Perspectives: Reinventing human identity
14 May 2008
From New Scientist Print Edition. Subscribe and get 4 free issues.
Susan Greenfield

http://www.newscientist.com/channel/opinion/mg19826562.300-perspectives-reinventing...
I AM not normally a pessimist, but when it comes to what may happen to human identity I declare myself to be a little worried.

My concerns stem from two givens: the malleability of the human brain, and the conspicuously pervasive and invasive quality of
21st-century technology. First, the human brain. As a species, we do not run particularly fast, are not particularly strong, nor do
we have brilliant eyesight. Our forte is our ability to learn and to adapt to the widest possible range of niches. Neuroscientists
have been familiar with the "plasticity" of the mammalian brain for years, and now scanning technology shows just how sensitive it
is to outside influences.

Remember the study of London's licensed taxi drivers, who are required to remember all the configurations and one-way systems of the
streets of the metropolis and who, as a consequence, can take you wherever you want to go without referring to a map. When their
brains were scanned, this huge burden on working memory turned out to be reflected in the enlargement of the part of the hippocampus
which stores information about spatial navigation.

Back in the lab, investigating the brains of rats and mice, the power of the environment becomes clearer still. Interaction in an
"enriched" environment - which for rodents is merely a collection of wheels, ladders, toilet rolls and the like - appears to
encourage proliferation of the branches, or dendrites, extending from each brain cell. It's not hard to see why this should be
advantageous. The more connections a neuron can make with other cells, the better equipped it is to cope with the tens of thousands
of inputs that converge on it.

The ability of our brains to make a connection, to see one thing in terms of another, lifts us from the booming, buzzing confusion
of a purely sensory world into one with a personalised cognitive context. In infancy, the fleshy blob with its colours, shapes and
sounds gradually becomes distinct from other faces. If this face of, say, your mother, features in your daily life, then, as with
the cabbies, specific connections will form that are unique to you and your experience. It is these connections that unravel in
dementia, returning the person to the abstract world of sensations, a world of less and less cognitive, personalised meaning.

I suggest that the mind, far from being some abstract and exotic alternative to the squalor of the physical brain, is the
personalisation of the brain, a set of neuronal connections peculiar to each individual, driven in turn by that person's particular
experience and interaction with the outside world. Now add to that the influence of technology. Might the outside world be changing
in ways that could be problematic for identity?

Biotechnology, promising as it does the prospect of longer, healthier lives, also brings the controversial possibility of extending
reproductive potential - maybe even to everyone. Another still more controversial issue is where we draw the line between health and
cosmetic whim and, indeed, whether we would prefer a society in which no one was bald or fat. The point here is simply that the
traditional milestones of life that affect our health, appearance and reproductive status are becoming increasingly blurred. Will
future generations face a more homogenous, less "personal" adulthood, one devoid of the narrative previously mandated by biology?

On another level, nanotechnology has the potential to breach the previously unassailable firewall between the brain and body, and
the outside world. Smart devices in toothbrushes, clothes or spectacles may provide us with early warnings of impending health
problems. More invasively, brain implants are already helping quadriplegics to activate robotic arms using "mere" thought. Though
few would volunteer for such surgery, we are becoming used to the idea of ever more intimate interaction between the body and the
world.

While these invasive biotechnologies and nanotechnologies are challenging our most basic concepts of what we are, information
technology is already all-pervading. According to one estimate, western children spend some 6 hours a day at a computer screen.
Given the plasticity of the human brain, shouldn't we ask how living effectively in two dimensions might leave its mark on neuronal
connectivity? For example, it may be more than mere coincidence that prescriptions of methylphenidate (Ritalin) for attention
deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) have trebled over the past decade. Would continued interaction with a fast-paced,
sensory-laden, multimedia environment predispose a brain to shorter attention spans?

The strongly visual, literal world of the screen might also affect our ability to develop the imagination and form the kind of
abstract concepts that have until now come from first hearing stories, then reading oneself. Will future generations prefer the
here-and-now, opting for a strongly sensory experience over a more personalised cognitive narrative? When you play a computer game
to rescue the princess, it is the experience that counts: you don't care about the feelings or thoughts of the heroine. When you
read a book, the princess's welfare and fate is the whole point.

The bottom line is whether here-and-now, fast-paced sensory experiences might change the way future generations see themselves and
construct their identity. Given the malleability of our neuronal circuits, their exquisite sensitivity to activity, might we elect
to remain in a more infantile world of passive reactivity to sensations? Could we even end up living in a world where there is no
personal narrative at all, no meaning, no context, just the experience of the thrill of the moment?

“We could end up living in a world with only the thrill of the moment”Humans have always been hedonistic. Much of what we enjoy,
from sex and drugs to fine food and wine, involves an abrogation of a sense of self. We "blow" our minds, "let ourselves go": we are
back in the booming, buzzing confusion of the moment, our identity suspended. In ID: The quest for identity in the 21st century, I
call this state the "Nobody" scenario, and theorise that the newer technologies may predispose future generations to seek just this
sort of condition. The Nobody scenario has always been an alternative to the "Someone" identity that prospers under liberal western
consumerism, or the "Anyone" persona of the collective identity in fundamentalist or communist cultures. Twenty-first-century
technology is giving us, for the first time and en masse, more time each day and the chance to live to an active old age, and this
brings with it greater options for creating or experiencing a dystopia or a utopia than at any previous time.

Taken alone, none of the three scenarios - Nobody, Someone or Anyone - is likely to prove satisfactory. I suggest that there is a
fourth, the "Eureka" scenario, where the experience of creativity enables you to feel both fulfilled and to have a sense of
individual identity. But even then, and given that we neuroscientists are still grappling with the mysteries of creativity, some
might object that the Eureka scenario could make for a dysfunctional society of egocentric, eccentric individuals.

Perhaps one answer would be to promote a mixed portfolio in which future generations flip from "let yourself go" (Nobody), to
selfless, collective working (Anyone), to an occasional sense of personalised achievement (Someone), based not on superiority of
status or possessions but on that internal glow that comes with insight and creativity (Eureka). Now that might even be fun.

From issue 2656 of New Scientist magazine, 14 May 2008, page 48-49
Profile
Neurophysiologist Susan Greenfield is professor of synaptic pharmacology at the University of Oxford and director of the Royal
Institution in London. She sits as a cross-bencher (independent) in the House of Lords. Her books include: The Private Life of the
Brain and The Human Brain: A guided tour