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Davi Johnson Thornton is an Assistant Professor of Communication Studies at Southwestern University. Her new book, Brain Culture: Neuroscience and Popular Media, investigates the ways in which the human brain has become a pop culture icon. (If Warhol were around today, he'd have a series of silkscreens dedicated to the cortex; the amygdala would hang alongside Marilyn Monroe.) One of Thornton's many insightful observations is that our discourse on the brain is defined by a series of seeming contradictions. On the one hand, the brain is "the most complicated object in the universe" and "the final frontier of modern science." And yet, we also routinely describe the brain as the most practical of organs, a machine we can harness and hack for endless self-improvement. Because these rhetorical habits shape our conception of the brain - and how people like me write about it - I asked Professor Thornton a few questions about her research.
LEHRER: In Brain Culture, you note that brain imagery - those colorful snapshots of the cortex from PET scans and fMRI machines - plays a large role in driving popular conceptions of neuroscience. (It is that rare form of scientific data that gets splashed across the pages of newspapers and glossy magazines.) How has the availability of this imagery changed the way we think about the brain?
THORNTON: I think that brain imagery changes our thinking about the brain in two major ways. First, I think it encourages us to think of almost everything through the brain, or in terms of the brain. We see in popular media all of the brain images with various labels attached - happy brain, sad brain, focused brain, brain after exercise, and so forth - and we get the constant reinforcement that everything--our feelings, activities, states of mind, habits, moods - is about the brain. Second, it suggests that the brain is calculable, that we can change all of these things as long as we have enough knowledge of the brain. All of the images teach us that we can relatively easily get a map or visual that shows us precisely what is going on, where it is going on, and to what extent it is going on. This fosters the sense that we can intervene in very precise ways to change our brains and realize very specific outcomes: if you want to be happier, you can do things - whether meditation or antidepressants or diet and exercise routines - that will have a focused effect on the brain in a specific area responsible for happiness. So the brain becomes central to everyday life in new and very interesting ways, and this is what I want to analyze and assess in Brain Culture.
LEHRER: You also argue that the discussions of the brain have become inevitably linked to messages of self-improvement, and that the jargon of neuroscience has been shackled to the traditional aims of self-help manuals. What are the dangers of this trend?
THORNTON: This also goes back to that idea that the brain is calculable. The way these brain-based self-help discourses are written are very tricky: on the one hand they promise empowerment--if you know enough about your brain, you can change your brain to create yourself anew. Yet they are also linked to a lot of anxiety--everything you do has an effect on the brain, whether you want it to or not. So together, I think these messages foster a relentless attention to the self that can be unproductive, if not destructive. Basically if you take all of this to heart you have to have these two constant tracks running through your head: All of the time you have to constantly think "How is this affecting my brain? What is this going to do to my brain, and hence my future self?" and at the same time you also have to think "How is my brain influencing my current mood, behavior, state? Is my brain functioning optimally, or am I failing to live up to my fullest potential--and hence need to work on my brain?" You are always diagnosing your brain based on your mood or behavior, and at the same time always trying to mold your brain by giving it the appropriate inputs. It really seems exhausting.
LEHRER: How do you think the language of neuroscience has altered the conversation around the developing brain? Has it changed the way we think about early childhood?
THORNTON: The language of neuroscience definitely fuels an "anxious parenting" mentality--everything you do molds the child's brain, permanently influencing your child's future life (job, mental health, intelligence, and so forth). This is scary stuff--some of the language I look at uses neuroscience to suggest that a single mistake at the wrong time (an aggressive tone, yelling at the child) can have permanent effects on the child's emotional stability. Of course, we have always had various ways of promoting - as well as contesting - the anxious parenting mentality, so the neuroscientific version isn't totally new, it's just the latest reinvention. But the neuroscientific language and images give it a particularly persuasive quality that I think is especially nerve-wracking--popular magazine features tell us that we can see, on a second-by-second basis, how our every word and behavior are permanently influencing our child's brain.
LEHRER: You trace the ways in which we've conceptualized the brain as a "vast frontier waiting to be discovered." This strikes me as a unique metaphor in the life sciences. We might talk about space as the "final frontier," but we generally don't talk about the kidneys as a frontier. Why do you think we see the brain as a territory that can be conquered?
THORNTON: I think this is a unique metaphor--it goes back to the idea that the brain is everything. I see this message all the time in these discourses I am looking at: "You _are_ your brain." It's the ultimate dream--through science we can fully know all that there is to know about human nature, and then control it perfectly. That is part of what makes these discourses so interesting to me, how it's not just about science or medicine, but ultimately about this fascination with revealing the ultimate secrets of human existence.
LEHRER: How do you think journalists and scientists can improve the public discourse around the brain?
THORNTON: In the book, I try not to make it sound as if there is some true story of the brain that scientists and journalists have mistranslated or misunderstood. As a scholar of public discourse, I am generally less interested in whether it's true or false, and more interested in what kind of effects it has in particular cultural contexts. So I wouldn't want to advocate any simple "improvement"--all discourses are going to have various effects, and how they are judged or valued is going to be contingent on a number of complex factors. On the other hand, I do think that it is helpful to keep some of the claims made about the brain, brain imaging, and neuroscience in historical context. Brain imaging is relatively new, but the idea that science is just about to unravel the secrets of the brain and, as a result, offer huge social improvements, is very, very old. Putting this in historical context might help to temper some of the claims about the promises of contemporary imaging. I would also want to say that I don't think brain imaging, neuroscience, or public discourse about the brain are "bad" in any way. While I do want to get a sense of their consequences and understand them in context, I don't think that type of judgment is really very effective. In the book, I'm trying to parse out the consequences and effects of these brain languages and images--good, bad, and ambiguous--at the level of culture, politics and economics, and withhold anything like an ultimate judgment.
