture” prioritises pursuing flawless skin over enjoying sexual intimacy, and GlowCytocin goes one step further. The tagline, “Feel the love, release the glow,” flips the script. No longer are we harnessing beauty to find love; now we are chasing the feeling of being in love in order to achieve the goal of looking glowy. And if this comes at the cost of emotional connection and physical closeness – for example because your mouth is already taped shut for your morning shed routine when you get into bed with your partner – then so be it. Even Rosamund Pike questioned in an interview recently, “Are we entering an age of prudery, where wellness is taking over our lives and sex seems to be taking the back seat?”

While a neurocosmetic ingredient designed to recreate the feeling of being in love might sound like something out of a Black Mirror episode, however, many people I spoke with felt it would sell very well. Kate*, who is in her mid-20s, explains she’s been single for the past eight years, and while GlowCytocin might sound dystopian now, she notes that “as time goes on, buying into products or services that simulate human connection is going to be just as normal as ordering a latte”. She believes that a product that mimics love could be fun if treated like a party drug, although worries about the impact of serious, long-term use. 

For Elli*, who’s in her early 20s, the fact that the product takes the form of a face cream, rather than something more medical, makes it seem less consequential. “If it’s marketed to me as a pill, it has a totally different connotation. That would feel way too medical and invasive. Skincare, on the other hand, doesn’t feel as scary,” she says. “We put stuff on our skin every day and have no idea what’s in it, so why not give this a try and at least see how it feels?”

If neurocosmetics like GlowCytocin do have a role to play, it’s not as a silver-bullet solution for chronic loneliness, but as a short-term remedy or crutch; a form of pain management with careful regulation and an advisory label on the packaging. Loneliness is, after all, physically bad for your health. But there are risks to treating our emotions as a formulaic commodity that can be replicated on demand in a lab. “If the proliferation of AI covers conversational connection, and now the beauty industry is starting to biohack our bodies to satiate the sentimental needs linked to love” then many of our core desires will be met, and there will be very little left pushing people towards one another, warns Kinvara Hubbard, the associate director of cultural insight at global predictions agency Foresight Factory.

It will be important to remember that while these products might one day be able to momentarily alleviate feelings of loneliness, a cream will ultimately do little to help people forge meaningful connections with others, or help fix the socio-economic and infrastructural failures that are leading people to increased social isolation. As Dr Ashley notes, “if we accept treating complicated emotional and relational struggles with topical serums, we run the risk of overlooking the societal failings at hand.”

For now, though, it’s too soon to say for sure. “Stimulating complex feelings like ‘love’ through topical application remains speculative,” Dr Ashley reminds us. “These are powerful emotional experiences tied to memory and complex neurochemistry, not simply peripheral nerve stimulation.”

*Names have been changed