Iconoclast: A Neuroscientist Reveals How to Think Differently (28 page)

There seems to be a direct correspondence between the development of specific cognitive functions and the onset of synaptic pruning in the parts of the brain that implement those functions. It may seem strange that less gray matter actually corresponds to maturity and not the other way around. The best explanation for this phenomenon is that the brain becomes more efficient at processing certain types of information as it matures. Initially, the brain has no template of what the world looks like. As the individual gains experience, the brain becomes better
at predicting how the world works. One of the primary mechanisms of learning appears to be a specialization of synapses, which means getting rid of synapses that don’t contribute and retaining those that do.

There is one exception to the pattern of declining gray matter density with age. The most lateral aspects of the brain, in the posterior temporal and inferior parietal lobes, show an unusual profile of gray matter change. Unlike all the other brain regions, which decrease rapidly beginning in adolescence, these parts of the temporal and parietal lobes show a subtle
increase
in gray matter density until about age thirty. Gray matter in this region remains remarkably stable for decades, only to decline precipitously at the onset of old age. These are the very same regions involved in perception that were highlighted in chapters 1 and 2. If we can take declining gray matter density as an index of maturity, then this suggests that in many ways perception may not ever be mature. Perception, in particular, may be the most plastic and adaptable of all cognitive functions. There is a catch. Although perception remains plastic far longer than other cognitive functions, this plasticity begins to peter out beginning around age thirty. This may explain why so many of the early adopters tend to be young adults. In addition to a robust dopamine system, their perceptual processes are more open to seeing the world in new ways.

So what about the genes? I have made a big deal about the role of dopamine in novelty seeking. And although there are statistically significant relationships between different variants of genes, such as COMT, the question remains as to how important genes are relative to experience. Making the picture more complex, genes are not static. So although one person may possess a particular form of the COMT gene, it is not active at the same level all the time. COMT activity changes throughout the life cycle and, to some extent, in response to environmental events. One study that examined the level of COMT activity in the prefrontal cortex found a steady doubling of activity from the infant
brain to the adult brain.
¹⁰
This age-related increase in COMT is similar in magnitude to that conferred by the type of gene an individual possesses and is yet another argument for targeting young adults as a bridge to the general population.

I Feel So Young

So, is early adoption all about youth? The biological evidence makes for a strong case that novelty seeking peaks during adolescence and early adulthood. Add to this the relative plasticity of the perceptual system before age thirty, and you have a strong argument for marketing to this demographic group.

The brain is lazy. It changes only when it has to. And the conditions that consistently force the brain to rewire itself are when it confronts something novel. Novelty equals learning, and learning means physical rewiring of the brain. It is a biological fact that youthful brains are more easily rewired than old brains. For the iconoclast to become an icon, not only must he possess an exceptionally plastic brain that can see things differently, but he must rewire the brains of a vast number of other people who are not iconoclasts. From this perspective, it makes sense to start with the people whose brains are most likely to be receptive to new experiences and are in such a state that they can be rewired.

As we have seen, one strategy is to appeal to the minority of the population who are generally more open to new ideas, while the other strategy is to make the new ideas seem more familiar. It helps to dichotomize these approaches because they tap into very different biological mechanisms in the brain. The novelty-seeking strategy appeals to young brains that are trying to get a leg up in the Darwinian struggle for mating rights. Possessing the newest piece of technology—for example, an iPhone—is like having a peacock’s tail. It is costly in terms of time to learn new ideas, and new technology is expensive. So, for the
youthful brain trying to impress competitors or members of the opposite sex, these items scream, “I am so fit that I can afford to take the time and money to invest in this new gadget.”

But what if the target demographic is older? All is not lost. Although the youthful brain is more easily rewired, the older brain is not necessarily frozen in a state of inertia. It may be harder to change than the adolescent’s brain, but it will change under the right circumstances. For a new idea to be adopted by a large percentage of an older population, factors such as familiarity and compatibility may weigh more heavily than the dopamine kick that accompanies novelty. Jonas Salk became an icon not through a newfangled vaccine, but through an approach that was familiar to millions of parents.

The iconoclast trying to reach a larger audience faces a tough decision in his marketing approach. Go for the high-dopamine novelty seekers and hope that they will serve as a bridge to the rest of the population, or go for the conservative masses, in which case the idea must be wrapped in a cloak of familiarity? In many ways, these two approaches are polar opposites. Aiming for one group will alienate the other. And there is no middle ground. Trying to strike a balance between novelty and familiarity will likely achieve neither.

The journey from iconoclast to icon goes beyond the three themes highlighted in this book. The “average” iconoclast possesses a perceptual system that can see things differently than other people. He conquers his fear of failure and fear of the unknown, and possesses enough social intelligence to sell his idea to other people. But the iconoclast who goes beyond mere success and becomes an icon, like Steve Jobs, possesses something even more elusive. He has the knack of wide appeal. For an iconoclast to become an icon, large numbers of people who are not themselves iconoclastic must come to accept an idea that is new to them. And that can only be achieved through one of the two roads: novelty or familiarity. Youth or experience.

S
O IT COMES DOWN TO THIS
: perception, courage, and social skills. The successful iconoclast learns to see things clearly for what they are and is not influenced by other people’s opinions. He keeps his amygdala in check and doesn’t let fear rule his decisions. And he expertly navigates the complicated waters of social networking so that other people eventually come to see things the way he does.

Sounds like hard work.

Neuroscience continues to reveal many of the secrets of the brain and how biological functions sometimes get in the way of innovative thinking. Knowing which parts of the brain perform functions related to perception, fear, and social relationships lets us understand how these functions go awry and how to correct them. If we have learned anything about the brain, it is how amazingly adaptable it is. While genes set the biological foundation, the structure of the brain is not static. Almost any
function in the brain can be changed through hard work, practice, and experience.

While it is human nature to want to improve ourselves, that takes hard work. Wouldn’t it be easier to swallow a pill that made you more daring or more willing to speak your mind? The brain contains all the machinery that runs the mind, and many, if not all, of the traits that make for iconoclastic thinking have their basis in how the brain functions. Because it is a biophysical organ, operating according to known biological and chemical reactions, the brain’s functioning can also be altered, at least temporarily through the ingestion of drugs.

What follows is a brief summary of the known effects of certain psychoactive drugs.
In no way should this be taken as medical advice. Many of these substances are potentially harmful and may lead to death or disability
. Some are controlled substances and are illegal to possess without a prescription. Others are flat-out banned.

Pharmacology 101

Every drug begins its journey by entering the body through some route. After that, its fate is determined by the competing processes of absorption and elimination. There are only a handful of ways to get a drug into the body. You either swallow it, inject it, or inhale it. The first is called the oral route; everything else is parenteral. Injections come in three flavors that depend on the depth of the shot. They can be in the skin (subcutaneous), in the muscle (intramuscular), or in a vein (intravenous). Finally, there is the mucosal route of administration, which includes absorption through membranes in the nose (intranasal) or under the tongue (sublingual).

Depending on the route of administration, a drug will be absorbed into the body at different rates. Intravenous administration, because it is directly into the bloodstream, is the fastest. Inhalation is almost as fast. Oral is the slowest because the drug must be absorbed through the
GI tract, which can take anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour. During absorption, the concentration of the drug increases steadily in the bloodstream. At the same time, the body begins to eliminate the drug, mainly through the kidneys. The rate of elimination depends on how water soluble the drug is and how well the individual’s kidneys function. Age takes a toll on this process. By age sixty, the kidneys filter at about 75 percent of the rate they do at age twenty. As a result, older individuals have a slower rate of elimination of most drugs. You will often hear of a drug’s
half-life
. This is the time it takes the body to cut the blood concentration of the drug in half. The slower the rate of elimination, the longer the half-life, and the longer the drug will exert its effect in the body. Short-acting drugs have half-lives of an hour or two, while long-acting drugs have half-lives of many hours, or even days.

Know the half-life of what you take. It determines how long you will be experiencing its effects!

Some drugs are eliminated unchanged in the urine. Others go through a chemical transformation in the body called
metabolism
. For most drugs, metabolism occurs in the liver. Sometimes the metabolism converts the drug to an inactive form, but other times, the liver converts it into an active form. No hard-and-fast rules here, but if you take other drugs that are metabolized by the liver, they can interact with each other. There are so many drugs out there that it is impossible to know which ones will interact with each other. In 1990, the
Journal of the American Medical Association
published a case report of a thirty-nine-year-old woman who suffered a serious heart arrhythmia while taking the allergy medicine Seldane, along with an antifungal drug, ketoconazole. The latter inhibited the metabolism of Seldane, which, at high blood concentrations, can cause a fatal heart arrhythmia. Along with several other drugs that caused the same side effect, Seldane was eventually taken off the market.

Be careful with mixing drugs, including over-the-counter medications.

Once inside the body, the drug is then free to do its voodoo, but first it has to get where it needs to be. How does a drug know where to go? It doesn’t. It goes everywhere but exerts its effect only on cells that have chemical receptors that the drug can bind to. Cells are little self-contained units. They are tiny bags of protoplasm with a tough skin of fatty, waxy material called the
cell membrane
. The membrane keeps the innards of the cell on the inside and the stuff on the outside out. The only way in or out is through special proteins and channels stuck in the cell membrane. This is where drugs work. They bind to a
receptor
in the cell membrane, and, as a result of this binding, cause a chain of biochemical events inside the cell.

The receptors, of course, don’t exist for man-made drugs. They bind chemicals and hormones within the body. Drugs just hijack these receptors. If a drug mimics the effect of a naturally occurring chemical at the receptor, it is called an
agonist
. Some drugs block the receptor, in effect preventing its natural function. These are called
antagonists
. Because there is a limited concentration of a given receptor on a cell, it is possible to saturate all of them with a drug. This happens when the concentration of the drug exceeds the concentration of receptors. At this point, it doesn’t matter how much more drug you take. No further effect is possible.

There is a subtlety here. Most drugs are not very discriminating. They will bind avidly to the receptor for which they are designed, but they will also bind, albeit weakly, to other receptors. When this happens, you get side effects.

Increasing the dose of a drug may increase its intended effect only to a point. After that, only the side effects will increase.

Drugs That Change Perception

Iconoclasm begins with perception, so our discussion of psychotropic drugs begins with the broad class of substances known as hallucinogens.
¹
The prototype, of course, is lysergic acid diethylamide—aka LSD. But there are many, many others.
²
Discovered by the Swiss chemist Albert Hoffman in 1938, while working at the pharmaceutical company Sandoz, LSD was derived from a fungus that grew on grain. This broad class of naturally occurring chemicals, called ergot alkaloids, have been known for centuries to possess psychotropic properties. Some of the ergots are used to treat migraine headaches. What they all have in common is their resemblance to the neurotransmitter serotonin. LSD is startlingly potent. While most drugs require a dose from 1 to 100 milligrams to exert an effect, LSD needs only about 20
micro
grams. This means that on a per-weight basis, LSD is about one thousand times more potent than most every other drug that acts on the brain. Even more interesting, there is little evidence that people become addicted to hallucinogens. Nevertheless, LSD is classified by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) as a Schedule I drug, which means that there is no therapeutic potential, and it is illegal to possess.