Scans of Monks' Brains Show Meditation Alters
Structure, Functioning
By Sharon Begley
5 November 2004, Published in The Wall Street Journal
(Copyright (c) 2004, Dow Jones & Company, Inc.)
ALL OF THE
Dalai Lama's guests peered intently at the brain scan projected onto
screens at either end of the room, but what different guests they were.
On one side sat five neuroscientists, united in their belief that physical
processes in the brain can explain all the wonders of the mind, without
appeal to anything spiritual or nonphysical. Facing them sat dozens
of Tibetan Buddhist monks in burgundy-and-saffron robes, convinced that
one round-faced young man in their midst is the reincarnation of one
of the Dalai Lama's late teachers, that another is the reincarnation
of a 12th-century monk, and that the entity we call "mind"
is not, as neuroscience says, just a manifestation of the brain.
It was not,
in other words, your typical science meeting.
But although
the Buddhists and scientists who met for five days last month in the
Dalai Lama's home in Dharamsala, India, had different views on the little
matters of reincarnation and the relationship of mind to brain, they
set them aside in the interest of a shared goal. They had come together
in the shadows of the Himalayas to discuss one of the hottest topics
in brain science: neuroplasticity.
The term
refers to the brain's recently discovered ability to change its structure
and function, in particular by expanding or strengthening circuits that
are used and by shrinking or weakening those that are rarely engaged.
In its short history, the science of neuroplasticity has mostly documented
brain changes that reflect physical experience and input from the outside
world. In pianists who play many arpeggios, for instance, brain regions
that control the index finger and middle finger become fused, apparently
because when one finger hits a key in one of these fast-tempo movements,
the other does so almost simultaneously, fooling the brain into thinking
the two fingers are one. As a result of the fused brain regions, the
pianist can no longer move those fingers independently of one another.
LATELY,
HOWEVER, scientists have begun to wonder whether the brain can change
in response to purely internal, mental signals. That's where the Buddhists
come in. Their centuries-old tradition of meditation offers a real-life
experiment in the power of those will-o'-the-wisps, thoughts, to alter
the physical matter of the brain.
"Of
all the concepts in modern neuroscience, it is neuroplasticity that
has the greatest potential for meaningful interaction with Buddhism,"
says neuroscientist Richard Davidson of the University of Wisconsin,
Madison.
The Dalai
Lama agreed, and he encouraged monks to donate (temporarily) their brains
to science. The result was the scans that Prof. Davidson projected in
Dharamsala. They compared brain activity in volunteers who were novice
meditators to that of Buddhist monks who had spent more than 10,000
hours in meditation. The task was to practice "compassion"
meditation, generating a feeling of loving kindness toward all beings.
"We
tried to generate a mental state in which compassion permeates the whole
mind with no other thoughts," says Matthieu Ricard, a Buddhist
monk at Shechen Monastery in Katmandu, Nepal, who holds a Ph.D. in genetics.
IN A STRIKING
difference between novices and monks, the latter showed a dramatic increase
in high-frequency brain activity called gamma waves during compassion
meditation. Thought to be the signature of neuronal activity that knits
together far-flung brain circuits, gamma waves underlie higher mental
activity such as consciousness. The novice meditators "showed a
slight increase in gamma activity, but most monks showed extremely large
increases of a sort that has never been reported before in the neuroscience
literature," says Prof. Davidson, suggesting that mental training
can bring the brain to a greater level of consciousness.
Using the
brain scan called functional magnetic resonance imaging, the scientists
pinpointed regions that were active during compassion meditation. In
almost every case, the enhanced activity was greater in the monks' brains
than the novices'. Activity in the left prefrontal cortex (the seat
of positive emotions such as happiness) swamped activity in the right
prefrontal (site of negative emotions and anxiety), something never
before seen from purely mental activity. A sprawling circuit that switches
on at the sight of suffering also showed greater activity in the monks.
So did regions responsible for planned movement, as if the monks' brains
were itching to go to the aid of those in distress. "It feels like
a total readiness to act, to help," recalled Mr. Ricard.
The study
will be published next week in Proceedings of the National Academy of
Sciences. "We can't rule out the possibility that there was a pre-existing
difference in brain function between monks and novices," says Prof.
Davidson, "but the fact that monks with the most hours of meditation
showed the greatest brain changes gives us confidence that the changes
are actually produced by mental training."
That opens
up the tantalizing possibility that the brain, like the rest of the
body, can be altered intentionally. Just as aerobics sculpt the muscles,
so mental training sculpts the gray matter in ways scientists are only
beginning to fathom.