Subscribe via RSS Feed

Joseph LeDoux: Inside the Brain, Behind the Music, Part 4

[ 16 ] July 15, 2010

Inside the Brain, Behind the Music is part of an ongoing series of dispatches written for the The Beautiful Brain by neuroscientist and rock musician Joseph LeDoux. Each piece presents the personal and scientific background of a song from his band The Amygdaloids‘ latest brain-themed album, Theory of My Mind (Amazon, iTunes,

Part 4: “How Free is Your Will”

Watercolor by Noah Hutton

Are we free to choose?  Is all behavior determined?  Do you have to be conscious of a decision in order for it to be considered volitional?  Are we better off with or without free will? These are some of the issues touched on in my song, “How Free Is Your Will.” Note that there are no question marks in the song.  I just decided to leave them out. No particular reason.  I just freely chose to do that (or at least I believe I did).[1]

The problem of free will is closely tied up with the problems of consciousness and personal responsibility, which are themselves knotted together.  You have to be aware of what you are doing (conscious) in order to be responsible for your actions.  Christian theology says that humans but not other animals can gain or lose access to the Kingdom of Heaven by their actions.  Rene Descartes, a devout Catholic and one of the founders of modern philosophy, brought consciousness in when he said that only humans are responsible for actions because they have consciousness. Other animals, in his opinion, are reflex machines. They are pulled this way and that by their circumstances and are not free to choose right from wrong. And since they cannot choose, they cannot gain or lose heaven by their actions.

For Descartes, the terms consciousness and mind were equivalent. If it is not conscious, it is not mental in Descartes’s scheme.  But things have gotten a little more complicated in modern times, with the emergence of the idea that the mind has conscious and unconscious aspects.  Are we responsible for actions produced by unconscious processes in our brain? I’ll talk about this in a later post when I consider the song Crime of Passion.  For now, I simply want to explore the nature of free will.

Free will is a really hard problem for a dualist, one who believes that consciousness (mind, soul) is distinct from the brain. How can an immaterial thought, a thing of consciousness, cause neurons to fire in such a way as to produce willful actions?  This is the problem of “downward causation.”  The flip side of this question is the problem of “qualia.”  How can the material brain create a mental experience, such as the feeling of pain or the serenity of the red glow of a beautiful sunset?   While these issues are not so easy for materialist-inclined brain researchers either, at least we have the advantage of being able to work within one realm, the material realm, rather than having to try to forge a relation between two realms (material and mental).

“How Free is Your Will” by The Amygdaloids

Click here for lyrics to “How Free is Your Will”

Let’s go back to the song.  Each of the first ten verses repeats a question in its first line: “how free is your will.” The refrain of these verses then elaborates on the question.  For example, the first verse goes:  “How free is your will, do you have control, are you in charge, who’s running your soul.”  The music under the verses is a very simple two-chord vamp that goes back and forth between A and G. There’s a fun little instrumental movement that breaks up the repetitiveness of the chords and lyrics every now and then.

After verse ten, there’s a longer instrumental segment that ends with the vamp flipping for the last two verses.  This change of the chord sequence, which now goes from G to A, adds a burst of forward momentum since the chord interval, instead of going from high to low pitch, as at the beginning, now goes from low to high pitch.  Corresponding with this is a change in the first line of the last two verses.  Instead of asking “how free is your will,” they exclaim, “free will.” The refrains, which are the same as from the previous two verses, now become demonstrative conclusions under the influence of the forward moving sound.

The song ends on an instrumental chords sequence that I have no clue about.  I wrote the song with willful intention all the way through, until I reached the end.  At that point the song took over.  The chords just emerged from my fingers (in other words, unconscious processes in my brain took over and allowed this set of chord changes to unfold). I was surprised by these chords, since the sequence was more a more intricate and complex than what I typically write.  I scrambled for a pen to make some notes as I didn’t have confidence that I could recreate the sequence spontaneously.

When we use the term “I” we are usually referring to our conscious mind. So can “I” take credit for that chord sequence?  Did I willfully produce it?  I think this problem, like some other issues in philosophy, is about how the words are used.  Of course I wrote the song and came up with the chords.  I just didn’t do it completely consciously.  The fact is, though, I didn’t do it completely unconsciously either.  As the sequence began to unfold, the music being made was feeding into consciousness and creating qualia that allowed some good ole downward causation to help refine the efforts of my unconscious mind.  So, like many things we do in life, it was a collaboration between conscious and unconscious processes.  It’s hard to separate them sometimes.  Since introspection alone can’t give us all the answers, we need scientists to do experiments and figure out how they work the various processes above and below the surface.  Don’t worry, even if we figure this stuff out, your will is going to be as free, or determined, as it is today.  We may just know a little more about what that means. LeDoux is a University Professor, Henry and Lucy Moses Professor of Science, Professor of Neural Science and Psychology and Child Psychiatry at NYU. He is also the Director of the Emotional Brain Institute at NYU and at the Nathan Kline Institute. The author of two best-selling books, The Emotional Brain and Synaptic Self, LeDoux is also a singer and song writer of The Amygdaloids, a band of scientists that plays music about mind and brain and mental disorders. The Amygdaloids‘ latest album Theory of My Mind which features the song “How Free is Your Will” is available on Amazon, iTunes, and at

What do you think about free will? Have a question for Joe? Let us know in the comment section below.


The Summit of Consciousness

[ 5 ] July 13, 2010

World leaders, great thinkers, activists of every possible political stripe and a large number of media and law enforcement personnel poured into Toronto at the end of June. Though most of them were there for the G-20 summit, about 300 had arrived to attend the 14th annual meeting of the Association for the Scientific Study of Consciousness (ASSC), held at the same time.

The discussions at the ASSC conference will not have the immediate impact on world affairs that those of the G-20 did, but for those who attended it, the central topic was as important as any global issue: The nature of consciousness, perhaps the most fundamental aspect of our existence – and how best to investigate and think about it.

Why are we conscious? What functions does consciousness serve, and how can we tell whether other creatures are conscious? How does consciousness arise from brain activity? What tasks can the brain perform without conscious awareness, and what distinguishes conscious and unconscious mental processes? Though philosophers have grappled with such questions for thousands of years, rigorous scientific research of these issues is a surprisingly recent development.

A difficult pursuit

To do science, you must be able to objectively observe and measure the phenomenon you are interested in; anyone else should be able, in principle, to make the same observations. But how can you measure someone else’s subjective experience? No one has direct access to anyone’s consciousness but his or her own. On top of this, there is no single, widely accepted definition of consciousness.

These two problems are the main reasons that the scientific community had traditionally resisted the idea of devoting time and effort to investigating consciousness. In the last two decades, however, the realization that you cannot ignore such a basic natural phenomenon just because it presents methodological difficulties has gained legitimacy. Consciousness research is now a thriving field, bringing together scientists with backgrounds in psychology, neuroscience, cognitive science and many related fields, as well as philosophers. Ingenious ways to overcome the difficulties inherent to the topic are constantly being thought up, and though this young field still faces formidable challenges, the atmosphere at the ASSC conference reflected a prevalent attitude of optimism and excitement.

Global debates

The Conference’s participants arrived from over 25 different countries, and, as has become a tradition at the ASSC, comprised about two-thirds scientists and one third philosophers. To many of the attendees, who are used to the narrow specialization of most academic conferences, this mix of backgrounds is one of the ASSC’s greatest attractions: “It is great to have an opportunity to argue with the scientists doing work on the cutting edge of consciousness research,” says Ned Block, a professor at New York University and one of the world’s leading philosophers of mind.

A lot of arguing could indeed be heard over the four days of the conference, but it was nearly all good-natured; my own impression was that although the ASSC attendees were not devoid of the fierce competitiveness that characterizes researchers in so many fields, there was very little of the animosity that such competition often arouses. Perhaps this is a feature of a field where so many of the most basic questions have yet to be resolved.

The heated discussions that followed many of the presentations continued into the social events that took place each evening. “The ASSC was my first international conference, and I could not anticipate that it would be so much fun,” Says Ido Amihai, a graduate student from the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, Israel. Amihai gave a talk on his thesis research, which is based on previous findings that the human brain can process certain visual stimuli, such as faces, without awareness. In his research, Amihai demonstrated that certain aspects of faces – he investigated gender and race – require awareness to affect behavior.

Trends and prizes

Many of those presenting new work at the conference were graduate students and postdocs, in line with the ASSC’s policy of encouraging young researchers. In a special mentoring event on the second day, students were paired with experienced researchers for lunch and a discussion of research and career development.

The William James Prize, awarded annually at the conference for an outstanding published contribution to the empirical or philosophical study of consciousness by a graduate student or postdoctoral scholar, was awarded to Yann Cojan from the University of Geneva in Switzerland during the opening ceremony. Cojan headed a team whose paper, published in the journal Neuron in June 2009, investigated brain activity under hypnosis. In his acceptance lecture, Cojan described the history of hypnosis and its relation to the study of consciousness, before going on to describe his own findings: While undergoing functional MRI, participants were instructed to prepare to move their hand. After a few seconds they were told whether or not to actually perform the movement. Some of the time, they were hypnotized and believed that their hand was paralyzed. Interestingly, when the volunteers were under hypnosis, the preparatory activity in motor cortex was normal; but there was increased activity in other regions related to attention, mental imagery and self-awareness. Moreover, the connectivity between these regions and motor cortex was enhanced, indicating that hypnosis doesn’t work by directly controlling motor activity, but rather through the effects of internal representations and self-monitoring processes on such activity.

Prizes were also given to new research presented at the conference itself by students: a multi-disciplinary panel of judges selected two empirical and two philosophical studies to receive the prestigious awards. Hakwan Lau, an assistant professor at Columbia University in New York and past recipient of the William James prize, points out that the winning studies reflect an interesting trend evident in this year’s conference – an emphasis on metacognition (knowing what you know) and higher-order theories of consciousness.

A great deal of past research on consciousness has in fact been focused on perceptual performance: being able to complete a task has been equated with awareness of the relevant stimuli. However, as a lot of the work presented this year shows, there is a clear distinction between what the brain can achieve, and the neural activity related to awareness of what our brains are doing.

Being conscious of what you know

Lucie Charles, a doctoral candidate from the INSERM-CEA Cognitive Neuroimaging Unit in Paris, France, was one of the student winners. Her research used measures of the brain’s electrical activity to investigate processes related to making mistakes, and how error-related brain activity is modulated by awareness. She asked participants to perform a visual task, and also to evaluate their own performance – whether they thought they had gotten it right or not. By manipulating the time elapsing between the visual stimuli and a meaningless “mask” that followed them, Charles could render the stimuli either clearly visible or very difficult to see. She found that a specific neural signature, believed to indicate the activity of cognitive control mechanisms, was evident when volunteers were aware that they had made an error but absent when they could not consciously report the stimuli. Previous research has shown that the kind of subliminal stimuli used by Charles can be processed by the brain’s visual centers. These new results, however, indicate that subliminal visual stimuli fail to reach higher-order cognitive control stages of processing.

Another winner of the student prize, Stephen Fleming from University College London in the UK, investigated the relationship between metacognition and brain structure. Like Charles, Fleming also had his volunteers perform a visual task. By adjusting the difficulty of the task online, he was able to keep all his volunteers’ performance at equal levels. When he asked them how sure they were of how well they were doing, however, there was a wide variety of confidence levels. Fleming measured his participants’ metacognitive sensitivity – how appropriate one’s confidence is (comparing rates of high confidence after correct and incorrect responses). Fascinatingly, he found a correlation between metacognitive sensitivity and the size of brain structures in the frontal and cingulate cortices, as well as the level of connectivity between frontal regions in the brain’s two hemispheres. Knowing what you know, therefore, may depend on the brain’s structure and not just its activity.

Another interesting study, presented by Helene Gauchou, a postdoctoral researcher at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, Canada, examined whether people know more than they are aware of. Gauchou used an unconventional method: The Ouija board, commonly used in séances where people place their hands on an overturned cup and move it around a board of letters, spelling out words without conscious intention. In séances, the responses are often surprisingly sensible – prompting believers to attribute them to spiritual influences. It is now well established, however, that what is really at work here is something called the ideomotor effect: Participants move the cup themselves, but having other people also touch the cup enables them to lose a sense of responsibility (or “agency”) for the movement. Gauchou asked volunteers to use a Ouija board to answer general knowledge yes/no questions. Another person initially touched the cup, so the volunteers could believe it wasn’t them causing the movement. Then Gauchou blindfolded them, and the other person (actually an experimenter) removed his hands. Astonishingly, volunteers’ performance on questions they claimed they didn’t know the answers to was significantly better than chance. This did not happen when they simply answered such questions verbally. A lot of our memory, says Gauchou, is implicit: We know stuff we have forgotten that we know, but these results show that we can still access such knowledge.

A multitude of perspectives

The abundance of new research at the conference left no choice but to have presentations in parallel sessions, meaning that three different talks went on at the same time. The organizers did an admirable job of trying to make these sessions focus on different topics, so everyone could attend the ones they were interested in – but for many of the attendees, part of the fun came from being exposed to research outside their own day-to-day topics of investigation. (I gave a talk myself, and must admit I was quite disappointed when I realized I really wanted to see both of the other talks that took place at the same time as mine)!

Some cutting-edge issues, however, were discussed in symposia attended by everyone. Among these was a discussion chaired by Antoine Lutz from the University of Wisconsin, Madison, on the potential of research on meditation to contribute to understanding consciousness. In a different symposium, on physiological approaches to consciousness research, Alex Maier from the National Institute of Health in Bethesda, Maryland, presented new work in which he used both intracranial electrodes and fMRI to measure activity in monkey brains, resolving some previously-reported discrepancies between these two methods. Naotsugu Tsuchiya from the California Institute of Technology presented new research that used electrode arrays implanted in humans (a common procedure before some kinds of brain surgery). This kind of research was also described by Robert Knight from the University of California, Berkeley, who was one of the conference’s keynote speakers. Keynote speakers are usually invited because they work in a somewhat different field, but can give an illuminating, outsider’s point of view. Other keynote speakers included Nicola Clayton from the University of Cambridge, UK, who talked about the remarkable cognitive abilities of birds (specifically, crows); and Morris Moscovitch from the University of Toronto, who discussed the relationship between memory and consciousness, drew from fascinating findings on memory in brain-damaged patients.

The conference ended with an after-party at a local bar, many excited farewells and promises to keep in touch and meet again at next year’s ASSC conference, which will be held in Kyoto, Japan.

David Carmel is a research scientist at the Department of Psychology and Center for Neural Science in New York University. His research focuses on visual awareness and attention in humans, using brain imaging and behavioral experiments.

Joseph LeDoux: Inside the Brain, Behind the Music, Part 3

[ 3 ] July 8, 2010

Inside the Brain, Behind the Music is part of an ongoing series of dispatches written for the The Beautiful Brain by neuroscientist and rock musician Joseph LeDoux. Each piece presents the personal and scientific background of a song from his band The Amygdaloids‘ latest brain-themed album, Theory of My Mind (Amazon, iTunes). LeDoux and The Amygdaloids will be performing live on NPR’s Science Friday with host Ira Flatow on Friday, July 9th at 3 pm ET.

Part 3: “Glue”

On the afternoon of November 22, 1963, I was a freshman in high school sitting at my desk in Mr. Smith’s class on Business Administration.  Suddenly, someone burst through the door shouting, “Kennedy was shot.”  Mr. Smith switched on the classroom TV and we all sat rapt while Walter Cronkite reviewed the situation.  All classroom changes were suspended, and we remained where we were the rest of the afternoon.

Flashbulb memories are highly detailed, exceptionally vivid snapshots of the moment and circumstances in which surprising and consequential (or emotionally arousing) news was heard.

I remember this event as if it happened yesterday.  The recollection is clear and vivid.  Psychologists call this a “Flashbulb memory,” a phrase meant to highlight its clarity, as if a moment was captured by a flash of light that makes it prominent, relative to the moments before and after the flash.

So what is responsible for the flash in our head when we have a flashbulb memory?  The answer, plain and simple, is emotion.   Emotional arousal causes brain circuits that form memories to stamp experiences in a particularly strong way.  It sort of makes sense, doesn’t it?  When you are emotionally aroused, it means something important (either positive or negative) is happening in terms of your well-being.  In general, you want to remember and repeat behaviors that expose you to stimuli associated with good things, and avoid doing things that might expose to bad things. One way the brain achieves this goal is by making memories of the good and bad stand out relative to the mundane and ordinary.

But saying that emotion achieves this goal is just begging the question.  Fortunately, we have a good deal of information about how emotion does this.  Consider the emotional arousal that occurs in negative emotions such as fear.  In dangerous situations, activity is triggered in our friend the amygdala (see Part 1, Fearing).  When this occurs, the amygdala sends messages through its neural output connections to a variety of areas that control different kinds of behavioral and physiological responses that help keep you safe and also help prepare you for similar future events.  Particularly important in the storage of memories for future events are connections to systems that release neuromodulatory chemicals (like norepinephrine and dopamine) within the brain, and hormones (like cortisol) that travel through veins to the brain. These chemicals produce widespread activation of the brain and help keep you focused and alert, but also enhance the storage of memories.  The chemicals can be thought of as neurological glue that helps makes memories stick.

Glue” by The Amygdaloids

Click here for the lyrics to “Glue”

Some of the songs I have written are tributes to researchers whose work I respect.  My song “Glue” is a tribute to James McGaugh of the University of California at Irvine.  He and his colleagues have led the way in showing how chemical modulators in the brain and hormones from the body make memories stick. The chorus in “Glue” is where the scientific facts come into this love song:  “There must be something in my brain, there must be something in my veins, there must be some primal glue, that keeps my memory stuck on you.”

Before leaving this dispatch about the emotional regulation of memory, it’s important to give you an update on flashbulb memories.  For many years, they were thought to be not just strong and vivid, but also especially accurate.  We now know that they are not more accurate.  Their strength gives you confidence in their accuracy but when emotionally based memories are checked against facts, they turn out to be no more or less accurate than non-emotional memories.  So whether my vivid memories (of someone running into Mr. Smith’s classroom and shouting that JFK had been shot, of there being a TV in the class that covered the incident in real time, of Walter Kronkite being on it,  and of us staying in that room rather than going to other classes) are accurate is up for grabs.

We shouldn’t put all the blame on the storage process.  Inaccuracy also comes into memory during the act of remembering.  It’s long been known that remembrance is a time of change, a time when new information is introduced into the memory.  At some point when I remembered the events of that day, I may have filled in that I saw Walter Cronkite on the TV in the classroom because of his later coverage of JFK’s death and funeral.   What’s particularly fascinating is just how much information gets added to a memory each time you retrieve it.  It’s like a game of “telephone” that you play with yourself so that each time you tell a story from memory you store the memory afresh and the next time you remember the last memory rather than the original.  And the more emotionally arousing, the more likely the new information will be stored and will override the previous memory for all the same reasons that emotional arousal influences the original memory that is stored.  This is a particularly salient problem for eyewitness testimony–people will sometime testify about what they read in the newspaper rather than what they witnessed at the crime, since reading about the crime leads to storage of new information that ends up being part of the memory.

Memory is pretty good but it isn’t perfect.  Perhaps inaccuracy is the cost of rapidly storing emotional information in an especially persistent way so that at least the general tone of important situations will be remembered vividly in the future, if not the exact details. Don’t forget (in fact, remember strongly, and accurately, if you can) that the brain is, and always will be, an imperfect device, a work in progress, one which we simply expect too much of sometimes.

Joseph LeDoux is a University Professor, Henry and Lucy Moses Professor of Science, Professor of Neural Science and Psychology and Child Psychiatry at NYU. He is also the Director of the Emotional Brain Institute at NYU and at the Nathan Kline Institute. The author of two best-selling books, The Emotional Brain and Synaptic Self, LeDoux is also a singer and song writer of The Amygdaloids, a band of scientists that plays music about mind and brain and mental disorders.

The Amygdaloids‘ latest album Theory of My Mind which features the song “Glue” is available on Amazon and iTunes. “Glue” will be performed live on NPR’s Science Friday program on July 9th at 3 pm ET.

Do you recall any flashbulb memories? Have a question for Joe? Let us know in the comment section below.

Joseph LeDoux: Inside the Brain, Behind the Music, Part 2

[ 6 ] July 1, 2010

Inside the Brain, Behind the Music is part of an ongoing series of dispatches written for the The Beautiful Brain by neuroscientist and rock musician Joseph LeDoux. Each piece presents the personal and scientific background of a song from his band The Amygdaloids‘ latest brain-themed album, Theory of My Mind (Amazon, iTunes).

Part 2: “Mind Over Matter”

Today’s song is “Mind Over Matter.” This is one of two songs that Rosanne Cash, bless her heart and incredible voice, sang with me on Theory of My Mind.

To explain what this song is about, I want to briefly discuss the expression in the title.

Let’s start with something Plato reportedly said: that he looked forward to death so that he could be free of his body and all of the distractions it posed to the pure thoughts of his soul.  For Plato, the body was a source of wild passions (animal instincts or emotions).  To lead a good, virtuous life, one uses reason (thought or cognition) to control these inner beasts and keep them from being expressed in behavior.  But this control of behavior by the mind is not what “Mind Over Matter” is about.

"Mind Over Matter" music video directed by Alexis Gambis.

Plato’s view of the mind as pure thought contrasts with the more modern scientific view, which is that cognition and emotion are both parts of the mental landscape. The goal is to understand how the brain (a material object) makes all these processes of the mind possible.  The modern view also emphasizes that much of what the mind does (including the control of the behavioral responses of the material body) takes place unconsciously.  This applies to both the cognitive and emotional aspects of mind.

Descartes, sort of like Plato, equated the mind with consciousness.  Freud helped crystallize the idea that consciousness is only a part of the mind.  But the unconscious today is considered even more important than Freud imagined—it doesn’t just refer to a repository of previously conscious anxious thoughts, but also refers to the basic mental machinations that keep everything psychological humming along.

Physics provides an understanding of how the material world works.  And neuroscience is showing us how a physical object, the brain, makes the mind possible. We know a lot more about the basic processes of the brain involved in seeing, hearing, smelling, speaking, eating, sleeping, and mating than we do about how some of the underlying processes percolate up into consciousness.  But most scientists take for granted that the entirety of our mind operates within the constraints imposed on matter by the laws of physics. This doesn’t mean that the mind or soul does not exist. It just means that whatever the soul is, it is subject to the laws of physics.

The Amygdaloids perform in the music video for "Mind Over Matter" directed by Alexis Gambis.

I attended a conference sponsored by the Vatican a few years back. I was surprised to find theologians from various religions who accepted the dependence of the mind (soul) on the physical brain. These theologians, in other words, accepted that the soul was tethered to and made possible by the brain, at least during life.  They were struggling to find some way that physics (as it currently exists or might exist in the future) could explain how the soul could be a physical entity (though not one you could see and touch, but a physical entity nevertheless) that survives death of the body.

As a neuroscientist, I also firmly believe that the mind (or soul, if you like) is part of the material world, a product of the brain.  I am not claiming that we fully know how the brain makes the mind possible, but I believe it does.  That’s the hypothesis I’ll cling to until it’s falsified by scientific evidence, or more likely, until I’m 6 feet under and no longer have a brain that can have such a thought (unless the theologians are correct and there is some kind of physics that will allow my mind a material life of its own in some invisible aspect of space-time).

Back to “Mind Over Matter.” Let’s look at a few key lines from the song. First thing to note is that a number of my songs have an inverted structure– they start and end with a chorus, and the verses come in the middle. I don’t know why I’ve been doing that but that’s how they come out sometimes (the ole unconscious at work). The opening chorus lines in the song are:  “Mind over matter, that’s something I’m trying to do; it’s just a little physics, that keeps me apart from you.”  So right away you know that the singer is missing someone. He then says to the missing person that he wants to “break down space and time, and be together with you.”  This suggests that the person is in some unknown place.  So far so good in terms of physics.  But as we go into the verses we see options such as time travel (“are you still in my time?”) and communication with the afterlife (“or in a place heavenly?”).  But simpler options are in there as well (“different continent or on the sea?”).  Determined to close the gap, he asserts, “wherever you are now, I’ll use my mind to find; no amount of space or time, can keep you from being mine.”

So you might be thinking that “Mind Over Matter” is an odd song for a brain scientist to write since it implies several potential violations of the laws of physics.  But in the end scientists are just like everyone else.  We have longings and fantasies that don’t always make perfect sense.  We miss those who are no longer with us, and long to be with them, even if we know it is not physically possible.  I am scientifically rigorous when I am wearing my scientific hat. But I don’t necessarily spend every waking moment of the day carefully considering whether my thoughts and feelings match the predictions of physics.

I always find it interesting when song writers explain where a particular song came from. So, if I may, I’ll share the origin of “Mind Over Matter” with you. A couple of years ago my wife Nancy and I went to the Rubin Museum’s Friday evening film program called “Mind Over Matter.”  The film was “The Innocents,” a chilling cinematic version of Henry James’ Turn of the Screw. I read the book in college, and I saw the film many years later in the old Carnegie Hall Cinema.  During the showing at the Rubin, I thought that “Mind Over Matter” would be a great title for one of my mind/brain songs.  So I went home I picked up my guitar and started randomly picking.  Out came the opening guitar riff (again the unconscious doing its thing).  I then sang the first phrase “mind over matter” and an hour later it was basically done. Record time for me.

Lenny Kaye (L) and Joseph LeDoux perform "Mind Over Matter" at the Rubin Museum of Art in New York City in April. (Photo: Michael J. Palma for the Rubin Museum)

The Rubin Museum, though, has another role in the story.  This past spring I participated in the Brainwave Festival there, where I got to sing “Mind Over Matter” live in its place where it germinated. My partner in musical crime was Lenny Kaye, the legendary guitarist of the Patti Smith Group.  Lenny came up with another song called “Mind Over Matter,” a much earlier version by Nolan Strong and the Diablos.  The doo-wop flavor of Lenny’s choice was a perfect compliment to the rock/pop/country feel of mine. We had a great time.

“Mind Over Matter” is my favorite song on the CD. I hope you’ll listen and like it too.  Thanks to Alexis Gambis, his crew, and the Imagine Science Film Festival  for making the wonderful video possible.

Joseph LeDoux is a University Professor, Henry and Lucy Moses Professor of Science, Professor of Neural Science and Psychology and Child Psychiatry at NYU. He is also the Director of the Emotional Brain Institute at NYU and at the Nathan Kline Institute. The author of two best-selling books, The Emotional Brain and Synaptic Self, LeDoux is also a the singer and song writer of The Amygdaloids, a band of scientists that plays music about mind and brain and mental disorders.

Joseph LeDoux: Inside the Brain, Behind the Music, Part 1

[ 10 ] June 29, 2010

Part 1: “Fearing”

In June of 2008, four NYU scientists spent a week in the Hamptons.  The sun shone brightly each day, but we went home paler than when we arrived.  Tyler Volk, Daniela Schiller, Nina Curley and I spent every waking moment possible in a basement. We weren’t doing some arcane experiment that required we be in a dark, dank environment.  You see, we aren’t just four scientists—we are the founding members of the rock band, The Amygdaloids, and we were tracking our second album, Theory of My Mind, in a subterranean recording studio in the home of Ed and Jennifer Brout.

The Amygdaloids' Theory of My Mind

Jen, though a clinical psychologist by training, is also CEO and executive producer of Knock Out Noise, our recoding label. Joining us down under were Tim Sommer (co-executive producer) and Stuart Chatwood, (producer-engineer).  When we emerged after a week of self-imposed isolation and sweaty, round-the-clock rock, we had recoded the basic tracks for 13 songs.  Over the subsequent months we completed the recordings, including adding back up vocals on two tunes by Grammy Award winner Rosanne Cash. Then began the arduous process of getting the record mixed and ready to go. Finally, on June 15, 2010, Theory of My Mind appeared on iTunes.

We Amygdaloids have carved a unique niche out for ourselves—original rock/pop/country songs about love and life peppered with ideas and facts about mind and brain and mental disorders.  This is a theme we started on our first CD, Heavy Mental, released in 2007.

I write most of the music, and I decided I wanted to share some of scientific background and personal inspiration for the songs on Theory of My Mind.  The Beautiful Brain graciously agreed to post my explanations in the form of a running blog.  We’re going to start this series with the third track on the CD, “Fearing,” and then move on to some of the others over the next few weeks.

We chose “Fearing” for this inaugural installment for two reasons.  It is a song that is near and dear to my scientific research, which is all about fear and the brain.  But we also chose “Fearing” because we are releasing a music video of it with the publication of this blog.  The video was written, produced and directed by Noah Hutton, who happens to be the mastermind behind The Beautiful Brain, but who is also an award-winning documentary filmmaker.  We did the “Fearing” video at a farm in the Catskills.  Daniela Schiller, our drummer, and I drove upstate for the weekend and worked with Noah and his partner in video crime, Ben Ehrlich.  The video, like the song, is dark and stark.

The song “Fearing” is an adaptation of poem in a collection called Life by Emily Dickinson.  Legend has it that she was a fearful person who stayed in her home quite a bit.  Her poem is indeed dark, and has a strong sense of dread and anxiety about it.  I took some (not too many) liberties with her words, changing things around a bit, adding lines or phrases here and there, to make them work as a song, but I kept the general structure and feel to the poem.  My main contribution, though, was to compose the music, a minor chord progression with a dirge-like feel that compliments the sense of foreboding that she so effectively created with her well-crafted phrases.

Rather than do a straight music video, Noah and I decided to try something different.  We added short lectures on the psychology and neuroscience of fear in the parts of the song where two guitar solos normally occur.  Thanks to the wonders of modern digital recording technology, we were able, with the help of KON engineer Stuart Chatwood, to mute the lead guitar and create some loops that extended the duration of the space where the solos were located, creating two windows in which to squeeze a 30 sec lecture on the basic functional or psychological aspects of fear and 1 min lecture on the brain mechanisms involved.

The functional part emphasized the fact that fear is the most primitive emotion, and that it exists to help keep organisms alive.  Animals can forego eating, drinking or sex for a long time, but must respond to danger immediately.  All species have pre-programmed ways of dealing with dangers that were routinely encountered by their ancestors on a regular basis.  But most of the things that make us afraid are learned.  This allows us to adapt so that novel dangers encountered today can be responded to tomorrow.  The learning is rapid and the memories created are long-lived. They in fact seem to persist throughout life.  Fears can be reduced in various ways, but even when successfully treated they can always remerge, especially in the fact of stress.

The second, longer lecture focused on the brain mechanisms of fear.  The region of the brain most clearly associated with the fear is the amygdala.  This structure gets its name from the Greek word for almond, a designation that came about because of the shape of one of the amygdala subregions.  Althought the amygdala has a dozen or so divisions, two are especially important for fear.  The lateral nucleus receives inputs about dangerous stimuli and the central nucleus controls the expression of fear responses. The amygdala is also responsible for learning about novel threats and storing the information in a way that allows rapid expression of fear response when the need arises.  This brain area is significantly altered in psychiatric conditions involving fear and anxiety, but in depression, autism, and schizophrenia as well. Fear is not the only function of the amygdala, but is the function that is best understood.

This was an experiment in using rock music as a means of enhancing public understanding of science.  It obviously doesn’t go into a lot of detail in the minute and a half exposition.  You can learn much more by reading a chapter in a book.  But the point is that maybe– just maybe– hearing about the brain in the context of a rock song might make you more inclined to pick up one of my books, or someone else’s, and explore the topic in greater detail.

Below, we include the full lyrics to the song, as well as the text of the two mini-lectures.  More information about fear can be found at my lab website and in my books, The Emotional Brain (Simon and Schuster) and Synaptic Self (Viking).

“Fearing,” as originally recorded, can be heard in the player on the band’s website.  You can also join our mailing list there to keep up with the band’s adventures in brain rock, or what we sometimes call Rock-It Science.

Check back here at The Beautiful Brain for further installments.  The next one will be track 2, “Mind Over Matter.”  This song also has a music video associated with it.  It is a more traditional music video, done in French surrealism style not unlike what might be found in a Michel Gondry film.  Alexis Gambis and the Imagine Science Film Festival produced this one.  Be sure to go to and join the mailing list to find out when the “Mind Over Matter” blog and video are up.

Until next time, may your fears be few and far between, and your mind be capable of controlling your matter (but not so much that you aren’t enjoying yourself). As “Nowhere Man” failed to understand, “the world is at your command.”

Joseph LeDoux is a University Professor, Henry and Lucy Moses Professor of Science, Professor of Neural Science and Psychology and Child Psychiatry at NYU. He is also the Director of the Emotional Brain Institute at NYU and at the Nathan Kline Institute. The author of two best-selling books, The Emotional Brain and Synaptic Self, LeDoux is also a the singer and song writer of The Amygdaloids, a band of scientists that plays music about mind and brain and mental disorders.

Fearing (adapted from E. Dickinson

by Joseph LeDoux)

While I was fearing it came

But with less of the fear because

Fearing it so long

Had almost made it dear

There is a fitting dismay

An appropriate despair

Tis harder knowing that fear is due than

Knowing it is here

The waiting is the worse

It ties you up in knots

Anticipation a curse

A thousand empty shots

If to fear were merry

And to worry were gay

How blithe would be the memory

Of that awful day

When hell was turned loose

A full psychic assault

A fearful memory so cruel

Could it be my fault

If recollecting were forgetting

Then I remember not

And if forgetting recollecting

How nearly I forgot

But recollecting is not forgetting

It’s vivid rehearsal of pain

It reminds me of that day

It keeps fear in my brain

If recollecting were forgetting

Then I remember not

And if forgetting recollecting

How nearly I forgot

But recollecting is not forgetting

It’s vivid rehearsal of pain

It reminds me of that day

It keeps fear in my brain

It keeps me a waiting

But not waiting in vain

It keeps me a waiting

It keeps fear in my brain

It keeps me a waiting

It keeps fear in my brain

Text of the 2 mini-lectures.

Lecture 1: the functional or psychological aspects of fear

Fear is the most basic and primitive emotion

It occurs when we encounter danger

An animal can put off the good stuff eating, drinking sex for days

But responding to danger must be immediate

Or there will be no more eating, drinking or sex.

The fear response is the same humans and other mammals

Muscles tense, heart beats fast, hormones flow

These responses help keep us alive when threats arise.

Lecture 2: the neuroscience of fear

Evolution says, “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it”

Indeed, the brain mechanisms of fear are highly conserved

The amygdala is a key structure

It detects danger and produces hard wired protective responses

The amygdala also forms emotional memories

It uses these to predict harm in the future

Fear learning is rapid and persistent

While fear memories can be controlled but are hard to eliminate

The amygdala is hyperactive in many psychiatric conditions

Some of which can be treated with drugs

While others respond better to psychotherapy

We need better treatments for fear

The Country of the Face-Blind

[ 9 ] June 6, 2010

Contributor Sam McDougle Reports on Friday evening’s “Strangers in the Mirror” event at the 2010 World Science Festival in New York City.

Prosopagnosia, or “Face Blindness,” can be a devastating affliction.

Imagine: after suffering a stroke, the faces of your loved ones are no longer the unmistakable visages they once were, but are now unrecognizable collages of noses, lips, eyes, and ears.  You can’t tell your loved ones from strangers, and mirrors are less reflections of yourself than they are opportunities for embarrassing run-ins with a similar looking person who has a spot-on impression of you.

Friday evening’s World Science Festival event “Strangers in the Mirror” was a poignant , compelling, and surprisingly (though respectfully) humorous glance into the lives of the face-blind.  The event was moderated by Robert Krulwich (Radiolab, Nightline, Frontline) and the guests were neurologist and author Oliver Sacks and the artist Chuck Close.  Both men are notable thinkers in their respective fields, prolific in their bodies of work, talented orators and educators, and severe prosopagnosics.


Sacks began the narrative of his disease with a story:  He and a physicist made plans to meet at a restaurant for some scientific musing.  On his arrival, the hostess sent Sacks to the table where the physicist was sitting, and they began their conversation.  Unbeknownst to Dr. Sacks, his dinner guest also suffered from severe face blindness.

This improbable fact was not discovered by either man until the physicist, after a course or two, went to the bathroom. He emerged to find that neither he nor Sacks remembered each other’s faces.  An amusing man hunt ensued as the physicist looked for the right table and Sacks wondered where his guest was, like two blind-daters searching for each other at a crowded restaurant.

Sacks first acknowledged his deficit when he was twelve.  He recounted “saying hi to people I didn’t even know,” in a kind of lottery strategy so that he may eventually say hi to a friend and put on that he recognized them.

While Sacks noted sometimes remembering the faces of his loved ones after years of exposure (an important consolation that some prosopagnosics lack), at times he is subject to forgetting even the most recognizable faces – he playfully remarked about “apologizing for almost running into an older bearded man,” who happened to be his reflection.  Krulwich then asked if he recognized his neighbors and Sacks swiftly quipped, “I recognize their dogs.”


Chuck Close has a similar story.  He also felt he was “born with” the deficit and believed it to be his main push towards painting portraits.  He knew he was disabled (though there was likely no word for face blindness at the time of Close’s youth), and thoughtfully mentioned that disabilities often implore one to “find other venues for their intellect.”  Without explaining what “other” really meant, his implication was clear – face blindness certainly blocked some “traditional” professional paths, professions that involve working closely with people and managing day-to-day social interactions.  Close chose the life of the artist.

Close’s inimitable portraits are known for their juxtaposition of the part and whole of the image – each portrait is made up of small square paintings that, on their own, resemble abstract shapes.  However, when the viewer pulls back from the painting the whole face is revealed.

Chuck Close, self portrait

Chuck Close, "Self Portrait"

Curiously, Close mentioned having less trouble recognizing celebrity faces than faces in his daily life.  He found it easy to recognize faces when they were static, “flattened out” images (portraits!), but struggled in 3-dimnesions, saying, “move your head one half inch and it’s a face I’ve never seen before.”


The neurophysiology of face blindness is certainly not completely understood, but there are some hints.  The fusiform gyrus is the area of the cortex involved specifically with facial recognition, and surely plays a role in face blindness.  Acute damage to the area (stroke, cancer, injury) is thought to be related to trauma-induced face blindness.  However, Sacks and Close both have congenital face blindness, and they both report other deficits, including problems with remembering places and navigating.  I caught up with Dr. Sacks after the event and asked him if this points to a more systematic (rather than acute) problem in the congenital vs. acquired prosopagnosic brain.  He said that probably is the case, and referred to his own illness as less of a specific face-recognition deficit than as a more categorical issue – the face as a whole is not a category-worthy object to him because he only sees it in parts (eyes, mouth, nose), and this makes it less likely to lodge in his memory.  It seems that congenital prosopagnosics have trouble seeing the forest instead of the trees.

At the end of the meeting, Krulwich, Sacks, and Close discussed the prevalence of face blindness in the world, and it seems clear that many more people have it than we think and much more can be done to help them.  Sacks painted a picture of hundreds of thousands living in “private embarrassment,” while Close lightheartedly joked about the vast number of prosopagnosics that are likely incarcerated.  Eventually those who suffer from face blindness will know they don’t suffer alone, and perhaps seek therapies that can mitigate the social and personal fallout of the disease.  It only takes the successes of two men like Dr. Sacks and Chuck Close to see that there are always “other venues,” for the disabled among us.  I await a prosopagnosic-written comedy screenplay about a man who incessantly apologizes to a stranger in the mirror.

Page 4 of 6123456