Every now and then, i’m browsing RSS on the tube commute and come across a study that makes me laugh out loud. This of course results in me receiving lots of ‘tuts’ from my co-commuters. Anyhow, the latest such entry to the world of cognitive neuroscience is a study examining brain response to drum beats in shamanic practitioners. Michael Hove and colleagues of the Max Planck Institute in Leipzig set out to study “Perceptual Decoupling During an Absorptive State of Consciousness” using functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI). What exactly does that mean? Apparently: looking at how brain connectivity in ‘experienced shamanic practitioners’ changes when they listen to rhythmic drumming. Hove and colleagues explain that across a variety of cultures, ‘quasi-isochronous drumming’ is used to induce ‘trance states’. If you’ve ever been dancing around a drum circle in the full moon light, or tranced out to shpongle in your living room, I guess you get the feeling right?
Anyway, Hove et al recruited 15 participants who were trained in “core shamanism,” described as:
“a system of techniques developed and codified by Michael Harner (1990) based on cross-cultural commonalities among shamanic traditions. Participants were recruited through the German-language newsletter of the Foundation of Shamanic Studies and by word of mouth.”
They then played these participants rhythmic isochronous drumming (trance condition) versus drumming with a more regular timing. In what might be the greatest use of a Likert scale of all time, Participants rated if [they] “would describe your experience as a deep shamanic journey?” (1 = not at all; 7 = very much so)”, and indeed described the trance condition as more well, trancey. Hove and colleagues then used a fairly standard connectivity analysis, examining eigenvector centrality differences between the two drumming conditions, as well as seed-based functional connectivity:
Hove et al report that compared to the non-trance conditions, the posterior/dorsal cingulate, insula, and auditory brainstem regions become more ‘hublike’, as indicated by a higher overall degree centrality of these regions. Further, they experienced stronger functionally connectivity with the posterior cingulate cortex. I’ll let Hove and colleagues explain what to make of this:
“In sum, shamanic trance involved cooperation of brain networks associated with internal thought and cognitive control, as well as a dampening of sensory processing. This network configuration could enable an extended internal train of thought wherein integration and moments of insight can occur. Previous neuroscience work on trance is scant, but these results indicate that successful induction of a shamanic trance involves a reconfiguration of connectivity between brain regions that is consistent across individuals and thus cannot be dismissed as an empty ritual.”
Ultimately the authors conclusion seems to be that these brain connectivity differences show that, if nothing else, something must be ‘really going on’ in shamanic states. To be honest, i’m not really sure anyone disagreed with that to begin with. Collectively I can’t critique this study without thinking of early (and ongoing) meditation research, where esoteric monks are placed in scanners to show that ‘something really is going on’ in meditation. This argument to me seems to rely on a folk-psychological misunderstanding of how the brain works. Even in placebo conditioning, a typical example of a ‘mental effect’, we know of course that changes in the brain are responsible. Every experience (regardless how complex) has some neural correlate. The trick is to relate these neural factors to behavioral ones in a way that actually advances our understanding of the mechanisms and experiences that generate them. The difficulty with these kinds of studies is that all we can do is perform reverse inference to try and interpret what is going on; the authors conclusion about changes in sensory processing is a clear example of this. What do changes in brain activity actually tell us about trance (and other esoteric) states ? Certainly they don’t reveal any particular mechanism or phenomenological quality, without being coupled to some meaningful understanding of the states themselves. As a clear example, we’re surely pushing reductionism to its limit by asking participants to rate a self-described transcendent state using a unidirectional likert scale? The authors do cite Francisco Varela (a pioneer of neurophenemonological methods), but don’t seem to further consider these limitations or possible future directions.
Overall, I don’t want to seem overly critical of this amusing study. Certainly shamanic traditions are a deeply important part of human cultural history, and understanding how they impact us emotionally, cognitively, and neurologically is a valuable goal. For what amounts to a small pilot study, the protocols seem fairly standard from a neuroscience standpoint. I’m less certain about who these ‘shamans’ actually are, in terms of what their practice actually constitutes, or how to think about the supposed ‘trance states’, but I suppose ‘something interesting’ was definitely going on. The trick is knowing exactly what that ‘something’ is.
Future studies might thus benefit from a better direct characterization of esoteric states and the cultural practices that generate them, perhaps through collaboration with an anthropologist and/or the application of phenemonological and psychophysical methods. For now however, i’ll just have to head to my local drum circle and vibe out the answers to these questions.
Hello everyone! After an amazing visit back home to Tampa Florida for VSS and a little R&R in Denmark i’m back and feeling better than ever. Some of you may have noticed that i’ve been on an almost 6 month blogging hiatus. I’m just going to come right out and admit that after moving from Denmark to London, I really wasn’t sure what direction I wanted to take my blog. Changing institutions is always a bit of a bewildering experience, and a wise friend once advised me that it’s sometimes best to quietly observe new surroundings before diving right in. I think I needed some time to get used to being a part of the awesomeness that is the Queen Square neuroimaging hub. I also needed some time to reflect on the big picture of my research, this blog, and my overall social media presence.
But fear not! After the horrors of settling into London, I’m finally comfortable in my skin again with a new flat, a home office almost ready, and lots and lots of new ideas to share with you. I think part of my overall hesitancy was a kind of pondering just what I should be sharing. But I didn’t get this far by bottling up my research, so there isn’t much point in shuttering myself in now! I expect to be back to blogging in full form in the next week, as new projects here begin to get underway. But where is my research going?
The big picture will largely remain the same. I am interested as always in human consciousness, thought, self-awareness, and our capacity for growth along these dimensions. One thing I really love about my post-doc is that I’ve finally found a kind of thread weaving throughout my research all the way back to the days when I collected funny self-narratives in a broom closet at UCF. I think you could say I’m trying to connect the dots between how dynamic bodies shape and interact with our reflective minds, using the tools of perceptual decision making, predictive coding, and neuroimaging. Currently i’m developing a variety of novel experimental paradigms examining embodied self-awareness (i.e. our somatosensory, interoceptive, and affective sense of self), perceptual decision making and metacognition, and interrelations between these. You can expect to hear more about these topics soon.
Indeed, a principle reason I chose to join the FIL/ICN team was the unique emphasis and expertise here on predictive coding. My research has always been united by an interest in growth, plasticity, and change. During my PhD I came to see predictive coding/free energy schemes as a unifying framework under-which to unite our understanding of embodied and neural computation in terms of our ability to learn from new experiences. As such I’m very happy to be in a place where not only can I be on the cutting edge of theoretical development, but also receive first-hand training in applying the latest computational modelling, connectivity, and multi-modal imaging techniques to my research questions. As always, given my obvious level of topical ADHD, you can be sure to expect coverage of a wide-range of cogneuro and cogsci topics.
So in general, you can expect posts covering these topics, my upcoming results, and general musings along these lines. As always i’m sure there will be plenty of methodsy nitpicking and philosophical navel gathering. In particular, my recent experience with a reviewer insisting that ’embodiment’ = interoception has me itching to fire off a theoretical barrage – but I guess I should wait to publish that paper before taking to the streets. In the near future I have planned a series of short posts covering some of the cool posters and general themes I observed at the Vision Sciences Society conference this fall.
Finally, for my colleagues working on mindfulness and meditation research, a brief note. As you can probably gather, I don’t intend to return to this domain of study in the near future. My personal opinion of that topic is that it has become incredibly overhyped and incestous- the best research simply isn’t rising to the top. I know that many of the leaders in that community are well aware of that problem and are working to correct it, but for me I knew it was time to part ways and return to more general research. I do believe that mindfulness has an important role to play in both self-awareness and well-being, and hope that the models I am currently developing might one day further refine our understanding of these practices. However, I guess it’s worth noting that for me, meditation was always more of a kind of Varellian way to manipulate plasticity and consciousness rather than an end in itself; as I no longer buy into the enactive/neurophenomenological paradigm, I guess it’s self explanatory that I would be moving on to other things (like actual consciousness studies! :P). I do hope to see that field continue to grow and mature, and look forward to fruitful collaborations along those lines.
That’s it folks! Prepare yourself for a new era of neuroconscience 🙂 Cheers to an all new year, all new research, and new directions! Viva la awareness!
Among the cognitive training literature, meditation interventions are particularly unique in that they often emphasize emotional or affective processing at least as much as classical ‘top-down’ attentional control. From a clinical and societal perspective, the idea that we might be able to “train” our “emotion muscle” is an attractive one. Recently much has been made of the “empathy deficit” in the US, ranging from empirical studies suggesting a relationship between quality-of-care and declining caregiver empathy, to a recent push by President Obama to emphasize the deficit in numerous speeches.
While much of the training literature focuses on cognitive abilities like sustained attention and working memory, many investigating meditation training have begun to study the plasticity of affective function, myself included. A recent study by Helen Weng and colleagues in Wisconsin investigated just this question, asking if compassion (“loving-kindness”) meditation can alter altruistic behavior and associated neural processing. Her study is one of the first of its kind, in that rather than merely comparing groups of advanced practitioners and controls, she utilized a fully-randomized active-controlled design to see if compassion responds to brief training in novices while controlling for important confounds.
As many readers should be aware, a chronic problem in training studies is a lack of properly controlled longitudinal design. At best, many rely on “passive” or “no-contact” controls who merely complete both measurements without receiving any training. Even in the best of circumstances “active” controls are often poorly matched to whatever is being emphasized and tested in the intervention of interest. While having both groups do “something” is better than a passive or no-control design, problems may still arise if the measure of interest is mismatched to the demand characteristics of the study. Stated simply, if your condition of interest receives attention training and attention tests, and your control condition receives dieting instruction or relaxation, you can expect group differences to be confounded by an explicit “expectation to improve” in the interest group.
In this regard Weng et al present an almost perfect example of everything a training study should be. Both interventions were delivered via professionally made audio CDs (you can download them yourselves here!), with participants’ daily practice experiences being recorded online. The training materials were remarkably well matched for the tests of interest and extra care was taken to ensure that the primary measures were not presented in a biased way. The only thing they could have done further would be a single blind (making sure the experimenters didn’t know the group identity of each participant), but given the high level of difficulty in blinding these kinds of studies I don’t blame them for not undertaking such a manipulation. In all the study is extremely well-controlled for research in this area and I recommend it as a guideline for best practices in training research.
Specifically, Weng et al tested the impact of loving-kindness compassion meditation or emotion reappraisal training on an emotion regulation fMRI task and behavioral economic game measuring altruistic behavior. For the fMRI task, participants viewed emotional pictures (IAPS) depicting suffering or neutral scenarios and either practiced a compassion meditation or reappraisal strategy to regulate their emotional response, before and after training. After the follow-up scan, good-old fashion experimental deception was used to administer a dictator economics-game that was ostensibly not part of the primary study and involved real live players (both deceptions).
For those not familiar with the dictator game, the concept is essentially that a participant watches a “dictator” endowed with 100$ give “unfair” offers to a “victim” without any money. Weng et al took great care in contextualizing the test purely in economic terms, limiting demand confounds:
Participants were told that they were playing the game with live players over the Internet. Effects of demand characteristics on behavior were minimized by presenting the game as a unique study, describing it in purely economic terms, never instructing participants to use the training they received, removing the physical presence of players and experimenters during game play, and enforcing real monetary consequences for participants’ behavior.
This is particularly important, as without these simple manipulations it would be easy for stodgy reviewers like myself to worry about subtle biases influencing behavior on the task. Equally important is the content of the two training programs. If for example, Weng et al used a memory training or attention task as their active-control group, it would be difficult not to worry that behavioral differences were due to one group expecting a more emotional consequence of the study, and hence acting more altruistic. In the supplementary information, Weng et al describe the two training protocols in great detail:
… Participants practiced compassion for targets by 1) contemplating and envisioning their suffering and then 2) wishing them freedom from that suffering. They first practiced compassion for a Loved One, such as a friend or family member. They imagined a time their loved one had suffered (e.g., illness, injury, relationship problem), and were instructed to pay attention to the emotions and sensations this evoked. They practiced wishing that the suffering were relieved and repeated the phrases, “May you be free from this suffering. May you have joy and happiness.” They also envisioned a golden light that extended from their heart to the loved one, which helped to ease his/her suffering. They were also instructed to pay attention to bodily sensations, particularly around the heart. They repeated this procedure for the Self, a Stranger, and a Difficult Person. The Stranger was someone encountered in daily life but not well known (e.g., a bus driver or someone on the street), and the Difficult Person was someone with whom there was conflict (e.g., coworker, significant other). Participants envisioned hypothetical situations of suffering for the stranger and difficult person (if needed) such as having an illness or experiencing a failure. At the end of the meditation, compassion was extended towards all beings. For each new meditation session, participants could choose to use either the same or different people for each target category (e.g., for the loved one category, use sister one day and use father the next day).
… Participants were asked to recall a stressful experience from the past 2 years that remained upsetting to them, such as arguing with a significant other or receiving a lower-than- expected grade. They were instructed to vividly recall details of the experience (location, images, sounds). They wrote a brief description of the event, and chose one word to best describe the feeling experienced during the event (e.g., sad, angry, anxious). They rated the intensity of the feeling during the event, and the intensity of the current feeling on a scale (0 = No feeling at all, 100 = Most intense feeling in your life). They wrote down the thoughts they had during the event in detail. Then they were asked to reappraise the event (to think about it in a different, less upsetting way) using 3 different strategies, and to write down the new thoughts. The strategies included 1) thinking about the situation from another person’s perspective (e.g., friend, parent), 2) viewing it in a way where they would respond with very little emotion, and 3) imagining how they would view the situation if a year had passed, and they were doing very well. After practicing each strategy, they rated how reasonable each interpretation was (0 = Not at all reasonable, 100 = Completely reasonable), and how badly they felt after considering this view (0 = Not bad at all, 100 = Most intense ever). Day to day, participants were allowed to practice reappraisal with the same stressful event, or choose a different event. Participants logged the amount of minutes practiced after the session.
In my view the active control is extremely well designed for the fMRI and economic tasks, with both training methods explicitly focusing on the participant altering an emotional response to other individuals. In tests of self-rated efficacy, both groups showed significant decreases in negative emotion, further confirming the active control. Interestingly when Weng et al compared self-ratings over time, only the compassion group showed significant reduction from the first half of training sessions to the last. I’m not sure if this constitutes a limitation, as Weng et al further report that on each individual training day the reappraisal group reported significant reductions, but that the reductions themselves did not differ significantly over time. They explain this as being likely due to the fact that the reappraisal group frequently changed emotional targets, whereas the compassion group had the same 3 targets throughout the training. Either way the important point is that both groups self-reported similar overall reductions in negative emotion during the course of the study, strongly supporting the active control.
Now what about the findings? As mentioned above, Weng et al tested participants before and after training on an fMRI emotion regulation task. After the training, all participants performed the “dictator game”, shown below. After rank-ordering the data, they found that the compassion group showed significantly greater redistribution:
For the fMRI analysis, they analyzed BOLD responses to negative vs neutral images at both time points, subtracted the beta coefficients, and then entered these images into a second-level design matrix testing the group difference, with the rank-ordered redistribution scores as a covariate of interest. They then tested for areas showing group differences in the correlation of redistribution scores and changes of BOLD response to negative vs neutral images (pre vs post), across the whole brain and in several ROIs, while properly correcting for multiple comparisons. Essentially this analysis asks, where in the brain do task-related changes in BOLD correlate more or less with the redistribution score in one group or another. For the group x covariate interaction they found significant differences (increased BOLD-covariate correlation) in the right inferior parietal cortex (IPC), a region of the parietal attention network, shown on the left-hand panel:
They further extracted signal from the IPC cluster and entered it into a conjunction analysis, testing for areas showing significant correlation with the IPC activity, and found a strong effect in right DLPFC (right panel). Finally they performed a psychophysiological interaction (PPI) analysis with the right DLPFC activity as the seed, to determine regions showing significant task-modulated connectivity with that DLPFC activity. The found increased emotion-modulated DLPFC connectivity to nucleus accumbens, a region involved in encoding positive rewards (below, right).
Together these results implicate training-related BOLD activity increases to emotional stimuli in the parietal attention network and increased parietal connectivity with regions implicated in cognitive control and reward processing, in the observed altruistic behavior differences. The authors conclude that compassion training may alter emotional processing through a novel mechanism, where top-down central-executive circuits redirect emotional information to areas associated with positive reward, reflecting the role of compassion meditation in emphasizing increased positive emotion to the aversive states of others. A fitting and interesting conclusion, I think.
Overall, the study should receive high marks for its excellent design and appropriate statistical rigor. There is quite a bit of interesting material in the supplementary info, a strategy I dislike, but that is no fault of the authors considering the publishing journal (Psych Science). The question itself is extremely novel, in terms of previous active-controlled studies. To date only one previous active-controlled study investigated the role of compassion meditation on empathy-related neuroplasticity. However that study compared compassion meditation with a memory strategy course, which (in my opinion) exposes it to serious criticism regarding demand characteristic. The authors do reference that study, but only briefly to state that both studies support a role of compassion training in altering positive emotion- personally I would have appreciated a more thorough comparison, though I suppose I can go and to that myself if I feel so inclined :).
The study does have a few limitations worth mentioning. One thing that stood out to me was that the authors never report the results of the overall group mean contrast for negative vs neutral images. I would have liked to know if the regions showing increased correlation with redistribution actually showed higher overall mean activation increases during emotion regulation. However as the authors clearly had quite specific hypotheses, leading them to restrict their alpha to 0.01 (due to testing 1 whole-brain contrast and 4 ROIs), I can see why they left this out. Given the strong results of the study, it would in retrospect perhaps have been more prudent to skip the ROI analysis (which didn’t seem to find much) and instead focus on testing the whole brain results. I can’t blame them however, as it is surprising not to see anything going on in insula or amygdala for this kind of training. It is also a bit unclear to me why the DLPFC was used as the PPI seed as opposed to the primary IPC cluster, although I am somewhat unfamiliar with the conjunction-connectivity analysis used here. Finally, as the authors themselves point out, a major limitation of the study is that the redistribution measure was collected only at time two, preventing a comparison to baseline for this measure.
Given the methodological state of the topic (quite poor, generally speaking), I am willing to grant them these mostly minor caveats. Of course, without a baseline altruism measure it is difficult to make a strong conclusion about the causal impact of the meditation training on altruism behavior, but at least their neural data are shielded from this concern. So while we can’t exhaustively conclude that compassion can be trained, the results of this study certainly suggest it is possible and perhaps even likely, providing a great starting point for future research. One interesting thing for me was the difference in DLPFC. We also found task-related increases in dorsolateral prefrontal cortex following active-controlled meditation, although in the left hemisphere and for a very different kind of training and task. One other recent study of smoking cessation also reported alteration in DLPFC following mindfulness training, leading me to wonder if we’re seeing the emergence of empirical consensus for this region’s specific involvement in meditation training. Another interesting point for me was that affective regulation here seems to involve primarily top-down or attention related neural correlates, suggesting that bottom-up processing (insula, amygdala) may be more resilient to brief training, something we also found in our study. I wonder if the group mean-contrasts would have been revealing here (i.e. if there were differences in bottom-up processing that don’t correlate with redistribution). All together a great study that raises the bar for training research in cognitive neuroscience!
I was asked to write a brief summary of my PhD research for our annual CFIN report. I haven’t blogged in a while and it turned out to be a decent little blurb, so I figured I might as well share it here. Enjoy!
In the past decade, reports concerning the natural plasticity of the human brain have taken a spotlight in the media and popular imagination. In the pursuit of neural plasticity nearly every imaginable specialization, from taxi drivers to Buddhist monks, has had their day in the scanner. These studies reveal marked functional and structural neural differences between various populations of interest, and in doing so drive a wave of interest in harnessing the brain’s plasticity for rehabilitation, education, and even increasing intelligence (Green and Bavelier, 2008). Under this new “mental training” research paradigm investigators are now examining what happens to brain and behavior when novices are randomized to a training condition, using longitudinal brain imaging.
These studies highlight a few promising domains for harnessing neural plasticity, particularly in the realm of visual attention, cognitive control, and emotional training. By randomizing novices to a brief ‘dose’ of action video game or meditation training, researchers can go beyond mere cross-section and make inferences regarding the causality of training on observed neural outcomes. Initial results are promising, suggesting that domains of great clinical relevance such as emotional and attentional processing are amenable to training (Lutz et al., 2008a; Lutz et al., 2008b; Bavelier et al., 2010). However, these findings are currently obscured by a host of methodological limitations.
These span from behavioral confounds (e.g. motivation and demand characteristic) to inadequate longitudinal processing of brain images, which present particular challenges not found in within-subject or cross-sectional design (Davidson, 2010; Jensen et al., 2011). The former can be addressed directly by careful construction of “active control” groups. Here both comparison and control groups receive putatively effective treatments, carefully designed to isolate the hypothesized “active-ingredients” involved in behavioral and neuroplasticity outcomes. In this way researchers can simultaneously make inferences in terms of mechanistic specificity while excluding non-specific confounds such as social support, demand, and participant motivation.
We set out to investigate one particularly popular intervention, mindfulness meditation, while controlling for these factors. Mindfulness meditation has enjoyed a great deal of research interest in recent years. This popularity is largely due to promising findings indicating good efficacy of meditation training (MT) for emotion processing and cognitive control (Sedlmeier et al., 2012). Clinical studies indicate that MT may be particularly effective for disorders that are typically non-responsive to cognitive-behavioral therapy, such as severe depression and anxiety (Grossman et al., 2004; Hofmann et al., 2010). Understanding the neural mechanism underlying such benefits remains difficult however, as most existing investigations are cross-sectional in nature or depend upon inadequate “wait-list” passive control groups.
We addressed these difficulties in an investigation of functional and structural neural plasticity before and after a 6-week active-controlled mindfulness intervention. To control demand, social support, teacher enthusiasm, and participant motivation we constructed a “shared reading and listening” active control group for comparison to MT. By eliciting daily “experience samples” regarding participants’ motivation to practice and minutes practiced, we ensured that groups did not differ on common motivational confounds.
We found that while both groups showed equivalent improvement on behavioral response-inhibition and meta-cognitive measures, only the MT group significantly reduced affective-Stroop conflict reaction times (Allen et al., 2012). Further we found that MT participants show significantly greater increases in recruitment of dorsolateral prefrontal cortex than did controls, a region implicated in cognitive control and working memory. Interestingly we did not find group differences in emotion-related reaction times or BOLD activity; instead we found that fronto-insula and medial-prefrontal BOLD responses in the MT group were significantly more correlated with practice than in controls. These results indicate that while brief MT is effective for training attention-related neural mechanisms, only participants with the greatest amount of practice showed altered neural responses to negative affective stimuli. This result is important because it underlines the differential response of various target skills to training and suggests specific applications of MT depending on time and motivation constraints.
In a second study, we utilized a longitudinally optimized pipeline to assess structural neuroplasticity in the same cohort as described above (Ashburner and Ridgway, 2012). A crucial issue in longitudinal voxel-based morphometry and similar methods is the prevalence of “asymmetrical preprocessing”, for example where normalization parameters are calculated from baseline images and applied to follow-up images, resulting in inflated risk of false-positive results. We thus applied a totally symmetrical deformation-based morphometric pipeline to assess training related expansions and contractions of gray matter volume. While we found significant increases within the MT group, these differences did not survive group-by-time comparison and thus may represent false positives; it is likely that such differences would not be ruled out by an asymmetric pipeline or non-active controlled designed. These results suggest that brief MT may act only on functional neuroplasticity and that greater training is required for more lasting anatomical alterations.
These projects are a promising advance in our understanding of neural plasticity and mental training, and highlight the need for careful methodology and control when investigating such phenomena. The investigation of neuroplasticity mechanisms may one day revolutionize our understanding of human learning and neurodevelopment, and we look forward to seeing a new wave of carefully controlled investigations in this area.
You can read more about the study in this blog post, where I explain it in detail.
Allen M, Dietz M, Blair KS, van Beek M, Rees G, Vestergaard-Poulsen P, Lutz A, Roepstorff A (2012) Cognitive-Affective Neural Plasticity following Active-Controlled Mindfulness Intervention. The Journal of Neuroscience 32:15601-15610.
Ashburner J, Ridgway GR (2012) Symmetric diffeomorphic modeling of longitudinal structural MRI. Frontiers in neuroscience 6.
Bavelier D, Levi DM, Li RW, Dan Y, Hensch TK (2010) Removing brakes on adult brain plasticity: from molecular to behavioral interventions. The Journal of Neuroscience 30:14964-14971.
Davidson RJ (2010) Empirical explorations of mindfulness: conceptual and methodological conundrums. Emotion 10:8-11.
Green C, Bavelier D (2008) Exercising your brain: a review of human brain plasticity and training-induced learning. Psychology and Aging; Psychology and Aging 23:692.
Grossman P, Niemann L, Schmidt S, Walach H (2004) Mindfulness-based stress reduction and health benefits: A meta-analysis. Journal of Psychosomatic Research 57:35-43.
Hofmann SG, Sawyer AT, Witt AA, Oh D (2010) The effect of mindfulness-based therapy on anxiety and depression: A meta-analytic review. Journal of consulting and clinical psychology 78:169.
Jensen CG, Vangkilde S, Frokjaer V, Hasselbalch SG (2011) Mindfulness training affects attention—or is it attentional effort?
Lutz A, Brefczynski-Lewis J, Johnstone T, Davidson RJ (2008a) Regulation of the neural circuitry of emotion by compassion meditation: effects of meditative expertise. PLoS One 3:e1897.
Lutz A, Slagter HA, Dunne JD, Davidson RJ (2008b) Attention regulation and monitoring in meditation. Trends Cogn Sci 12:163-169.
Sedlmeier P, Eberth J, Schwarz M, Zimmermann D, Haarig F, Jaeger S, Kunze S (2012) The psychological effects of meditation: A meta-analysis.
Here in the science blog-o-sphere we often like to run to the presses whenever a laughably bad study comes along, pointing out all the incredible feats of ignorance and sloth. However, this can lead to science-sucks cynicism syndrome (a common ailment amongst graduate students), where one begins to feel a bit like all the literature is rubbish and it just isn’t worth your time to try and do something truly proper and interesting. If you are lucky, it is at this moment that a truly excellent paper will come along at the just right time to pick up your spirits and re-invigorate your work. Today I found myself at one such low-point, struggling to figure out why my data suck, when just such a beauty of a paper appeared in my RSS reader.
The paper, “Brief body-scan meditation practice improves somatosensory perceptual decision making”, appeared in this month’s issue of Consciousness and Cognition. Laura Mirams et al set out to answer a very simple question regarding the impact of meditation training (MT) on a “somatic signal detection task” (SSDT). The study is well designed; after randomization, both groups received audio CDs with 15 minutes of daily body-scan meditation or excerpts from The Lord of The Rings. For the SSD task, participants simply report when they felt a vibration stimulus on the finger, where the baseline vibration intensity is first individually calibrated to a 50% detection rate. The authors then apply a signal-detection analysis framework to discern the sensitivity or d’ and decision criteria c.
Mirams et al found that, even when controlling for a host of baseline factors including trait mindfulness and baseline somatic attention, MT led to a greater increase in d’ driven by significantly reduced false-alarms. Although many theorists and practitioners of MT suggest a key role for interoceptive & somatic attention in related alterations of health, brain, and behavior, there exists almost no data addressing this prediction, making these findings extremely interesting. The idea that MT should impact interoception and somatosensation is very sensible- in most (novice) meditation practices it is common to focus attention to bodily sensations of, for example, the breath entering the nostril. Further, MT involves a particular kind of open, non-judgemental awareness of bodily sensations, and in general is often described to novice students as strengthening the relationship between the mind and sensations of the body. However, most existing studies on MT investigate traditional exteroceptive, top-down elements of attention such as conflict resolution and the ability to maintain attention fixation for long periods of time.
While MT certainly does involve these features, it is arguable that the interoceptive elements are more specific to the precise mechanisms of interest (they are what you actually train), whereas the attentional benefits may be more of a kind of side effect, reflecting an early emphasis in MT on establishing attention. Thus in a traditional meditation class, you might first learn some techniques to fixate your attention, and then later learn to deploy your attention to specific bodily targets (i.e. the breath) in a particular way (non-judgmentally). The goal is not necessarily to develop a super-human ability to filter distractions, but rather to change the way in which interoceptive responses to the world (i.e. emotional reactions) are perceived and responded to. This hypothesis is well reflected in the elegant study by Mirams et al; they postulate specifically that MT will lead to greater sensitivity (d’), driven by reduced false alarms rather than an increased hit-rate, reflecting a greater ability to discriminate the nature of an interoceptive signal from noise (note: see comments for clarification on this point by Steve Fleming – there is some ambiguity in interpreting the informational role of HR and FA in d’). This hypothesis not only reflects the theoretically specific contribution of MT (beyond attention training, which might be better trained by video games for example), but also postulates a mechanistically specific hypothesis to test this idea, namely that MT leads to a shift specifically in the quality of interoceptive signal processing, rather than raw attentional control.
At this point, you might ask if everyone is so sure that MT involves training interoception, why is there so little data on the topic? The authors do a great job reviewing findings (even including currently in-press papers) on interoception and MT. Currently there is one major null finding using the canonical heartbeat detection task, where advanced practitioners self-reported improved heart beat detection but in reality performed at chance. Those authors speculated that the heartbeat task might not accurately reflect the modality of interoception engaged in by practitioners. In addition a recent study investigated somatic discrimination thresholds in a cross-section of advanced practitioners and found that the ability to make meta-cognitive assessments of ones’ threshold sensitivity correlated with years of practice. A third recent study showed greater tactile sensation acuity in practitioners of Tai Chi. One longitudinal study [PDF], a wait-list controlled fMRI investigation by Farb et al, found that a mindfulness-based stress reduction course altered BOLD responses during an attention-to-breath paradigm. Collectively these studies do suggest a role of MT in training interoception. However, as I have complained of endlessly, cross-sections cannot tell us anything about the underlying causality of the observed effects, and longitudinal studies must be active-controlled (not waitlisted) to discern mechanisms of action. Thus active-controlled longitudinal designs are desperately needed, both to determine the causality of a treatment on some observed effect, and to rule out confounds associated with motivation, demand-characteristic, and expectation. Without such a design, it is very difficult to conclude anything about the mechanisms of interest in an MT intervention.
In this regard, Mirams went above and beyond the call of duty as defined by the average paper. The choice of delivering the intervention via CD is excellent, as we can rule out instructor enthusiasm/ability confounds. Further the intervention chosen is extremely simple and well described; it is just a basic body-scan meditation without additional fluff or fanfare, lending to mechanistic specificity. Both groups were even instructed to close their eyes and sit when listening, balancing these often overlooked structural factors. In this sense, Mirams et al have controlled for instruction, motivation, intervention context, baseline trait mindfulness, and even isolated the variable of interest- only the MT group worked with interoception, though both exerted a prolonged period of sustained attention. Armed with these controls we can actually say that MT led to an alteration in interoceptive d’, through a mechanism dependent upon on the specific kind of interoceptive awareness trained in the intervention.
It is here that I have one minor nit-pick of the paper. Although the use of Lord of the Rings audiotapes is with precedent, and likely a great control for attention and motivation, you could be slightly worried that reading about Elves and Orcs is not an ideal control for listening to hours of tapes instructing you to focus on your bodily sensations, if the measure of interest involves fixating on the body. A pure active control might have been a book describing anatomy or body parts; then we could exhaustively conclude that not only is it interoception driving the findings, but the particular form of interoceptive attention deployed by meditation training. As it is, a conservative person might speculate that the observed differences reflect demand characteristics- MT participants deploy more attention to the body due to a kind of priming mechanism in the teaching. However this is an extreme nitpick and does not detract from the fact that Mirams and co-authors have made an extremely useful contribution to the literature. In the future it would be interesting to repeat the paradigm with a more body-oriented control, and perhaps also in advanced practitioners before and after an intensive retreat to see if the effect holds at later stages of training. Of course, given my interest in applying signal-detection theory to interoceptive meta-cognition, I also cannot help but wonder what the authors might have found if they’d applied a Fleming-style meta-d’ analysis to this study.
All in all, a clear study with tight methods, addressing a desperately under-developed research question, in an elegant fashion. The perfect motivation to return to my own mangled data ☺
First, let me apologize for an overlong hiatus from blogging. I submitted my PhD thesis October 1st, and it turns out that writing two papers and a thesis in the space of about three months can seriously burn out the old muse. I’ve coaxed her back through gentle offerings of chocolate, caffeine, and a bit of videogame binging. As long as I promise not to bring her within a mile of a dissertation, I believe we’re good for at least a few posts per month.
With that taken care of, I am very happy to report the successful publication of my first fMRI paper, published last month in the Journal of Neuroscience. The paper was truly a labor of love taking nearly 3 years to complete and countless hours of head-scratching work. In the end I am quite happy with the finished product, and I do believe my colleagues and I managed to produce a useful result for the field of mindfulness training and neuroplasticity.
note: this post ended up being quite long. if you are already familiar with mindfulness research, you may want to skip ahead!
First, depending on what brought you here, you may already be wondering why mindfulness is an interesting subject, particularly for a cognitive neuroscientist. In light of the large gaps regarding our understanding of the neurobiological foundations of neuroimaging, is it really the right time to apply these complex tools to meditation? Can we really learn anything about something as potentially ambiguous as “mindfulness”? Although we have a long way to go, and these are certainly fair questions, I do believe that the study of meditation has a lot to contribute to our understanding of cognition and plasticity.
Generally speaking, when you want to investigate some cognitive phenomena, a firm understanding of your target is essential to successful neuroimaging. Areas with years of behavioral research and concrete theoretical models make for excellent imaging subjects, as in these cases a researcher can hope to fall back on a sort of ‘ground truth’ to guide them through the neural data, which are notoriously ambiguous and difficult to interpret. Of course well-travelled roads also have their disadvantages, sometimes providing a misleading sense of security, or at least being a bit dry. While mindfulness research still has a ways to go, our understanding of these practices is rapidly evolving.
At this point it helps to stop and ask, what is meditation (and by extension, mindfulness)? The first thing to clarify is that there is no such thing as “meditation”- rather meditation is really term describing a family resemblance of highly varied practices, covering an array of both spiritual and secular practices. Meditation or “contemplative” practices have existed for more than a thousand years and are found in nearly every spiritual tradition. More recently, here in the west our unending fascination of the esoteric has lead to a popular rise in Yoga, Tai Chi, and other physically oriented contemplative practices, all of which incorporate an element of meditation.
At the simplest level of description [mindfulness] meditation is just a process of becoming aware, whether through actual sitting meditation, exercise, or daily rituals. Meditation (as a practice) was first popularized in the west during the rise of transcendental meditation (TM). As you can see in the figure below, interest in TM lead to an early boom in research articles. This boom was not to last, as it was gradually realized that much of this initially promising research was actually the product of zealous insiders, conducted with poor controls and in some cases outright data fabrication. As TM became known as a cult, meditation research underwent a dark age where publishing on the topic could seriously damage a research career. We can see also that around the 1990’s, this trend started to reverse as a new generation of researchers began investigating “mindfulness” meditation.
It’s easy to see from the above why when Jon Kabat-Zinn re-introduced meditation to the West, he relied heavily on the medical community to develop a totally secularized intervention-oriented version of meditation strategically called “mindfulness-based stress reduction.” The arrival of MBSR was closely related to the development of mindfulness-based cognitive therapy (MBCT), a revision of cognitive-behavioral therapy utilizing mindful practices and instruction for a variety of clinical applications. Mindfulness practice is typically described as involving at least two practices; focused attention (FA) and open monitoring (OM). FA can be described as simply noticing when attention wanders from a target (the breath, the body, or a flower for example) and gently redirecting it back to that target. OM is typically (but not always) trained at an later stage, building on the attentional skills developed in FA practice to gradually develop a sense of “non-judgmental open awareness”. While a great deal of work remains to be done, initial cognitive-behavioral and clinical research on mindfulness training (MT) has shown that these practices can improve the allocation of attentional resources, reduce physiological stress, and improve emotional well-being. In the clinic MT appears to effectively improve symptoms on a variety of pathological syndromes including anxiety and depression, at least as well as standard CBT or pharmacological treatments.
Has the quality of research on meditation improved since the dark days of TM? When answering this question it is important to note two things about the state of current mindfulness research. First, while it is true that many who research MT are also practitioners, the primary scholars are researchers who started in classical areas (emotion, clinical psychiatry, cognitive neuroscience) and gradually became involved in MT research. Further, most funding today for MT research comes not from shady religious institutions, but from well-established funding bodies such as the National Institute of Health and European Research Council. It is of course important to be aware of the impact prior beliefs can have on conducting impartial research, but with respect to today’s meditation and mindfulness researchers, I believe that most if not all of the work being done is honest, quality research.
However, it is true that much of the early MT research is flawed on several levels. Indeed several meta-analyses have concluded that generally speaking, studies of MT have often utilized poor design – in one major review only 8/22 studies met criteria for meta-analysis. The reason for this is quite simple- in the absence of pilot data, investigators had to begin somewhere. Typically it doesn’t bode well to jump into unexplored territory with an expensive, large sample, fully randomized design. There just isn’t enough to go off of- how would you know which kind of process to even measure? Accordingly, the large majority of mindfulness research to date has utilized small-scale, often sub-optimal experimental design, sacrificing experimental control in order build a basic idea of the cognitive landscape. While this exploratory research provides a needed foundation for generating likely hypotheses, it is also difficult to make any strong conclusions so long as methodological issues remain.
Indeed, most of what we know about these mindfulness and neuroplasticity comes from studies of either advanced practitioners (compared to controls) or “wait-list” control studies where controls receive no intervention. On the basis of the findings from these studies, we had some idea how to target our investigation, but there remained a nagging feeling of uncertainty. Just how much of the literature would actually replicate? Does mindfulness alter attention through mere expectation and motivation biases (i.e. placebo-like confounds), or can MT actually drive functionally relevant attentional and emotional neuroplasticity, even when controlling for these confounds?
The name of the game is active-control
Research to date links mindfulness practices to alterations in health and physiology, cognitive control, emotional regulation, responsiveness to pain, and a large array of positive clinical outcomes. However, the explicit nature of mindfulness training makes for some particularly difficult methodological issues. Group cross-sectional studies, where advanced practitioners are compared to age-matched controls, cannot provide causal evidence. Indeed, it is always possible that having a big fancy brain makes you more likely to spend many years meditating, and not that meditating gives you a big fancy brain. So training studies are essential to verifying the claim that mindfulness actually leads to interesting kinds of plasticity. However, unlike with a new drug study or computerized intervention, you cannot simply provide a sugar pill to the control group. Double-blind design is impossible; by definition subjects will know they are receiving mindfulness. To actually assess the impact of MT on neural activity and behavior, we need to compare to groups doing relatively equivalent things in similar experimental contexts. We need an active control.
There is already a well-established link between measurement outcome and experimental demands. What is perhaps less appreciated is that cognitive measures, particularly reaction time, are easily biased by phenomena like the Hawthorne effect, where the amount of attention participants receive directly contributes to experimental outcome. Wait-lists simply cannot overcome these difficulties. We know for example, that simply paying controls a moderate performance-based financial reward can erase attentional reaction-time differences. If you are repeatedly told you’re training attention, then come experiment time you are likely expect this to be true and try harder than someone who has received no such instruction. The same is true of emotional tasks; subjects told frequently they are training compassion are likely to spend more time fixating on emotional stimuli, leading to inflated self-reports and responses.
I’m sure you can quickly see how it is extremely important to control for these factors if we are to isolate and understand the mechanisms important for mindfulness training. One key solution is active-control, that is providing both groups (MT and control) with a “treatment” that is at least nominally as efficacious as the thing you are interested in. Active-control allows you exclude numerous factors from your outcome, potentially including the role of social support, expectation, and experimental demands. This is exactly what we set out to do in our study, where we recruited 60 meditation-naïve subjects, scanned them on an fMRI task, randomized them to either six weeks of MT or active-control, and then measured everything again. Further, to exclude confounds relating to social interaction, we came up with a particularly unique control activity- reading Emma together.
Jane Austen as Active Control – theory of mind vs interoception
To overcome these confounds, we constructed a specialized control intervention. As it was crucial that both groups believed in their training, we needed an instructor who could match the high level of enthusiasm and experience found in our meditation instructors. We were lucky to have the help of local scholar Mette Stineberg, who suggested a customized “shared reading” group to fit our purposes. Reading groups are a fun, attention demanding exercise, with purported benefits for stress and well-being. While these claims have not been explicitly tested, what mattered most was that Mette clearly believed in their efficacy- making for a perfect control instructor. Mette holds a PhD in literature, and we knew that her 10 years of experience participating in and leading these groups would help us to exclude instructor variables from our results.
With her help, we constructed a special condition where participants completed group readings of Jane Austin’s Emma. A sensible question to ask at this point is – “why Emma?” An essential element of active control is variable isolation, or balancing your groups in such way that, with the exception of your hypothesized “active ingredient”, the two interventions are extremely similar. As MT is thought to depend on a particular kind of non-judgmental, interoceptive kind of attention, Chris and Uta Frith suggested during an early meeting that Emma might be a perfect contrast. For those of you who haven’t read the novel, the plot is brimming over with judgment-heavy theory-of-mind-type exposition. Mette further helped to ensure a contrast with MT by emphasizing discussion sessions focused on character motives. In this way we were able to ensure that both groups met for the same amount of time each week, with equivalently talented and passionate instructors, and felt that they were working towards something worthwhile. Finally, we made sure to let every participant know at recruitment that they would receive one of two treatments intended to improve attention and well-being, and that any benefits would depend upon their commitment to the practice. To help them practice at home, we created 20-minute long CD’s for both groups, one with a guided meditation and the other with a chapter from Emma.
Unlike previous active-controlled studies that typically rely on relaxation training, reading groups depend upon a high level of social-interaction. Reading together allowed us not only to exclude treatment context and expectation from our results, but also more difficult effects of social support (the “making new friends” variable). To measure this, we built a small website for participants to make daily reports of their motivation and minutes practiced that day. As you can see in the figure below, when we averaged these reports we found that not only did the reading group practice significantly more than those in MT, but that they expressed equivalent levels of motivation to practice. Anecdotally we found that reading-group members expressed a high level of satisfaction with their class, with a sub-group of about 8 even continued their meetings after our study concluded. The meditation group by comparison, did not appear to form any lasting social relationships and did not continue meeting after the study. We were very happy with these results, which suggest that it is very unlikely our results could be explained by unbalanced motivation or expectation.
Impact of MT on attention and emotion
After we established that active control was successful, the first thing to look at was some of our outside-the-scanner behavioral results. As we were interested in the effect of meditation on both attention and meta-cognition, we used an “error-awareness task” (EAT) to examine improvement in these areas. The EAT (shown below) is a typical “go-no/go” task where subjects spend most of their time pressing a button. The difficult part comes whenever a “stop-trial” occurs and subject must quickly halt their response. In the case where the subject fails to stop, they then have the opportunity to “fix” the error by pressing a second button on the trial following the error. If you’ve ever taken this kind of task, you know that it can be frustratingly difficult to stop your finger in time – the response becomes quite habitual. Using the EAT we examined the impact of MT on both controlling responses (a variable called “stop accuracy”), as well as also on meta-cognitive self-monitoring (percent “error-awareness”).
We started by looking for significant group by time interactions on stop accuracy and error-awareness, which indicate that score fluctuation on a measure was statistically greater in the treatment (MT) group than in the control group. In repeated-measures design, this type of interaction is your first indication that the treatment may have had a greater effect than the control group. When we looked at the data, it was immediately clear that while both groups improved over time (a ‘main effect’ of time), there was no interaction to be found:
While it is likely that much of the increase over time can be explained by test-retest effects (i.e. simply taking the test twice), we wanted to see if any of this variance might be explained by something specific to meditation. To do this we entered stop accuracy and error-awareness into a linear model comparing the difference of slope between each group’s practice and the EAT measures. Here we saw that practice predicted stop accuracy improvement only in the meditation group, and that the this relationship was statistically greater than in the reading group:
These results lead us to conclude that while we did not observe a treatment effect of MT on the error-awareness task, the presence of strong time effects and MT-only correlation with practice suggested that the improvements within each group may relate to the “active ingredients” of MT but reflect motivation-driven artifacts in the reading group. Sadly we cannot conclude this firmly- we’d have needed to include a third passive control group for comparison. Thankfully this was pointed out to us by a kind reviewer, who noted that this argument is kind of like having one’s cake and eating it, so we’ll restrict ourselves to arguing that the EAT finding serves as a nice validation of the active control- both groups improved on something, and a potential indicator of a stop-related treatment mechanism.
While the EAT served as a behavioral measure of basic cognitive processes, we also wanted to examine the neural correlates of attention and emotion, to see how they might respond to mindfulness training in our intervention. For this we partnered with Karina Blair at the National Institute of Mental Health to bring the Affective Stroop task (shown below) to Denmark .
The Affective Stroop Task (AST) depends on a basic “number-counting Stroop” to investigate the neural correlates of attention, emotion, and their interaction. To complete the task, your instruction is simply “count the number of numbers in the first display (of numbers), count the number of numbers in the second display, and decide which display had more number of numbers”. As you can see in the trial example above, conflict in the task (trial-type “C”) is driven by incongruence between the Arabic numeral (e.g. “4”) and the numeracy of the display (a display of 5 “4”’s). Meanwhile, each trial has nasty or neutral emotional stimuli selected from the international affective picture system. Using the AST, we were able to examine the neural correlates of executive attention by contrasting task (B + C > A) and emotion (negative > neutral) trials.
Since we were especially interested in changes over time, we expanded on these contrasts to examine increased or decreased neural response between the first and last scans of the study. To do this we relied on two levels of analysis (standard in imaging), where at the “first” or “subject level” we examined differences between the two time points for each condition (task and emotion), within each subject. We then compared these time-related effects (contrast images) between each group using a two-sample t-test with total minutes of practice as a co-variate. To assess the impact of meditation on performing the AST, we examined reaction times in a model with factors group, time, task, and emotion. In this way we were able to examine the impact of MT on neural activity and behavior while controlling for the kinds of artifacts discussed in the previous section.
Our analysis revealed three primary findings. First, the reaction time analysis revealed a significant effect of MT on Stroop conflict, or the difference between reaction time to incongruent versus congruent trials. Further, we did not observe any effect on emotion-related RTs- although both groups sped up significantly to negative trials vs neutral (time effect), this increase was equivalent in both groups. Below you can see the stroop-conflict related RTs:
This became particularly interesting when we examine the neural response to these conditions, and again observed a pattern of overall [BOLD signal] increases in the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex to task performance (below):
Interestingly, we did not observe significant overall increases to emotional stimuli just being in the MT group didn’t seem to be enough to change emotional processing. However, when we examined correlations with amount practice and increased BOLD to negative emotion across the whole brain, we found a striking pattern of fronto-insular BOLD increases to negative images, similar to patterns seen in previous studies of compassion and mindfulness practice:
When we put all this together, a pattern began to emerge. Overall it seemed like MT had a relatively clear impact on attention and cognitive control. Practice-correlated increases on EAT stop accuracy, reduced Affective Stroop conflict, and increases in dorsolateral prefrontal cortex responses to task all point towards plasticity at the level of executive function. In contrast our emotion-related findings suggest that alterations in affective processing occurred only in MT participants with the most practice. Given how little we know about the training trajectories of cognitive vs affective skills, we felt that this was a very interesting result.
Conclusion: the more you do, the what you get?
For us, the first conclusion from all this was that when you control for motivation and a host of other confounds, brief MT appears to primarily train attention-related processes. Secondly, alterations in affective processing seemed to require more practice to emerge. This is interesting both for understanding the neuroscience of training and for the effective application of MT in clinical settings. While a great deal of future research is needed, it is possible that the affective system may be generally more resilient to intervention than attention. It may be the case that altering affective processes depends upon and extends increasing control over executive function. Previous research suggests that attention is largely flexible, amenable to a variety of training regimens of which MT is only one beneficial intervention. However we are also becoming increasingly aware that training attention alone does not seem to directly translate into closely related benefits.
As we begin to realize that many societal and health problems cannot be solved through medication or attention-training alone, it becomes clear that techniques to increase emotional function and well-being are crucial for future development. I am reminded of a quote overheard at the Mind & Life Summer Research Institute and attributed to the Dalai Lama. Supposedly when asked about their goal of developing meditation programs in the west, HHDL replied that, what was truly needed in the West was not “cognitive training, as (those in the west) are already too clever. What is needed rather is emotion training, to cultivate a sense of responsibility and compassion”. When we consider falling rates of empathy in medical practitioners and the link to health outcome, I think we do need to explore the role of emotional and embodied skills in supporting a wide-array of functions in cognition and well-being. While emotional development is likely to depend upon executive function, given all the recent failures to show a transfer from training these domains to even closely related ones, I suspect we need to begin including affective processes in our understanding of optimal learning. If these differences hold, then it may be important to reassess our interventions (mindful and otherwise), developing training programs that are customized in terms of the intensity, duration, and content appropriate for any given context.
Of course, rather than end on such an inspiring note, I should point out that like any study, ours is not without flaws (you’ll have to read the paper to find out how many 😉 ) and is really just an initial step. We made significant progress in replicating common neural and behavioral effects of MT while controlling for important confounds, but in retrospect the study could have been strengthened by including measures that would better distinguish the precise mechanisms, for example a measure of body awareness or empathy. Another element that struck me was how much I wish we’d had a passive control group, which could have helped flesh out how much of our time effect was instrument reliability versus motivation. As far as I am concerned, the study was a success and I am happy to have done my part to push mindfulness research towards methodological clarity and rigor. In the future I know others will continue this trend and investigate exactly what sorts of practice are needed to alter brain and behavior, and just how these benefits are accomplished.
In the near-future, I plan to give mindfulness research a rest. Not that I don’t find it fascinating or worthwhile, but rather because during the course of my PhD I’ve become a bit obsessed with interoception and meta-cognition. At present, it looks like I’ll be spending my first post-doc applying predictive coding and dynamic causal modeling to these processes. With a little luck, I might be able to build a theoretical model that could one day provide novel targets for future intervention!
As I’ve been dreadfully quiet in the weeks leading up to the submission of my first fMRI paper, I thought I’d give my readers a little tidbit teaser of my (hopefully) forthcoming article. We’re within days of submission and I’ve got high hopes for a positive review. Here is the abstract:
Mindfulness meditation is a set of attention-based, regulatory and self-inquiry training regimes. Although the impact of mindfulness meditation training (MT) on self-regulation is well established, the neural mechanisms supporting such plasticity are poorly understood. MT is thought to act on attention through bottom-up salience and top-down control mechanisms, but until now conflicting evidence from behavioral and neural measures has made it difficult to distinguish the role of these mechanisms. To resolve this question we conducted a fully randomized 6-week longitudinal trial of MT, explicitly controlling for cognitive and treatment effects. We measured behavioral metacognition and whole-brain BOLD signals during an affective Stroop task before and after intervention. Although both groups improved significantly on a response-inhibition task, only the MT group showed reduced affective Stroop conflict. Moreover, the MT group showed greater dorsolateral prefrontal cortex (DLPFC) responses during executive processing, indicating increased recruitment of top-down mechanisms to resolve conflict. Individual differences in MT adherence predicted improvements in response-inhibition and increased recruitment of dorsal anterior cingulate cortex (dACC), medial prefrontal cortex (mPFC), and right anterior insula during negative valence processing, suggesting that rigorous mindfulness practice precedes alterations of bottom-up processes.
And a teaser figure:
Things are fantastic, especially since I’ve moved to London. The ICN is a great place for cognitive neuroscience and I’m learning and doing more than I ever have before. While I prepare this paper, I am simultaneously finishing up a longitudinal VBM analysis of the same data, and beginning to script an eventual 60 subject affective-stroop Dynamic Causal Modeling connectivity study. Everyone here is insanely talented and there is hardly a day that goes by when there isn’t some interesting discussion, a fascinating talk, or an exciting collaboration to be had.
disclaimer: these findings have NOT been peer reviewed and as such should not be believed nor reported as science! They’re just pretty pictures for now.