The generational brain: Introduction

Regeneration and brain fitness

Studies investigating the regeneration of neuronal connectivity and functioning which were lost due to lesions have a long history in neurology. With the discovery that the mammalian brain changes constantly over the whole life span and that neurons are newly generated even in the adult brain (Lindvall & McKay, 2003; Zhang & Meaney, 2009), the hopes for the development of regenerative therapies have increased tremendously. Ever since, stimulation therapies to generate cell growth and regenerate neurons have been discussed as a form of treatment for both Alzheimer’s (Uchida, 2010) and Parkinson’s diseases (Bjorklund, Rosenblad, Winkler, & Kirik, 1997). Even conventional practical approaches in rehabilitation, such as occupational therapy and logopedics, are now studied for their effects on the plasticity of specific brain areas (Bowden, Woodbury, & Duncan, 2013).

At the same time a whole new industry of brain recreation tools from music to mathematical puzzles—now renamed “brain jogging” devices—has emerged, promising to enhance your brain’s “fitness.” They are distributed via websites ¹ or compiled in brain training apps, ² and are advertised with labels such as “designed by neuroscientists” and “scientifically validated.” Most of these programs promise to improve your memory, concentration, problem solving skills, and flexibility of thinking. Some also promise to reduce stress and anxiety by training your brain to be happier or to think positive. ³ The providers of these technologies collaborate with health insurance companies, universities, and government agencies. This not only seemingly demonstrates their credibility but also creates a kind of urgency. Training your brain seems to become as important as physical training, watching your diet, and stopping smoking. In addition, private agencies and initiatives advertise conventional teaching programs and courses for groups “at risk.” These programs are tailored either to the “young brain” to help school children improve their performance by addressing cognitive skills, concentration, or behavioral problems, ⁴ or they cater to the elderly, promising to reduce or slow down the general loss of cognitive functions and to even “prevent” Alzheimer’s Disease and Dementia. ⁵

Through such discourses and products, neuroscience promises a deeper understanding of specific cognitive skills, productive learning environments, and physiological health’s relationship to learning (Ansari, Coch, & de Smedt, 2011). However, despite claims as to neuroscience’s growing ubiquity and a growing number of brain training programs, the relationship between education and neuroscience research is still tenuous according to some bibliographic analyses (Merkx, van Koten, Gurney, & van den Besselaar, 2009), with direct applications being of limited success (Ansari et al., 2011). Ansari et al. (p. 37) argue that the excited expectation that neuroscience will profoundly and instantly transform education is “shortsighted and unrealistic” and based on myths rather than rigorous research. At the moment, a much larger impact of these studies, practices, and promises is elsewhere; at the level of self-perception and theories of the self and subjectivity.

Neuroplasticity and response-ability

The social interrelatedness, if not embeddedness, of the brain and its functions is increasingly being recognized. The “emotional brain” (LeDoux, 1998), the “social brain” (Dunbar, 2009), and the “empathic brain” (Keysers, 2011) mark new reference points in the field. Neuroscientists themselves point to the complexity at hand, where time, change, and context are increasingly acknowledged as profound factors. The implicit proposition of the above is that “human beings are freed from their biology by virtue of that biology – that we come into the world unfinished” (Rose & Abi-Rached, 2013, p. 2). Rose and Abi-Rached thus claim a cautious optimism in that such work may dismantle the simplistic claims of contemporary individualism. In this issue, Clifford van Ommen and Vasi van Deventer (2016) attempt to demonstrate this point through a close reading of the work of the neuroscientist Joseph LeDoux, arguing that a vulnerable and deeply embedded brain-subjectivity may be discerned in this work.

The new route to success outlined for us is through brain intervention. Not only have we, according to Andreasen, steadily recognized that mental illnesses are diseases of the brain (Andreasen, 1997, p. 1586; see also Garza & Fisher Smith, 2009) where it is, therefore, neurochemistry and neurostructure that are responsible for mind. We are also dealing here with cognitive enhancement (Coveney, 2011), that is, with being able to compete more effectively on the open market through an endless project of self-optimization or “brain-based healthism” (Thornton, 2011, p. 2). The irony of this is that stigma and social exclusion now surrounds the failure to take responsibility—displaying characterological (moral) deficits—rather than due to having neurological pathology. Rowson (2011) refers to this as the “age of neurological reflexivity” (as cited in Rose & Abi-Rached, 2013, p. 22).

Developmentally, one consequence of this logic is that all aging becomes problematized (Williams, Higgs, & Katz, 2012). We are increasingly held responsible for making our brains response-able. For Rose and Abi-Rached (2013) this exceeds the obsession with risk and its management to an attempt to govern the future. Ironically, it also leads to a concern with the past as the developmental pathways of “pathologies” are discerned so as to engage in preventative intervention. For example, it obliges parents to be on the constant lookout for signs of childhood deviation and, as Williams et al. (2012) point out, for the young to prepare earlier for the imagined difficulties of later aging. Both the development of the self project and the solution of social problems are ultimately then a matter of synaptic strengthening (Thornton, 2011). It is up to the individual to take responsibility for such an opportunity to change and to tackle these duties through the utilization of relevant techniques and practices identified by neuroscience.

Among the practices that have recently become entwined with neuroscience are those referred to under the label “mindfulness.” In this issue, Choudhury and Moses (2016) examine this relationship and the debate that has emerged around the contemporary fascination with mindfulness. Instead of such interventions being seen as inherently liberating or as individualizing social problems, thus inviting social passivity, they are a striking example of the ambivalence of the neuroplasticity paradigm. As Choudhury and Moses argue, there is something more nuanced and complex to be discerned in the accounts of practitioners involved in these programs which promise to influence the brain through mindfulness training, especially of those working in education. What is suggested is that these practices may enable a more socially aware and effective agency.

Neuro/science

At first glance, imaging studies seem to be taking over in the developmental sciences. The use of imaging techniques to study brain development not only contributes to the overall hype associated with brain research but also transforms those disciplines formerly concerned with questions of childhood development and aging, especially psychology and education, into auxiliary sciences for the new generation of developmental neuroscientists. This has consequences for study designs, methods, and theory. Within psychology the relationship with neuroscience is especially intriguing and—again—ambivalent. Psychologists are in continuous danger of engaging in simplistic neuroreductionism. The concomitant fear of neuroreductionism should, however, not result in a retreat from neuroscience since, as John Cromby (2016) demonstrates in this issue, the latter can render traditional psychiatric categories such as schizophrenia inadequate and therefore unsustainable and antiquated. Similarly, the deepening understanding of the limits of genetics has also undermined simplistic determinist claims giving rise to new fields such as epigenetics (Rose & Abi-Rached, 2013). In their contribution to this issue, Niko Steinbeis and Daniel Margulies (2016) argue that neuroscience methods can be used to inform developmental theory. Using Theory of Mind deliberations, they demonstrate how different imaging methods and paradigms can help provide insights into the enduring debate on the nature of developmental continuity. They also indicate how neuro data can usefully constrain the hypotheses generated within psychology.

The question this then raises is what are the limits of neuroscience itself? Two contributions in this issue address this question: Rom Harré (2016) points out different mereological fallacies active within neuroscience’s attempts to answer psychological questions which he identifies as a basis for neuroreductionism. He offers clarification through the specification of the “grammars” used to describe a scientific problem which would allow us to integrate the knowledge generated in different disciplines in a non-reductive manner. For psychology, he argues, instead of conflating persons with brains we should understand the brain and its subdivisions as tools for psychological functions. Articulating a different argument, Vasi van Deventer (2016) tackles science’s perennial promise of mastery, indicating that neuroscience’s ambitions will necessarily have to be more modest given the process and possibility of self-representation. This has implications for ambitious and expensive projects such as the Human Brain Project, but importantly does not mean that neuroscience is rendered impossible but rather that the limits of what it can claim are necessarily more moderate.

The above points toward the need to examine the disciplinary structure of the discipline; that is, to be alert to how the criteria for legitimate knowledge are themselves historical products that exist within an institutional and hierarchical structure which acts as a gatekeeper. In the age of neoliberal universities, entrepreneurial professors, and corporate collaboration, identifying the sociopolitical trace within, and consequences of, these criteria is more important than ever. Furthermore, in this time of proliferating neuro-disciplines, we need to identify and keep in clear focus the forms of subject matter excluded from both the academic gaze and funding avenues. This is a point made by Vidal and Ortega (2012). They state that neuro-research “is diverting enormous financial and human resources from action and thought in social and psychological arenas where they would have a greater chance of making a difference” (p. 362). In other words, we need to be clear to ourselves as to why the brain matters so much at this point in history.

The brain generation and neuroculture

Within the first decades of the 21st century, we are told that we now live in a neuroculture (Vidal & Ortega, 2012) and a biological age (Rose, 2013). As Thornton (2011) points out: “There is nothing that cannot be viewed in terms of its relation to the brain” (p. 124). Brain discourse is rapidly disseminated as the legitimate grounds for explanation and, consequently, psychological and social conflicts are becoming widely constructed and discussed as “brain disease.” This attribution of competence to brain research is supported by visualization techniques which produce colorful brain images eagerly distributed in scientific publications and the popular media (Rose & Abi-Rached, 2013). It is through such images, where self is equated to brain, that we are convinced that the mind has finally been rendered visible. As Gergen (2007) argued, the science/society barrier is porous; discourses and images flow beyond the gates of the laboratory and back into the enclosure in a continuous process of influence, utilization, and transformation. The neurological preoccupation extends far beyond the pursuits of the researchers, commerce, and the academy. Via multiple forms of media, subjectivity is rendered neurobiological as the sociocultural contingency of the subject is marginalized (Pickersgill & van Keulen, 2012). Neuroscientifically inspired conceptualizations of the subject have made their way into marketing, education, and public policymaking (Pykett, 2013). Hollywood portrays “brains” and “neurons” as not only the core of the individual but also its transgenerational eternity. Fernando Vidal (2016) demonstrates this in this issue by examining renderings of brain transplantations in both films and literature and how they tie together fantasies regarding desire, immortality, and eternal youth that long predate the neurosciences.

The role of psychotropic drugs as cognitive enhancement strategies is popular not only in scientific discourses but also in the mainstream media, including in movies and self-help literature. Neuroscience creates a new “brain” generation; first, of researchers—in neurology, psychiatry, and psychology—and second, of those who grow up in a society influenced by these new technologies, concepts, and images of the brain, omnipresent not only in popular science books but also in literary texts, movies, and the mass media in general. Here, neuroculture as a field of practices for proceeding with and acting on one’s own life and for managing populations needs to be considered (Williams et al., 2012). Within this culture we are called on to effectively manage our risk and potentiality, while policies engage in increasingly individualized forms of social control (Rose, 2007). Within such a culture the age-old social concerns, such as how to best rear our children, how to manage our antisocial predilections, and how to most effectively turn a profit, are now translated into brain discourse. This translation however, frequently obfuscates what are the same-old conservative solutions (Thornton, 2011) and most of the time it neglects the contradictions, ambivalences, and modes of resistance implied both in discursive and research practices.

The generational brain

Rose and Abi-Rached (2013) make a plea for the social sciences to engage in a “critical friendship” (p. 3) with neuroscience in which there is much to appreciate in the work of neuroscientists. Similarly, Williams et al. (2012) recognize that the field is not monolithic but “complex, dynamic, multi-layered and multi-sited” (p. 73), offering us both problematic notions and radical possibilities. We claim the same for our relationship with developmental neuroscience: it is more than worthwhile to study both the problematic notions and the radical possibilities of this new research field.

This not only includes careful scrutiny of neuroscience data: the concepts and methods used to differentiate developmental stages and age groups in these new research projects are themselves, like data, generated and articulated historically through disciplines such as psychology, education, and sociology. These need also to be taken into account when evaluating new findings. For example, cultural and historical research has shown that our understanding of childhood, adolescence, adulthood, and old age not only varies between cultural contexts, but has also changed drastically over time. The modern notion that childhood represents a qualitatively different stage of human development did not emerge until the 17th century (e.g., Milne, 2013). The concept of adolescence as a transitional stage between childhood and adulthood associated with risk-taking and oppositional behavior arose in the 19th century specifically in Western cultures (Epstein, 2007) and the definition of adolescence still varies strongly across cultures (Arnett, 2007). Furthermore, on a methodological level, developmental neuroscience introduced longitudinal studies and age cohort comparisons to the field of brain studies. These methods are a sociological import and build on a definition of “generations” which identifies subpopulations by age.

This definition of “generation” as age cohort was first conceptualized as such by the sociologist Karl Mannheim and outlined in his paper “Das Problem der Generationen” (The Problem of Generations), published in 1928. Here, Mannheim established his sociological project of generation analysis not only in contrast to class analysis, but also in contrast to two earlier meanings of the word “generation”: generation as a subunit of a historical genealogy, defined by birth and death, and associated with historical progress and cultural advancements; and generation as a group of intellectuals, scientists, or artists sharing the same cultural-historical experiences or similar ideas. The former, Mannheim assigned to a positivistic perspective in the humanities, according to which the old are always conservative and the young represent innovation and the avant-garde. Today, this notion is still present in discussions about technical development and the use of devices such as iPhones and tablet PCs. The latter, Mannheim characterized as a romantic approach common in the humanities. However, in addition to Mannheim’s three meanings of generation—as age cohort, as a group sharing experiences or ideas, and as a subunit in genealogy—the term generation also refers to the propagation of living organisms. This notion of generation, as Sigrid Weigel in her book Genea-Logik (2006) pointed out, represents the other side of the modern concept of generation. Like the notions of generation used in the humanities, this notion is also rooted in the ancient as well as biblical history of the concept of genealogy, but explicitly focuses on the biological side of descent and procreation. In this context, generation also refers to the debate between preformationism and the theory of epigenesis in the 18th and 19th centuries, which, on the one hand, was one of the preconditions for the theory of evolution, and, on the other hand, built the basis for a modern notion of embryology, therefore establishing the study of biological development on two scales: phylogenesis and ontogenesis.

With the working hypothesis of “the generational brain,” we propose that it is fruitful to use this multiplicity of meanings of the word “generation,” as well as the underlying notion of the historicity of scientific concepts and methods, as a stimulus to interrogate, formulate, and reformulate questions currently addressed in developmental neuroscience in particular and neuroscience in general. The hypothesis of “the generational brain” allows, first, to highlight the sociological concept of generation as age cohort as the methodological foundation of developmental neuroscience. Second, the meaning of generation as creation and development addresses the subject matter of developmental neuroscience—the developing brain and its neuroplasticity—as well as all the hopes and cultural practices inspired by this new research field. By addressing a wide range of these dimensions, the contributions to this special issue give an early impression of what a critical friendship with developmental neuroscience, aware of its sociocultural and epistemological implications as well as historicity of concepts, may look like.