Chapter 19. Language and Hemispheric Asymmetry
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By NATASHA SINGER Joseph J. Atick cased the floor of the Ronald Reagan Building and International Trade Center in Washington as if he owned the place. In a way, he did. He was one of the organizers of the event, a conference and trade show for the biometrics security industry. Perhaps more to the point, a number of the wares on display, like an airport face-scanning checkpoint, could trace their lineage to his work. A physicist, Dr. Atick is one of the pioneer entrepreneurs of modern face recognition. Having helped advance the fundamental face-matching technology in the 1990s, he went into business and promoted the systems to government agencies looking to identify criminals or prevent identity fraud. “We saved lives,” he said during the conference in mid-March. “We have solved crimes.” Thanks in part to his boosterism, the global business of biometrics — using people’s unique physiological characteristics, like their fingerprint ridges and facial features, to learn or confirm their identity — is booming. It generated an estimated $7.2 billion in 2012, according to reports by Frost & Sullivan. Making his rounds at the trade show, Dr. Atick, a short, trim man with an indeterminate Mediterranean accent, warmly greeted industry representatives at their exhibition booths. Once he was safely out of earshot, however, he worried aloud about what he was seeing. What were those companies’ policies for retaining and reusing consumers’ facial data? Could they identify individuals without their explicit consent? Were they running face-matching queries for government agencies on the side? Now an industry consultant, Dr. Atick finds himself in a delicate position. While promoting and profiting from an industry that he helped foster, he also feels compelled to caution against its unfettered proliferation. He isn’t so much concerned about government agencies that use face recognition openly for specific purposes — for example, the many state motor vehicle departments that scan drivers’ faces as a way to prevent license duplications and fraud. Rather, what troubles him is the potential exploitation of face recognition to identify ordinary and unwitting citizens as they go about their lives in public. Online, we are all tracked. But to Dr. Atick, the street remains a haven, and he frets that he may have abetted a technology that could upend the social order. © 2014 The New York Times Company
Link ID: 19630 - Posted: 05.18.2014
|By Sam Kean It is possible to take the idea of left/right differences within the brain too far: it’s not like one side of the brain talks or emotes or recognizes faces all by itself while the other one just sits there twiddling its neurons. But the left and right hemispheres of the human brain do show striking differences in some areas, especially with regard to language, the trait that best defines us as human beings. Scientists suspect that left-right specialization first evolved many millions of years ago, since many other animals show subtle hemispheric differences: they prefer to use one claw or paw to eat, for instance, or they strike at prey more often in one direction than another. Before this time, the left brain and right brain probably monitored sensory data and recorded details about the world to an equal degree. But there’s no good reason for both hemispheres to do the same basic job, not if the corpus callosum—a huge bundle of fibers that connects the left and right brain—can transmit data between them. So the brain eliminated the redundancy, and the left brain took on new tasks. This process accelerated in human beings, and we humans show far greater left/right differences than any other animal. In the course of its evolution the left brain also took on the crucial role of master interpreter. Neuroscientists have long debated whether certain people have two independent minds running in parallel inside their skulls. That sounds spooky, but some evidence suggests yes. For example, there are split-brain patients, who had their corpus callosums surgically severed to help control epilepsy and whose left and right brain cannot communicate as a result. Split-brain patients have little trouble drawing two different geometric figures at the same time, one with each hand. Normal people bomb this test. (Try it, and you’ll see how mind-bendingly hard it is.) Some neuroscientists scoff at these anecdotes, saying the claims for two separate minds are exaggerated. But one thing is certain: two minds or no, split-brain people feel mentally unified; they never feel the two hemispheres fighting for control, or feel their consciousness flipping back and forth. That’s because one hemisphere, usually the left, takes charge. And many neuroscientists argue that the same thing happens in normal brains. One hemisphere probably always dominates the mind, a role that neuroscientist Michael Gazzaniga called the interpreter. (Per George W. Bush, you could also call it “the decider.”) © 2014 Scientific American
Link ID: 19625 - Posted: 05.16.2014
by Nathan Collins There's a new twist in mental health. People with depression seem three times as likely as those without it to have two brain lobes curled around each other. The brains of people with depression can be physically different from other brains – they are often smaller, for example – but exactly why that is so remains unclear. In humans, some studies point to changes in the size of the hippocampi, structures near the back of the brain thought to support memory formation. "There are so many studies that show a smaller hippocampus in almost every psychiatric disorder," says Jerome Maller, a neuroscientist at the Monash Alfred Psychiatry Research Centre in Melbourne, Australia, who led the latest work looking at brain lobes. "But very few can actually show or hypothesize why that is." Maller thinks he has stumbled on an explanation. He had been using a brain stimulation technique known as transcranial magnetic stimulation as a therapy for antidepressant-resistant depression. This involved using fMRI scans to create detailed maps of the brain to determine which parts to stimulate. While pouring over hundreds of those maps, Maller noticed that many of them showed signs of occipital bending. This is where occipital lobes – which are important for vision – at the back of the brain's left and right hemispheres twist around each other. So he and his colleagues scanned 51 people with and 48 without major depressive disorder. They found that about 35 per cent of those with depression and 12.5 per cent of the others showed signs of occipital bending. The difference was even greater in women: 46 per cent of women with depression had occipital bending compared with just 6 per cent of those without depression. © Copyright Reed Business Information Ltd.
by Anil Ananthaswamy Children born with split brains – whereby the two hemispheres of their brains are not connected – can develop new brain wiring that helps to connect the two halves, according to brain scans of people with the condition. Such circuitry is not present in normal brains, and explains how some people with split brains can still maintain normal function. It also suggests that the developing brain is even more adaptable than previously thought. Research into people with split brains goes back to the 1960s, when neuroscientists studied people who had undergone brain surgery to treat particularly severe epilepsy. The surgery involved cutting the corpus callosum, the thick bundle of neuronal fibres that connects the brain's two halves. This disconnection prevented epileptic seizures spreading from one brain hemisphere to the other. The recipients of such split-brain surgery showed a form of disconnection syndrome whereby the two halves of their brains could not exchange information. For instance, if a patient touched an object with their left hand without seeing the object, they would be unable to name it. That is because sensory-motor signals from the left hand are processed in the right hemisphere. To put a name to the object, the tactile information from the hand has to reach the brain's left hemisphere, the seat of language. With the central connection between hemispheres severed, the object's naming information cannot be retrieved. Conversely, if that person were to touch an object with their right hand without seeing it, the sensory-motor signals from that hand would go to the left hemisphere, which hosts the brain's language centres, making naming the object easy. However, children born without a corpus callosum – and therefore whose two brain hemispheres are separated – can often pass such tactile naming tests when they are old enough to take them. Their brain hemispheres are obviously communicating, but it wasn't clear how. © Copyright Reed Business Information Ltd
By Eric Niiler, Scientists studying head injuries have found something surprising: Genes may make some people more susceptible to concussion and trauma than others. A person’s genetic makeup, in fact, may play a more important role in the extent of injury than the number of blows a person sustains. While this research is still in its infancy, these scientists are working toward developing a blood test that may one day help a person decide — based on his her or her genetic predisposition — whether to try out for the football team, or perhaps take up swimming or chess instead. “Until now, all the attention has been paid to how hard and how often you get hit,” said Thomas McAllister, a professor of clinical psychiatry at the Indiana University School of Medicine. “No doubt that’s important. But it’s also becoming clear that’s it’s probably an interaction between the injury and the genetics of the person being injured.” This research is being spurred by fears that some athletes and many returning soldiers may face a lifetime of problems from head injuries. The National Football League agreed to settle a class-action concussion lawsuit by retired players last August for $765 million, although a judge rejected the agreement. In addition, the Pentagon estimates that 294,000 troops, many of whom served in Iraq and Afghanistan, suffered some kind of brain injury since 2000. “More and more we are noticing our servicemen are coming home with significant problems with brain function,” said Daniel Perl, a neuropathologist at the Center for Neuroscience and Regenerative Medicine at the Pentagon’s Uniformed Services University for Health Sciences in Bethesda. “We don’t know much about the biology of this. We need to get down to cellular level of resolution, how the brain starts to repair itself.” © 1996-2014 The Washington Post
By SAM KEAN UNTIL the past few decades, neuroscientists really had only one way to study the human brain: Wait for strokes or some other disaster to strike people, and if the victims pulled through, determine how their minds worked differently afterward. Depending on what part of the brain suffered, strange things might happen. Parents couldn’t recognize their children. Normal people became pathological liars. Some people lost the ability to speak — but could sing just fine. These incidents have become classic case studies, fodder for innumerable textbooks and bull sessions around the lab. The names of these patients — H. M., Tan, Phineas Gage — are deeply woven into the lore of neuroscience. When recounting these cases today, neuroscientists naturally focus on these patients’ deficits, emphasizing the changes that took place in their thinking and behavior. After all, there’s no better way to learn what some structure in the brain does than to see what happens when it shorts out or otherwise gets destroyed. But these case snippets overlook something crucial about people with brain damage. However glaring their deficits are, their brains still work like ours to a large extent. Most can still read and reason. They can still talk, walk and emote. And they still have the same joys and fears — facts that the psychological caricatures passed down from generation to generation generally omit. The famous amnesiac H. M., for instance, underwent radical brain surgery in 1953 and had most of the hippocampus removed on both sides of his brain; afterward, he seemed to lose the ability to form new long-term memories. Names, dates, directions to the bathroom all escaped him now. He’d eat two breakfasts if no one stopped him. Careful testing, however, revealed that H. M. could form new motor memories — memories of things like how to ride a bicycle — because they rely on different structures in the brain. This work established that memory isn’t a single, monolithic thing, but a collection of different faculties. © 2014 The New York Times Company
By Deborah Tuerkheimer Almost a decade into a 20-year prison sentence for murdering a baby in her care, 43-year-old Jennifer Del Prete was ordered freed on bond late last week. The ruling is one of a growing number that reflect skepticism on the part of judges, juries, and even prosecutors about criminal convictions based on the medical diagnosis of shaken baby syndrome. The case is also a critical turning point. The certainty that once surrounded shaken baby syndrome, or SBS, has been dissolving for years. The justice system is beginning to acknowledge this shift but should go further to re-examine and perhaps overturn more past convictions. Doctors once believed that three neurological symptoms—bleeding beneath the outer layer of membranes surrounding the brain (subdural hemorrhaging), bleeding in the retina, and brain swelling—always meant that a baby had been shaken. Because it was accepted that a baby with these three symptoms would show the effect of brain damage immediately, the “triad,” as it became known, was also used to establish the identity of the abuser—the last person with the baby. SBS was, in essence, a medical diagnosis of murder. Beginning in the 1990s, hundreds of cases were prosecuted based on this conception of SBS. The evidence of guilt was strikingly similar from case to case. This includes the Illinois prosecution of Jennifer Del Prete. In 2002, Del Prete was working at a small home day care in a Chicago suburb. One day, when she went to feed the 4-month-old baby in her care, she says she discovered the infant limp. Because the baby had the telltale triad of SBS symptoms, doctors were sure that Del Prete had shaken the baby to death. She denied it, and there were no witnesses. But based on the testimony of medical experts—primarily a pediatrician—she was convicted of murder in the first degree. © 2014 The Slate Group LLC.
by Colin Barras Enough of the cheap jibes: Neanderthals may have been just as clever as modern humans. Anthropologists have already demolished the idea that Neanderthals were dumb brutes, and now a review of the archaeological record suggests they were our equals. Neanderthals were one of the most successful of all hominin species, occupying much of Europe and Asia. Their final demise about 40,000 years ago, shortly after Homo sapiens walked into their territory, is often put down to the superiority of our species. It's time to lay that idea to rest, say Paola Villa at the University of Colorado in Boulder and Wil Roebroeks at Leiden University in the Netherlands. Just as smart as you For instance, there is evidence that Homo sapiens could use fire to chemically transform natural materials into glue 70,000 years ago, but Neanderthals were performing similarly complex chemical syntheses at least 200,000 years ago. And although 70,000-year-old engraved ochre from South Africa is seen as evidence that our species had developed sophisticated symbolism and perhaps even language, similar artefacts have been found at 50,000-year-old Neanderthal sites in Spain. What's more, Neanderthals might have been able to talk. Late last year we learned that our extinct cousins had a hyoid, a small bone in the neck that plays a big role in speech, very like ours. Evidence has even emerged that Homo sapiens may have learned some skills by copying Neanderthals. Yet despite all of this evidence, the idea that Neanderthals were our inferiors still persists. © Copyright Reed Business Information Ltd.
By Gabriella Rosen Kellerman By 1664, the year he published his most famous book of neuroanatomy, Cerebri Anatome, Dr. Thomas Willis was already renowned in Britain for saving lives. Fourteen years earlier, the corpse of executed murderer Anne Green had been delivered to Willis and some of his colleagues for autopsy. Upon opening the coffin—the story goes—the doctors heard a gasp. Ms. Green, they discovered, had been hanged but not executed. Thanks to the resuscitation efforts of Willis and his colleagues, Green survived, and was given a stay of execution. She died fifteen years later. The episode supposedly drew jealousy from Willis’s contemporaries, who could have had no idea just how many lives Willis’s work would one day save. Among the important discoveries included in Cerebri Anatome, considered the founding text of neurology, is the Circle of Willis, a map of the interconnecting arteries at the base of the brain. Such circular connections among arteries are called anastomoses. They enable blood to reach vital tissue along multiple routes so that when one is blocked, the blood has an alternative outlet. The Circle of Willis is perhaps most important because of its implications for stroke. Stroke, which is the third leading cause of death in this country, occurs when blood flow to the brain is disrupted. This can occur when an artery gets blocked with plaque or a clot (called an ischemic stroke) or when at artery bursts (called hemorrhagic stroke). Many of these problems, particularly the latter kind of stroke, occur in the Circle of Willis. © 2014 Scientific American
Link ID: 19564 - Posted: 05.03.2014
Fork-tailed drongos, glossy black African songbirds with ruby-colored eyes, are the avian kingdom’s masters of deception. They mimic the alarm calls of other species to scare animals away and then swipe their dupes’ dinner. But like the boy who cried wolf, drongos can raise the alarm once too often. Now, scientists have discovered that when one false alarm no longer works, the birds switch to another species’ warning cry, a tactic that usually does the trick. “The findings are astounding,” says John Marzluff, a wildlife biologist at the University of Washington, Seattle, who was not involved in the work. “Drongos are exceedingly deceptive; their vocabularies are immense; and they match their deception to both the target animal and [its] past response. This level of sophistication is incredible.” Since 2008, Tom Flower, an evolutionary biologist at the University of Cape Town, has followed drongos in the Kuruman River Reserve in the Kalahari Desert. He’s habituated and banded about 200 of the robin-sized birds, and, using food rewards, has trained individuals to come to him when he calls. After getting its snack, the drongo quickly returns to its natural behavior—catching insects and following other bird species or meerkats—while Flower tags along. Drongos also keep an eye out for raptors and other predators. When they spot one, they utter metallic alarm cries. Meerkats and pied babblers, a highly social bird, pay attention to the drongos and dash for cover when the drongos raise an alarm—just as they do when one of their own calls out a warning. Studies have shown that having drongos around benefits animals of other species, which don’t have to be as vigilant and can spend more time foraging. But there’s a trade-off: The drongos’ cries aren’t always honest. When a meerkat has caught a fat grub or gecko, a drongo is apt to change from trustworthy sentinel to wily deceiver. © 2014 American Association for the Advancement of Science.
Brian Owens If you think you know what you just said, think again. People can be tricked into believing they have just said something they did not, researchers report this week. The dominant model of how speech works is that it is planned in advance — speakers begin with a conscious idea of exactly what they are going to say. But some researchers think that speech is not entirely planned, and that people know what they are saying in part through hearing themselves speak. So cognitive scientist Andreas Lind and his colleagues at Lund University in Sweden wanted to see what would happen if someone said one word, but heard themselves saying another. “If we use auditory feedback to compare what we say with a well-specified intention, then any mismatch should be quickly detected,” he says. “But if the feedback is instead a powerful factor in a dynamic, interpretative process, then the manipulation could go undetected.” In Lind’s experiment, participants took a Stroop test — in which a person is shown, for example, the word ‘red’ printed in blue and is asked to name the colour of the type (in this case, blue). During the test, participants heard their responses through headphones. The responses were recorded so that Lind could occasionally play back the wrong word, giving participants auditory feedback of their own voice saying something different from what they had just said. Lind chose the words ‘grey’ and ‘green’ (grå and grön in Swedish) to switch, as they sound similar but have different meanings. © 2014 Nature Publishing Group
Does reading faster mean reading better? That’s what speed-reading apps claim, promising to boost not just the number of words you read per minute, but also how well you understand a text. There’s just one problem: The same thing that speeds up reading actually gets in the way of comprehension, according to a new study. When you read at your natural pace, your eyes move back and forth across a sentence, rather than plowing straight through to the end. Apps like Spritz or the aptly named Speed Read are built around the idea that these eye movements, called saccades, are a redundant waste of time. It’s more efficient, their designers claim, to present words one at a time in a fixed spot on a screen, discouraging saccades and helping you get through a text more quickly. This method, called rapid serial visual presentation (RSVP), has been controversial since the 1980s, when tests showed it impaired comprehension, though researchers weren’t quite sure why. With a new crop of speed-reading products on the market, psychologists decided to dig a bit more and uncovered a simple explanation for RSVP’s flaw: Every so often, we need to scan backward and reread for a better grasp of the material. Researchers demonstrated that need by presenting 40 college students with ambiguous, unpunctuated sentences ("While the man drank the water that was clear and cold overflowed from the toilet”) while following their subjects’ gaze with an eye-tracking camera. Half the time, the team crossed out words participants had already read, preventing them from rereading (“xxxxx xxx xxx drank the water …”). Following up with basic yes-no questions about each sentence’s content, they found that comprehension dropped by about 25% in trials that blocked rereading versus those that didn’t, the researchers report online this month in Psychological Science. Crucially, the drop was about the same when subjects could, but simply hadn’t, reread parts of a sentence. Nor did the results differ much when using ambiguous sentences or their less confusing counterparts (“While the man slept the water …”). Turns out rereading isn’t a waste of time—it’s essential for understanding. © 2014 American Association for the Advancement of Science.
By Linda Carroll A college education may do a lot more than provide better job opportunities — it may also make brains more resilient to trauma, a new study suggests. The more years of education people have, the more likely they will recover from a traumatic brain injury, according to the study published Wednesday in Neurology. In fact, one year after a traumatic brain injury, people with a college education were nearly four times as likely as those who hadn’t finished high school to return to work or school with no disability. Earlier studies had shown that education might have a protective effect when it comes to degenerative brain diseases like Alzheimer’s. Scientists have theorized that education leads to greater “cognitive reserve,” which allows people to overcome or compensate for brain damage. So if there are two people with the same degree of damage from Alzheimer’s, the more highly educated one will show fewer symptoms. The assumption is that education changes and expands the brain, leaving it better able to cope with challenges. “Added capacity allows us to either work around the damaged areas or to adapt,” said Eric B. Schneider, an assistant professor of surgery at the Johns Hopkins School of Medicine. Schneider and his colleagues suspected that cognitive reserve might play an equally important role in helping people rehab from acute brain damage that results from falls, car crashes and other accidents as it does in Alzheimer’s disease.
I am a sociologist by training. I come from academic world, reading scholarly articles on topics of social import, but they're almost always boring, dry and quickly forgotten. Yet I can't count how many times I've gone to a movie, a theater production or read a novel and been jarred into seeing something differently, learned something new, felt deep emotions and retained the insights gained. I know from both my research and casual conversations with people in daily life that my experiences are echoed by many. The arts can tap into issues that are otherwise out of reach and reach people in meaningful ways. This realization brought me to arts-based research (ABR). Arts-based research is an emergent paradigm whereby researchers across the disciplines adapt the tenets of the creative arts in their social research projects. Arts-based research, a term first coined by Eliot Eisner at Stanford University in the early 90s, is based on the assumption that art can teach us in ways that other forms cannot. Scholars can take interview or survey research, for instance, and represent it through art. I've written two novels based on sociological interview research. Sometimes researchers use the arts during data collection, involving research participants in the art-making process, such as drawing their response to a prompt rather than speaking. The turn by many scholars to arts-based research is most simply explained by my opening example of comparing the experience of consuming jargon-filled and inaccessible academic articles to that of experiencing artistic works. While most people know on some level that the arts can reach and move us in unique ways, there is actually science behind this. ©2014 TheHuffingtonPost.com, Inc
BY Ellen Rolfes Rebecca Kamen’s sculptures appear as delicate as the brain itself. Thin, green branches stretch from a colorful mass of vein-like filaments. The branches, made from pieces of translucent mylar and stained with diluted acrylic paint, are so delicate that they sway slightly when mounted to the wall. Perched on various parts of the sculpture are mylar butterflies, whose wings also move, as if fluttering. One of Kamen's influences is the writing of Santiago Ramon y Cajal, who is called the "father of modern neuroscience." Cajal once said: “Like the entomologist in search of colorful butterflies, my attention has chased in the gardens of the grey matter cells with delicate and elegant shapes, the mysterious butterflies of the soul, whose beating of wings may one day reveal to us the secrets of the mind." One of Kamen’s artistic influences is the writing of Santiago Ramon y Cajal, who is called the “father of modern neuroscience.” The work, called “Butterflies of the Soul” was inspired by neuroscientist Santiago Ramon y Cajal, who won the 1906 Nobel Prize, for his groundbreaking work on the human nervous system. Kamen’s sculpture is a nod to his work and the development of modern neuroscience. Cajal’s observation of the cells under the microscope radically changed how scientists study the brain and its functions, Kamen said. And the butterflies in her sculpture represent Cajal’s drawings of Purkinje cells, which are found in the cerebellar cortex at the base of the brain. Purkinje cells play an important role in motor control and in certain cognitive functions, such as attention and language. And attention and language are skills of great interest to Kamen, who has dyslexia. Her fascination with the brain and its structure deepened when she discovered that she was dyslexic later in life. © 1996 - 2014 MacNeil / Lehrer Productions.
Link ID: 19503 - Posted: 04.17.2014
By KATHERINE BOUTON Like almost all newborns in this country, Alex Justh was given a hearing test at birth. He failed, but his parents were told not to worry: He was a month premature and there was mucus in his ears. A month later, an otoacoustic emission test, which measures the response of hair cells in the inner ear, came back normal. Alex was the third son of Lydia Denworth and Mark Justh (pronounced Just), and at first they “reveled at what a sweet and peaceful baby he was,” Ms. Denworth writes in her new book, “I Can Hear You Whisper: An Intimate Journey Through the Science of Sound and Language,” being published this week by Dutton. But Alex began missing developmental milestones. He was slow to sit up, slow to stand, slow to walk. His mother felt a “vague uneasiness” at every delay. He seemed not to respond to questions, the kind one asks a baby: “Can you show me the cow?” she’d ask, reading “Goodnight, Moon.” Nothing. No response. At 18 months Alex unequivocally failed a hearing test, but there was still fluid in his ears, so the doctor recommended a second test. It wasn’t until 2005, when Alex was 2 ½, that they finally realized he had moderate to profound hearing loss in both ears. This is very late to detect deafness in a child; the ideal time is before the first birthday. Alex’s parents took him to Dr. Simon Parisier, an otolaryngologist at New York Eye and Ear Infirmary, who recommended a cochlear implant as soon as possible. “Age 3 marked a critical juncture in the development of language,” Ms. Denworth writes. “I began to truly understand that we were not just talking about Alex’s ears. We were talking about his brain.” © 2014 The New York Times Company
By Daisy Yuhas Greetings from Boston where the 21st annual meeting of the Cognitive Neuroscience Society is underway. Saturday and Sunday were packed with symposia, lectures and more than 400 posters. Here are just a few of the highlights. The bilingual brain has been a hot topic at the meeting this year, particularly as researchers grapple with the benefits and challenges of language learning. In news that will make many college language majors happy, a group of researchers led by Harriet Wood Bowden of the University of Tennessee-Knoxville have demonstrated that years of language study alter a person’s brain processing to be more like a native speaker’s brain. They found that native English speaking students with about seven semesters of study in Spanish show very similar brain activation to native speakers when processing spoken Spanish grammar. The study used electroencephalography, or EEG, in which electrodes are placed along the scalp to pick up and measure the electrical activity of neurons in the brain below. By contrast, students who have more recently begun studying Spanish show markedly different processing of these elements of the language. The study focused on the recognition of noun-adjective agreement, particularly in gender and number. Accents, however, can remain harder to master. Columbia University researchers worked with native Spanish speakers to study the difficulties encountered in hearing and reproducing English vowel sounds that are not used in Spanish. The research focused on the distinction between the extended o sound in “dock” and the soft u sound in “duck,” which is not part of spoken Spanish. The scientists used electroencephalograms to measure the brain responses to these vowel sounds in native-English and native-Spanish speakers. © 2014 Scientific American
Link ID: 19467 - Posted: 04.10.2014
By Deborah Serani Sometimes I work with children and adults who can’t put words to their feelings and thoughts. It’s not that they don’t want to – it’s more that they don’t know how. The clinical term for this experience is alexithymia and is defined as the inability to recognize emotions and their subtleties and textures . Alexithymia throws a monkey wrench into a person’s ability to know their own self-experience or understand the intricacies of what others feel and think. Here are a few examples those with alexithymia experience: Difficulty identifying different types of feelings Limited understanding of what causes feelings Difficulty expressing feelings Difficulty recognizing facial cues in others Limited or rigid imagination Constricted style of thinking Hypersensitive to physical sensations Detached or tentative connection to others Alexithymia was first mentioned as a psychological construct in 1976 and was viewed as a deficit in emotional awareness . Research suggests that approximately 8% of males and 2% of females experience alexithymia, and that it can come in mild, moderate and severe intensities . Studies also show that alexithymia has two dimensions – a cognitive dimension, where a child or adult struggles to identify, interpret and verbalize feelings (the “thinking” part of our emotional experience). And an affective dimension, where difficulties arise in reacting, expressing, feeling and imagining (the “experiencing” part of our emotional experience) . © 2014 Scientific American
by Bob Holmes People instinctively organise a new language according to a logical hierarchy, not simply by learning which words go together, as computer translation programs do. The finding may add further support to the notion that humans possess a "universal grammar", or innate capacity for language. The existence of a universal grammar has been in hot dispute among linguists ever since Noam Chomsky first proposed the idea half a century ago. If the theory is correct, this innate structure should leave some trace in the way people learn languages. To test the idea, Jennifer Culbertson, a linguist at George Mason University in Fairfax, Virginia, and her colleague David Adger of Queen Mary University of London, constructed an artificial "nanolanguage". They presented English-speaking volunteers with two-word phrases, such as "shoes blue" and "shoes two", which were supposed to belong to a new language somewhat like English. They then asked the volunteers to choose whether "shoes two blue" or "shoes blue two" would be the correct three-word phrase. In making this choice, the volunteers – who hadn't been exposed to any three-word phrases – would reveal their innate bias in language-learning. Would they rely on familiarity ("two" usually precedes "blue" in English), or would they follow a semantic hierarchy and put "blue" next to "shoe" (because it modifies the noun more tightly than "two", which merely counts how many)? © Copyright Reed Business Information Ltd.
by Hal Hodson Software has performed the first real-time translation of a dolphin whistle – and better data tools are giving fresh insights into primate communication too IT was late August 2013 and Denise Herzing was swimming in the Caribbean. The dolphin pod she had been tracking for the past 25 years was playing around her boat. Suddenly, she heard one of them say, "Sargassum". "I was like whoa! We have a match. I was stunned," says Herzing, who is the director of the Wild Dolphin Project. She was wearing a prototype dolphin translator called Cetacean Hearing and Telemetry (CHAT) and it had just translated a live dolphin whistle for the first time. It detected a whistle for sargassum, or seaweed, which she and her team had invented to use when playing with the dolphin pod. They hoped the dolphins would adopt the whistles, which are easy to distinguish from their own natural whistles – and they were not disappointed. When the computer picked up the sargassum whistle, Herzing heard her own recorded voice saying the word into her ear. As well as boosting our understanding of animal behaviour, the moment hints at the potential for using algorithms to analyse any activity where information is transmitted – including our daily activities (see "Scripts for life"). "It sounds like a fabulous observation, one you almost have to resist speculating on. It's provocative," says Michael Coen, a biostatistician at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. © Copyright Reed Business Information Ltd.