Just read this in Jonah Lehrer's Proust Was a Neuroscientist:
Biology, at least until very recently, did not share [novelist George] Eliot's faith in the brain's plasticity...According to biology, the brain was little more than a genetically governed robot, our nueral connections dictated by forces beyond our control. As Thomas Huxley disdainfully declared, "War are conscious automata."
The most glaring expression of that theme was the scientific belief that a human was born with a complete set of neurons. This theory held that brain cells---unlike every other cell in our body---didn't divide. Once infancy was over, the brain was complete; the fate of the mind was sealed. Over the course of the twentieth century, this idea became one of neuroscience's fundamental principles.
That's what I always thought, that trailing clouds of glory do we come into this world along with a complete and unreplenishable set of brain cells and while the shades of the prison house close upon our growing selves we shed neurons at a depressing clip, our genius fading along with the vision splendid and no getting them back, which led to endlessly recycled jokes in college about how many brain cells we were killing with each beer.
Turns out this isn't the case. Recent studies have shown that neurons are like all our other cells. They don't just die. They divide. New brain cells are made. "The brain," Lehrer reports, "is constantly giving birth to itself."
This is good news. The bad news is that there are environmental factors that can cause the process to slow down and to the point that not enough new neurons are being born to replace all the ones that die.
High levels of stress can decrease the number of new cells; so can being low in a dominance hierarchy.
That would explain why supervillain geniuses like Lex Luthor always have idiots for henchmen, I guess.
In fact, monkey mothers who live in stressful conditions give birth to babies with drastically reduced neurogenesis, even if those babies never experienced stress themselves.
From some other things Lehrer goes on to say I gather that a stressful environment isn't just one that forces upon us worry, frustration, fear, aggravation, irritation, and disappointment, it's also drab, uninspiring, joyless, just plain dull, and lacking in real rewards to soul, body, or mind.
This suggests that we need to get to work rethinking and redesigning our prisons, schools, and workplaces. It also explains something to me about myself.
How dumb and dull I've gotten over time.
You may not believe this, but I used to be brilliant. Honest. If you are a regular reader of this page, you've come across plenty of evidence that I still think I am. Old habit. I got used to being smart and knowing what I was talking about and I can't help writing as if I still am and still do. That in itself is a sign of how dumb I've gotten. If my brain was in tip-top shape, neurons begatting teaming broods of new neurons by the hour, I'd know that I was growing stupid because I wasn't noticing how stupid I was Smart people, like Richard Feynman, never forget what Feynman was fond of pointing out, "The more I know the more I don't know. The smarter I get the stupider I know I am."
I've not been completely blind. I've felt a slip in the gears now and then. A thought taking what it expects will be a casual stroll across my brain more and more has to quickly start acting like Indiana Jones entering a booby-trapped temple and the odds of it coming out the other side are closer to that of the untrustworthy native bearer who goes in with him than to Indy's himself.
When I'm thinking clearly about how foggy my thinking has gotten I tend to blame it on time. "Old age and incipient senescence are creeping up on me," I tell myself, "and the old gray matter it ain't what it used to be. Brain cells die, nothing to be done about that. Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting, the Soul that rises with us, our life's Star, hath had elsewhere its setting, and not in something something something, but trailing clouds of something...something...um...hmmmm...."
But now I wonder if I've been blaming time for environmental damage. It's not that I've grown old and senile. I've just been stressed. Five years of living in the flat brown dullness that surrounds the city of Fort Wayne followed by thirteen Syracuse winters would stress and depress the best of brains, don't you think?
The last four years may have been a period of healing.
In short, there might be hope for me, and all of us. "The scars of stress can be healed," writes Lehrer.
When primates were transferred to enriched enclosures---complete with branches, hidden food, and a rotation of toys---their adult brains began to recover rapidly. In less than four weeks, their deprived cells underwent radical renovations and formed a wealth of new connections. Their rates of neurogenesis returned to normal levels.
I think this means I need to make more frequent trips into New York City. Also I need to buy a new car. My toys need rotating.
_____________________________________
But enough about me. Here's the truly interesting and exciting part of the chapter:
Neuroscience is just beginning to explore the profound ramifications of this discovery. The hippocampus, the part of the brain that modulates learning and memory, is continually supplied with new neurons, which help us to learn and remember new ideas and behaviors. Other scientists have discovered that anti-depressants work by stimulating neurogenesis (at least in rodents), implying that depression is ultimately caused by a decrease in the amount of new neurons, and not by a lack of serotonin. A new class of anti-depressants is being developed that targets the neurogenesis pathway. For some reason, newborn brain cells make us happy.
And while freedom remains an abstract idea, neurogenesis is cellular evidence that we evolved to never stop evolving. Eliot was right: to be alive is to be ceaselessly beginning.
Can't remember which recommended Proust Was a Neuroscientist, might have been both, might have been neither, but both deserve a hat tip anyway---Coturnix and Jennifer Ouellette.
You might like "Soul Made Flesh," by Carl Zimmer. It's sort of a history of neuroscience. I was fascinated.
Posted by: Linkmeister | Friday, February 15, 2008 at 08:02 PM
I used to feel scared I was going to turn stupid until I read something similar - you can still be creating new neural networks right up until your heart gives out. Nice thought that. So learn a new language and eat your fish.
Laughter is good too - so I strongly suggest a look at Wolcott's new post about Letterman.
Posted by: Judith | Friday, February 15, 2008 at 11:18 PM
I just picked up that book yesterday. I have been an avid reader of Lehrer's blog, The Frontal Cortex, for a while now. He's smart, casual, open-minded and funny (and 25 years old--how does that make you feel Mr. Mind Slip?). You might want to listen to him on the Australian Broadcasting Co.'s All In The Mind, which is a fantastic podcast to which I subscribe.
I am definitely dumber after 20 years in SW Ohio working in a stressful job for which I am pretty ill-suited. Blogging has helped re-invigorate me in the last couple of years, and a week alone in NYC this month, reconnecting with creative people, has got me firing on at least one extra cylinder. On the other hand, even though it is harder living among the defeated and the lotus-eaters, one can be creative and grow just about anywhere. Outside stimulus just helps the exceptionally lazy and morose...my demographic.
Oh and Judith, I read Wolcott's post by accident (I've sworn off meta-election stuff until after I vote on March 4) and I didn't get it; seemed kind of strained. But what do I know, I watch Craig Ferguson, anyway; does that make me a Richardson or Kucinich man?
Posted by: OutOfContext | Saturday, February 16, 2008 at 09:39 AM
The horns of my dilemma: to stay in a boring job and become stupid and depressed or retire (yes, I'm that old) and live a more interesting but considerably hungrier colder possibly shorter life.
Thanks, OutOfContext. Blogging does help and now I can stop excoriating myself for spending three hours perfecting a blog post nobody pays me to write and few will ever read. (Though probably more will read it than read my poetry.) I'm not wasting time; I'm stimulating my neurons.
Posted by: Bluegrass Poet | Saturday, February 16, 2008 at 09:47 AM
Lance- I bought this wonderful book a few days ago and went straight to the chapter you are discussing. Good analysis.
-Pop Mannion
Posted by: Pop Mannion | Saturday, February 16, 2008 at 10:59 AM
OutOfContext - you are right - you didnt get it. It was a snarky response to the VF online post he referred to. I thought it was hilarious.
It isnt true that a crap job will wreck your mind if you spend some of your other hours fixing it. Pick up a how to book for something that is the opposite of your skill set. I picked up an algebra book for highschoolers a few years ago and after a while it was fun - it got the brain buzzing. Then I decided there were some things I didnt mind being stupid about. Like algebra.
A dish of cold salmon (even a small peice if you have to watch coin) will fix you right up.
I have about 5 recent text books on the brain so I will pass on this book since the same topic is covered...hope you dont mind, Lance.
Posted by: Judith | Saturday, February 16, 2008 at 02:15 PM
Thanks Judith for contextualizing...I make salmon salad once or twice a month (anymore would cause family revolt--one big can pink, one red, a large powerful onion, capers and vegenaise and you'd think I'd dumped a bucket of three day old chum in the middle of the kitchen)--I don't know if it makes me smarter but it doesn't hurt.
Bluegrass P. I have a theory about there being no such thing as wasted time, but I'm afraid it may really be just a slacker's justification theory.
Posted by: OutOfContext | Saturday, February 16, 2008 at 07:53 PM
OutOf Context - that sure is a funny post. Frankly, I'd say you are smart enough already and I may need to up my dosage of brain food just catch your tail wind. :-)
and I agree there is no such thing as wasted time (other than watching cable news) so I'd love to hear your theory if you would care to share.
Posted by: Judith | Saturday, February 16, 2008 at 09:43 PM
I think this blog has not only kept your brain alive, but doubled your neurons. New York City is an ecological disaster zone. Stay in Syracuse (and also go to The Big City much more often as a beloved visitor) and keep massaging that brain.
With much affection.
Posted by: sfmike | Sunday, February 17, 2008 at 12:22 AM
Thanks, OutofContext. There are those who think poets are a waste of time so I suppose I just need to get over it. Certainly a lot of aimlessness comes with the territory, though Wendell Berry would have me rambling through the woods, not writing blogs.
I would hazard a guess that "there is no such thing as wasted time" may be all the elucidation needed, but if there's more, I'd like to hear it.
Posted by: Bluegrass Poet | Sunday, February 17, 2008 at 07:59 AM
Judith, I don't elaborate well. I find I appear much smarter when I'm most gnomic, so I'll go with Bluegrass Poet's hazarded guess. I will say one thing (and paraphrase Dylan Thomas), I'm often surprised what shows up in my daft or sudden art(a lot of rotten puns and parenthetical remarks, usually).
Posted by: OutOfContext | Sunday, February 17, 2008 at 09:30 AM
OutOfContext - well, I think anyone who quotes Dylan Thomas wins by default anyway. One of my treasured possessions is an earmarked and column noted copy of his poems that my long lost brother kept as a teen. Poets are wonderful...
Posted by: Judith | Sunday, February 17, 2008 at 03:32 PM
That is fascinating, I was told the a long time ago that the brain keeps growing but I must get a copy of this book and jump in.
Getting back into reading the latest phyics papers "suretainly" has jump started my brain again. Talk about a wake up call where have i been these last 20 years???
i like your quote
"And while freedom remains an abstract idea, neurogenesis is cellular evidence that we evolved to never stop evolving. Eliot was right: to be alive is to be ceaselessly beginning."
words to live by!
uncle merlin
Posted by: Uncle Merlin | Sunday, February 17, 2008 at 05:16 PM