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By Elie Dolgin Jeff Carroll was in his mid-twenties, fresh out of the U.S. Army, when a genetic test confirmed his worst fear: He was going to develop Huntington’s disease. He had watched his mother’s illness for years; the tremors first, small enough to explain away, then the involuntary movements that looked almost like dancing. The test revealed that the same mutation that caused her disease lived in him: a stretch of three DNA letters in a gene called HTT, repeated over and over again dozens of times. Carroll himself was not sick yet. He would not get sick for many years. But the countdown had begun. In fact, it had likely been running all his life, deep inside vulnerable neurons in his brain. There, the mutant HTT gene was slowly growing longer, its internal repeats piling up toward a threshold that, once crossed, would tip the cell into disarray. The first outward signs of Huntington’s often begin with mood changes and subtle cognitive effects. The hallmark jerky movements come later. Eventually, and relentlessly, patients lose the ability to speak, swallow or move. Most people die within a decade or two of symptom onset. Huntington’s disease is rare, affecting roughly 1 in 20,000 people worldwide. Yet because each child of an affected parent has a 50 percent chance of inheriting the mutation, the disease can haunt families for generations. It had already claimed Carroll’s grandmother and would take his mother at age 54. Without a therapy capable of altering its course, Carroll — along with three of his five siblings who also inherited the mutation — seemed fated to follow his ancestors into an early grave. Carroll decided the only rational response was to become one of the scientists seeking ways to beat the disease. He was midway through his undergraduate studies when he learned, in 2003, that he carried the mutation. He pressed on, earning a Ph.D. and completing postdoctoral training before establishing his own research group devoted to understanding and slowing the disease stalking him from within. © Society for Science & the Public 2000–2026.
Keyword: Huntingtons
Link ID: 30332 - Posted: 07.18.2026
Ian Sample Science editor A man who was paralysed from the chest down in a swimming accident six years ago has been able to feed himself and drink from a cup thanks to a brain implant that bypasses his spinal cord injury. Keith Thomas of Massapequa, New York, could not lift his arms off his wheelchair when he agreed to trial the technology in 2021, but after surgery to implant electrodes in his brain and many months of training, he was able to move the limbs again. Researchers fitted Thomas with a brain-computer interface that not only helped him move his arms and hands, but also sent signals back to his brain to recreate the sensation of touch. He has since been able to feel his sister’s hand and the fur on his pet dog. Remarkably, the technology appears to have partly rewired Thomas’s nervous system, helping to restore some hand functions and sensations that remain even when the system is switched off. “For me this is an incredible moment,” said Prof Chad Bouton, whose team developed the technology at the Feinstein Institutes for Medical Research, the research arm of the New York healthcare provider Northwell Health. “For years, we have been wanting to really tackle the restoration of movement and the sense of touch and bring those together and we’ve also wanted to create lasting effects,” Bouton added. “I think we’re going to continue to see progress and I think it’ll be applicable to the millions of folks around the world who really need this technology.” Thomas was 42 when he broke his neck diving into a swimming pool in July 2020. He blacked out and regained consciousness to see a helicopter on the front lawn. He was immediately taken to hospital. “The next day I couldn’t even move,” he said. The following October, he joined a three-year clinical trial of what the researchers called a “double neural bypass”. It uses electrodes implanted into Thomas’s brain to detect when he wants to move his arms. The signals are then routed to his arms and hands to move them. © 2026 Guardian News & Media Limited
Keyword: Robotics
Link ID: 30331 - Posted: 07.18.2026
By Rachel Nuwer It was 9 a.m. on a Thursday, and Martin Picard was watching his blood flow from an IV in his arm through a hole in the wall. He was sitting on a twin bed in a claustrophobic chamber less than a shoulder’s width from a stainless steel sink and porcelain toilet. Every hour over 24 hours, including while he slept, a nurse channeled blood from his arm to a research team next door; at each time point, if he was awake, he also provided a saliva sample and filled out a survey about his mood. The room looked like a cell, or perhaps a very cramped hotel room, but in fact it was a metabolic research chamber, one of only 50 of its kind in the world. Its conspicuously small size prevented Picard from burning extra energy beyond the bare minimum needed to keep him alive. Napping during the day was prohibited, as was eating anything but the strictly scheduled meals tailored to his caloric needs. Bedtime was at 11 p.m. sharp. Before lights-out, Picard put on a device to monitor his vitals and brain activity while he slept. Though there wasn’t much to do — mostly he sat in bed reading or working on his laptop — excitement was the primary emotion Picard felt that day in July 2021. That’s because he was the first volunteer in an experiment run by the Mitochondrial Psychobiology Lab (opens a new tab), which he directs at Columbia University Irving Medical Center in New York. By studying how much energy is required to sustain baseline existence, his lab aims to explore what he considers an overlooked factor in health and disease, from the level of molecules all the way up to the mind: mitochondria. Most middle school students learn that mitochondria are the powerhouses of the cell. These organelles make adenosine triphosphate (ATP), the energy currency of life, through a cascade of chemical reactions that breaks down glucose and fat from food. But mitochondria are much more than energy factories. Studies over the past decade have shown that they process all sorts of molecules, including neurotransmitters, hormones, and metabolites, which means they directly impact what we experience as mood, stress, sexual arousal, and the need to sleep. This makes them “the consilience point for many known processes demonstrated to underlie consciousness,” Picard said. © 2026 Simons Foundation
Keyword: Consciousness; Evolution
Link ID: 30330 - Posted: 07.18.2026
By Jennie Erin Smith Alzheimer’s disease has long been seen as a tale of two proteins: beta amyloid, which forms sticky plaques in the brain, and tau, which in its diseased state creates tangles inside neurons. Antibodies that clear beta amyloid have been approved to treat Alzheimer’s, but it was tau that made headlines this week, as researchers presented key new details about a drug that reduced production of the protein and slowed cognitive decline in a recent clinical trial. At the Alzheimer’s Association International Conference, neurologist Catherine Mummery of University College London presented results from a phase 2 trial testing diranersen, a drug developed by Biogen to lower the body’s production of tau, in more than 400 patients with early-stage Alzheimer’s. On the study’s main measure of cognition, participants getting diranersen saw as much as a 26% slowing of decline—about on par with the effect seen in earlier trials of approved antiamyloid drugs. (Biogen had announced in May the drug slowed cognitive decline but did not say by how much.) Although the presentation sparked enthusiasm from Alzheimer’s researchers, it also drew attention to puzzling aspects of the trial results. A potentially worrisome side effect emerged at high doses, and contrary to expectations, patients taking the lowest of three possible doses saw the greatest benefit. For these reasons, the findings represent “a double, not a home run,” says neurologist Adam Boxer of the University of California San Francisco, who this month launched a clinical trials platform to try different antitau therapies in Alzheimer’s. Diranersen belongs to a class of drugs known as antisense oligonucleotides, strands of RNA that dampen activity of specific genes. It interrupts production of tau by binding to the messenger RNA that encodes instructions for producing the protein, and must be injected directly into the cerebrospinal fluid to reach the brain. After 18 months, participants in all three dose groups had between one-third and one-half as much tau in their cerebrospinal fluid as when they started the trial, whereas levels increased slightly among people receiving placebo. Imaging done on a subgroup of participants showed the drug also reduced tau tangles in the brain. © 2026 American Association for the Advancement of Science.
Keyword: Alzheimers
Link ID: 30329 - Posted: 07.18.2026
Laura Russo A surprisingly large number and diversity of bee species – 74 out of 96 tested – have magnetic properties, according to research my colleagues and I recently published in the journal Science Advances. Some animals are able to use iron-based magnetic compounds such as magnetite to detect and navigate via the Earth’s magnetic field – a sense called magnetoreception. We considered magnetism in the insects we tested to be a proxy for which species might be magnetoreceptive. For decades, biologists have known that social, cavity-nesting honeybees exhibit magnetoreception. Most researchers assumed that this internal compass was tied to living in a colony; honeybees communicate the location of floral resources to other colony members through a dance that indicates direction relative to the position of the Sun and the geomagnetic field. Our study had two goals: to compare magnetism between bee species that live in groups versus on their own, and to track down the evolutionary origin of magnetoreception in bees. To test magnetic responses, we collected bee specimens from across the bee family Apidae, which includes social species such as honeybees along with solitary species such as chimney bees. We ground dried dead bees into a powder, then measured how magnetic this powder was in a magnetometer. To our surprise, we found that the magnetic response was strong in both bees that live in groups and those that live alone. This result forced us to reject our initial hypothesis that magnetism was necessary only for social bee species. - © 2010–2026, The Conversation US, Inc.
Keyword: Animal Migration
Link ID: 30328 - Posted: 07.18.2026
By Alissa de Chassey A hallmark of deep sleep—slow-wave brain activity that arises when cortical neurons cycle on and off synchronously between 0.5 and 4 Hertz—may drive some of sleep’s restorative functions, according to a new study published last month in Nature Neuroscience. “We provided direct evidence that these on and off patterns are what really matter,” says study investigator Chiara Cirelli, professor of psychiatry at the University of Wisconsin School of Medicine. As slow waves travel across the cortex during deep sleep, the excitatory synaptic strength that accrued during waking hours gradually returns to a baseline, a process that helps to consolidate memories, according to the synaptic homeostasis hypothesis of sleep that Cirelli and her husband, neuroscientist Giulio Tononi, proposed more than two decades ago. Computational models and studies of anesthetized animals support the idea, but the field has lacked evidence from non-anesthetized animals. “Anesthesia and sleep may share some features, but definitely overall they are not the same thing,” Cirelli says. She and her colleagues used optogenetics to induce sleep-like on/off firing patterns in select regions of the cortex in awake mice. “The idea was to induce these patterns in awake mice, and see whether this is enough to get sleep benefits,” Cirelli says. As expected, the animals showed a decreased need for sleep; reduced neuronal synchrony and synaptic strength during sleep; and improved memory consolidation afterward. © 2026 Simons Foundation
Keyword: Sleep
Link ID: 30327 - Posted: 07.18.2026
By Natalie Wolchover When I was first learning to write, my letters and words ran from right to left, reversed as if in a mirror. Being left-handed, I was imitating the hand strokes of my right-handed teachers instead of reversing their strokes to replicate the letters. I gradually got the hang of writing in the correct direction, but it still feels natural for me to mirror-write. I have a mirror-written childhood diary. Leonardo da Vinci, another lefty, did that too. Being left-handed is mostly no big deal. It is annoying how ink smudges under my hand. And I did once have to jump out of the way of a circular saw that I was holding backward; indeed, left-handers have more accidents while operating machinery. That aside, overall, I enjoy being left-handed. It grants entry into a smug little club, whose members — 10% of the human population — carry the secret knowledge that we are overrepresented among U.S. presidents, famous artists and musicians, and top athletes. But our difference hasn’t always been welcome. My 91-year-old Texan grandmother remembers starting out left-handed (she, too, has examples of mirror-writing from early childhood) before being forced to switch, a common practice in much of the world until about the 1970s. The deep-seated disdain for left hands runs through our very language. “Left” comes from Old English lyft, meaning weak, foolish, worthless, or useless, while “right” means correct or proper. In other languages, the word for “left” can also mean awkward, unlucky, clumsy, suspicious, or sinister. In philosophy, “qualia” refers to the subjective qualities of our experience: what it’s like for Alice to see blue or for Bob to feel delighted. Qualia are “the ways things seem to us,” as the late philosopher Daniel Dennett put it. In these essays, our columnists follow their curiosity, and explore important but not necessarily answerable scientific questions. © 2026 Simons Foundation
Keyword: Laterality; Language
Link ID: 30326 - Posted: 07.15.2026
By Laura Sanders Babies are born with a natural preference for using their left or right side. Now, a new study suggests that preference alone doesn’t explain the dominant side’s superior skills: They come from practice. The results, published June 30 in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, show how flexible human brains can be when learning new motor skills. A deeper understanding of how the brain generates movements could help illuminate what happens when that process goes awry, such as after a stroke. Even before birth, babies tend to move one hand more than the other, an early sign of whether a person will be left- or right-handed. This preference probably comes from a mix of genetics and quirks of brain development. But this origin story isn’t what interested researchers. Instead, they wondered why a person’s dominant side — left or right — is more talented. It could be that one half of the brain is just better at controlling movement. Or, as neurologist and neuroscientist Ahmet Arac now suspects, it could all come down to practice. To tease these two ideas apart, Arac and his colleagues had 11 people write the letter A and the number 8 with either their dominant or nondominant hand. The results were exactly what you’d expect; dominant hands wrote the figures better. Then, Arac, of the David Geffen School of Medicine at UCLA, and his colleagues threw these folks a curveball by asking them to write with a pen taped to an elbow. Half the people wrote with their dominant elbow, and the other half wrote with their nondominant elbow. Neither elbow — dominant or nondominant — was very good. © Society for Science & the Public 2000–2026.
Keyword: Laterality; Learning & Memory
Link ID: 30325 - Posted: 07.15.2026
By Jake Currie Humans are social animals, so seeing a fellow human face triggers a cascade of activity in our brains. Information about the age, gender, familiarity, emotional state, and more get processed within milliseconds. Now, new research published in the journal Developmental Cognitive Neuroscience suggests how our brains respond to faces in our youth could impact our social lives later on. “Faces contain a lot of social information, and perceptually or cognitively humans process that information really, really quickly,” study author Myles N. Arrington said in a statement. “That makes it great for neuroscience, because as soon as you show a face to a person it doesn’t take long for their brain to respond.” Arrington and his fellow neuroscientists at the University of California, Davis studied brain activity of almost 6,000 children between the ages of 8 and 11 from the Adolescent Brain Cognitive Development Study. The kids were shown pictures of faces displaying positive, negative, and neutral emotions (which contain loads of social information) and places (which contain none) while their brain activity was monitored on an fMRI machine. Combining the fMRI results with two-year follow-ups, they found that increased activity in the amygdala—the brain’s fight-or-flight center—in response to faces was correlated with changes in their social lives. Interestingly, boys and girls with heightened amygdala activity had much different results later in life. Girls with more active amygdalas tended to have more involvement with peers two years down the road, while boys showed less involvement. According to the researchers, this could be due to differences in how the two genders are socialized. For example, “boys may be socialized to withhold intimacy and distance themselves from their peers,” the team wrote. It’s possible that this socialization can impact how their developing young minds process the social information contained in faces. © Copyright 2026
Keyword: Emotions; Sexual Behavior
Link ID: 30324 - Posted: 07.15.2026
By RJ Mackenzie LONDON — An experimental drug can sweep tangles of tau from the brain, raising hopes that the treatment could help Alzheimer’s disease patients, according to clinical trial data released July 14. The compound, called diranersen and developed by pharma giant Biogen, reduced tau levels in patients’ cerebrospinal fluid by between 50 and 65 percent as compared with the start of the trial. The drug also seemed to slightly slow people people’s cognitive decline compared with those given a placebo. But it’s unclear whether a change of this size will help patients. And the results raised a puzzling conundrum: Contrary to expectations, the patients who had the biggest reductions in their levels of tau didn’t benefit the most in cognitive testing. “This story has been almost a decade in the telling,” said neurologist Catherine Mummery, who presented data on the drug to a packed conference room at the Alzheimer’s Association International Conference. Mummery, head of novel therapeutics at the University College London Dementia Research Center, began the first diranersen trial in October 2017. The results are a “significant step forward,” says molecular neuroscientist Heather Snyder of the Chicago-based Alzheimer’s Association. Over seven million people ages 65 and older in the United States have Alzheimer’s, and treatments to slow its progression, much less cure it, have been hard to come by. Diranersen is what’s called an antisense oligonucleotide — a synthetic chunk of DNA that silences genes. It binds to the MAPT gene, which produces tau, a protein that’s been implicated in Alzheimer’s disease. In the condition, tau goes haywire, forming into tangles which damage nerve cells. © Society for Science & the Public 2000–2026.
Keyword: Alzheimers
Link ID: 30323 - Posted: 07.15.2026
By Dana G. Smith In theory, taking an omega-3, or fish oil, supplement makes a lot of sense. Omega-3 fatty acids are vital for brain health: They are used to build brain cells, keeping the cell walls flexible and enabling the neurons to sprout new connections and communicate with other cells. Numerous studies have shown that people with higher levels of omega-3s in their blood have better cognition and healthier looking brains, as well as a lower risk of developing dementia. In contrast, people with Alzheimer’s disease have been shown to have lower omega-3 levels. But there’s a catch: The vast majority of clinical trials have found that taking omega-3 supplements offers virtually no benefit for cognition or dementia symptoms. “It kind of intuitively makes sense” that neurons need fatty acids for their health, so you should take a fatty acid supplement, said Dr. Kristine Yaffe, a professor of psychiatry, neurology and epidemiology at the University of California, San Francisco. “The problem is that most of the evidence, particularly the trial evidence, just doesn’t support it at all,” she said. A study published last month offers a prime example. The scientists who ran the clinical trial tried to cover all their bases: The participants were older adults who didn’t eat a lot of fish (which is rich in omega-3s), suggesting they might benefit the most from a supplement. Roughly half of the participants had an increased genetic risk for Alzheimer’s, which is another group that experts think might need more omega-3s. The researchers even did lumbar punctures on some of the participants to confirm that the supplement caused omega-3 levels in the brain to go up. But compared with a placebo, the supplement didn’t result in any benefit when it came to people’s cognition or brain structure. So what’s behind the disconnect? Scientists have a few hypotheses, and most are connected to diet and lifestyle. © 2026 The New York Times Company
Keyword: Development of the Brain; Alzheimers
Link ID: 30322 - Posted: 07.15.2026
Helen Pearson Sometimes, Kristine Yaffe will hear a poignant question from someone at her memory clinic. “I walk five miles a day, don’t drink and play bridge,” they’ll say, “so why do I have Alzheimer’s disease? Yaffe, a neurologist and dementia specialist at the University of California, San Francisco, finds it difficult to explain that even if someone does everything they can to lower the risk of dementia, there’s no guarantee they’ll avoid the condition. Her struggles mirror a challenge in her field. Studies have identified a list of virtuous lifestyle choices associated with a reduced dementia risk, including a healthy diet, physical exercise and social and cognitive stimulation. Research has also pointed to some less obvious factors linked to lower risk, such as treating vision and hearing loss and, potentially, receiving a shingles vaccine. The trouble is that it’s hard to work out how much doing any — or all — of these things helps to reduce risk in the real world. That’s not for lack of trying. A growing number of ambitious clinical trials have tested the effects of lifestyle interventions, providing people with intensive help to improve their diet, exercise regime, social connections and heart and brain health. These include the FINGER trial1, which involved some 2,650 participants testing a two-year lifestyle overhaul in Finland, and the multimillion-dollar POINTER study2, which tested a similar approach in the United States. These and other studies have suggested that lifestyle programmes can boost cognitive performance. But these intensive interventions seem to help only slightly — a benefit equivalent to a modest boost on some memory tests. None has been shown to reduce the incidence of dementia, and critics argue that such programmes are costly and difficult to scale up. Other trials, including offshoots of the FINGER study in the Netherlands and in 12 Latin American countries, will announce their results this month, and the World Health Organization will release its new dementia risk-reduction guidelines on 16 July. Deciphering the most effective ways to cut risks is important for researchers, clinicians and the public alike — especially given that the number of people with dementia worldwide is expected to soar in decades to come. © 2026 Springer Nature Limited
Keyword: Alzheimers
Link ID: 30321 - Posted: 07.11.2026
by Avery Hurt In 1950, researchers Hector Chevigny and Sydell Braverman set out to, as they put it, “demolish old fables about the emotional life of the blind” and demonstrate that the mental health issues of the blind are no different from those experienced by the sighted. But they did discover one big — and very surprising — difference: There have been no reported cases of schizophrenia in people blind from birth (or who became blind very shortly after birth). At the time, there was limited patient data available, so it wasn’t clear if this astonishing finding would hold up. But in the almost 80 years since, more national databases of mental illness have been maintained, and still no cases have been found, according to a study in Frontiers in Psychology. Is it just a coincidence? Or does never having been able to see somehow offer protection from schizophrenia? And if it does, how would that even work? Schizophrenia is a neurodevelopmental disorder that interferes with the way people interpret reality, Philip Corlett, a neuroscientist at Yale University who studies psychosis and delusional thinking, told Discover. Schizophrenia can cause symptoms such as hallucinations, disorganized speech and thinking, and in some cases, a lack of motivation or engagement with the world. However, the most familiar characteristic of the illness is what Corlett described as “departures from consensus reality,” or, put another way, believing things that most people in your culture don’t believe. Though the causes and mechanisms of schizophrenia are not yet well understood, one increasingly accepted theory is that the illness results from errors in prediction. To understand that, we need to take a look at how the healthy brain processes information. © 2026 Discover Magazine Inc
Keyword: Schizophrenia; Attention
Link ID: 30320 - Posted: 07.11.2026
Stephanie Dorais You slide your hand into your coat pocket and find an old, folded $100 bill. In the other pocket, you find a coin. Now, here’s the gamble: flip the coin. Heads, you win another $300. Tails, you hand over your $100 bill. Do you take the risk? Mathematically, you should. One coin flip gives you two equally likely futures: in one, heads, you gain $300; in the other, tails, you lose $100. Because each future has a 50 per cent chance of happening, you count half of each outcome: half of $300 is $150, and half of $100 is $50. Balance those against each other, and taking the gamble puts you $100 ahead on average. Decision scientists call this positive expected value. Even when someone grasps the mathematics, however, it’s hard to take the risk. Why? About 50 years ago, the psychologists Amos Tversky and Daniel Kahneman showed that this hesitation is not random. People depart from logic in patterned ways. One of the most durable patterns is loss aversion: our tendency to feel the pain of losing more sharply than the pleasure of an equivalent, or even greater, gain. This is where mindfulness becomes interesting. Mindfulness is usually defined as paying attention to the present moment, on purpose, without immediately judging what is happening. In practice, that can mean noticing a thought before believing it, feeling an emotion before acting on it, or returning attention to the body, the breath, or the world around you. At its simplest, mindfulness creates a pause between what arises in the mind and what we do next. That pause helps because many of our choices are made before we have fully examined them. We may think we are deliberating over the coin toss, but often the body has moved first: recoiling from loss or preserving a decision simply because we have already invested in it. These mental shortcuts are called cognitive biases, and the study of this kind of human misjudgment is central to decision science. © Aeon Media Group Ltd. 2012-2026.
Keyword: Attention; Emotions
Link ID: 30319 - Posted: 07.11.2026
By Natalia Mesa If a longtime friend suddenly becomes a foe, like Brutus to Caesar or Iago to Othello, the brain must update the person’s feelings about the betrayer without altering memories of who that companion is. The hippocampus may sometimes store both pieces of information, but when it comes to updating feelings, it keeps identity and emotional valence separate, according to a mouse study published today in Science. “We found the neural mechanisms that underlie emotion toward others,” says study investigator Teruhiro Okuyama, professor at the Institute of Quantitative Biosciences at the University of Tokyo: Memory-storing neurons in the hippocampus remain relatively stable, but the strength of their connections to the basolateral amygdala neurons shift, the study shows. Okuyama and his colleagues used chemogenetics to induce aggression in previously docile mice and optogenetics to trace how hippocampal circuits change in the animal’s cagemate. They found that they could both “write and erase social memories” by targeting specific neuron populations. “It’s truly unbelievable how much they did in this paper,” says Robert Malenka, professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Stanford University, who was not involved in the work. “They did a beautiful job of taking three brain areas and defining the connectivity and the cell-type-specific connections that are responsible for the phenomenon they’re studying.” Neurons in the hippocampus store social memories and segregate positive and negative ones, previous work shows. But most past work has studied how negative run-ins with unfamiliar animals affect behavior. © 2026 Simons Foundation
Keyword: Aggression; Sexual Behavior
Link ID: 30318 - Posted: 07.11.2026
By Jake Currie One theory, the social brain hypothesis, says we owe our massive noggins in part to the evolutionary pressure exerted by the demands of large social groups. Because we needed to keep a running tally of friends and foes to navigate thorny hierarchies and shifting alliances, we had to have brains that were up to the task (which is why this theory is also known as the Machiavellian intelligence hypothesis). In many animals, especially mammals, there does seem to be a correlation between social group size and brain size. But there’s at least one big exception to this rule: cephalopods. Cephalopods like octopuses have huge brains but aren’t really known for their gregarious behavior. They tend to live solitary lives, mating without forming pair bonds and reproducing without parenting their young. In fact, their behavior can stray into the downright anti-social—many species are territorial, aggressive, and cannibalistic. Still, they’re incredibly intelligent. Octopuses use tools, solve problems, and even like to play. So if sociality can’t explain big cephalopod brains, what can? In a new paper published in iScience, an international team of researchers proposed a new version of the cultural brain hypothesis. This hypothesis—first advanced by one of the authors of the current study—states that big brains evolved to handle mountains of information that are learned both socially and asocially. In this latest research, the team focuses solely on the asocial pathway to brain evolution. To test their asocial brain hypothesis, the team compiled data on cephalopod brain size as well as ecological, behavioral, and social factors from 79 cephalopod species. They found that several ecological factors seemed to correlate with big cephalopod brains, especially the complexity of their habitats. Cephalopods that lived on the ocean floor and in shallow pools—where cleverness can be rewarded with calorie-rich prey—tended to have larger brains. Sociality, on the other hand, showed no such correlation.
Keyword: Evolution
Link ID: 30317 - Posted: 07.11.2026
By Jim Robbins Imagine a chicken that could speak or a pigeon with a voice rivaling that of the most musical songbirds. Granted, the world probably doesn’t need any gossiping chickens or pigeons breaking out in song. But why some birds learn to create a deep repertoire and others are unable to has long been a research focus of the neurobiologist Erich D. Jarvis. “Vocal learning, just like spoken language itself, is a rare trait,” said Dr. Jarvis, who directs the Neurogenetics of Language laboratory at Rockefeller University in New York. He studies the small group of species capable of speech, focusing on birds and mice, and he has long hoped to genetically engineer an animal that can vocalize in new ways. Introducing manipulated genes into the brain of a bird or a mouse that doesn’t vocalize could create that ability and provide new clues into the origins of speech. It may also one day help in finding treatments for people with speech problems or brain disorders. Dr. Jarvis, 60, didn’t start his career in neuroengineering. He once hoped to become a professional dancer, performing ballet at Manhattan’s renowned High School for the Performing Arts and then studying at the Alvin Ailey dance school. He was a member of the Westchester Ballet Company when he began wondering how the brain was able to create dance movements. His mentor at Rockefeller was Fernando Nottebohm, the researcher who discovered in the early 1980s that songbird brains generate new neurons each spring to enable them to sing. That revolutionary understanding of neurogenesis led to further findings that all brains, including human ones, grow new neurons throughout life. Until then, it had been scientific gospel that people came into the world with a fixed number. From 2002 to 2005, Dr. Jarvis helped lead the Avian Brain Nomenclature Consortium, a project that renamed the regions of the avian brain to show that it was remarkably sophisticated. The research undermined the use of the term “bird brain” as a pejorative. © 2026 The New York Times Company
Keyword: Animal Communication; Language
Link ID: 30316 - Posted: 07.08.2026
By Sandy Ong On a Sunday afternoon in April, the main minibus terminal in Sukabumi, Indonesia, looked sleepy from the outside. But in an open space round the back, hundreds of men were gathered. Amid chatter and cigarette smoke, the air buzzed with excitement, for one of the region’s biggest bird-singing competitions was set to begin, and a motorbike was among the prizes. As the day progressed, dozens of songbirds were brought out for their 10-minute rounds, from tiny garden sunbirds and grey-cheeked bulbuls to larger oriental magpie-robins and orange-headed thrushes. Then the emcee announced the main event — the singing contest among the highly popular, strikingly handsome white-rumped shamas — and a hush fell over the crowd. The shamas’ owners murmured final words of encouragement and stepped away from their cages. Judges swept in with clipboards, assessing each bird for its song, ability to hold a steady tune, volume and showmanship. Soon it was down to a final two birds . . . and then “Baby White” was crowned the winner amid cheers from the crowd. Many men gathered on a patio beneath hanging cages holding songbirds Since the 1970s, songbird competitions have grown in popularity across Indonesia. With goats, motorcycles, watches and money (sometimes worth up to 10 years’ salary) up for grabs, the events are driving hordes of people to keep songbirds as pets. Indonesians have a long-standing culture of keeping birds as pets, and songbirds are especially popular, prized by collectors for their melodious singing and colorful plumage. “I keep songbirds as a hobby, to relieve stress and also gain a bit of money,” explained Harry Gunawan, a 78-year-old businessman and owner of 39 shamas, including the multiple prizewinning Baby White, while waiting for his new motorbike. Gunawan’s shamas are among an estimated 66 million to 84 million caged birds that are kept across Java, the island where 56 percent of Indonesia’s population lives and one in three households owns birds. These include more than 3 million white-rumped shamas and 2 million oriental magpie-robins. Wild birds are believed to be better songsters; hence, many are trapped in forests then crammed into tiny crates, drainpipes and even plastic bottles, destined for pet markets in Jakarta, Surabaya and other big cities. Birds that survive the journey — estimates of mortality rates range from 30 to 80 percent — will spend the rest of their lives confined to cages.
Keyword: Animal Communication; Language
Link ID: 30315 - Posted: 07.08.2026
By Azeen Ghorayshi In early June, Ally Betchan and her family made the monthly trek from their small central Texas town to a therapy center in Austin, hoping that she could learn to communicate. Like nearly 30 percent of people with autism, Ally is severely disabled and does not speak. Ally, 22, sat quietly in a small room next to her instructor, Soma Mukhopadhyay, a sprightly 63-year-old who, by contrast, talked almost nonstop. More than 30 years ago, Ms. Mukhopadhyay taught her nonspeaking autistic son, Tito, to write and type independently, creating a communication method that supporters hailed as transformative and critics have challenged ever since. Ms. Mukhopadhyay held up a clear plastic sheet marked with the alphabet, prompting Ally to make up a story. As Ally tugged rhythmically at her purse, she slowly pointed at letters to spell “DONNA KNOWS,” and then seemed to get stuck, pointing to a jumble of letters. “I’m so lost,” Ms. Mukhopadhyay said, shaking the sheet and pressing her to try again. As Ms. Mukhopadhyay occasionally tapped under the letter board on her thigh or leaned in the direction of a letter, Ally eventually spelled: “CARING HURTS.” “‘Donna knows caring hurts’ — that is a life lesson,” Ms. Mukhopadhyay said, nodding in agreement. Then, Ally jabbed many letters in quick succession, but distinctly: “SHE LOVES THOSE WHO CARE FOR HER.” Sitting beside her, Ally’s mother, aunt and grandmother smiled. Ms. Mukhopadhyay’s technique, called the Rapid Prompting Method, or R.P.M., is one of several intended to help nonverbal people learn to communicate using letter boards held in midair by another person. At the core of these assisted spelling methods is a radical assertion: that nonspeaking autistic people, many of whom have been considered intellectually disabled their whole lives, may have typical or even extraordinary cognitive abilities, obscured by motor problems and an overwhelmed sensory system that has cut them off from the world around them. © 2026 The New York Times Company
Keyword: Autism; Language
Link ID: 30314 - Posted: 07.08.2026
By Natalia Mesa To accurately navigate the world, an animal must learn, remember and continually update how its body position relates to what it sees in the world around it. New findings reveal the circuit mechanisms responsible for this process in fruit flies—and upend a widely held assumption that this kind of learning relies on dopamine. The research “solves this long-standing problem of how you learn about landmarks in the world,” says Lisa Giocomo, professor of neurobiology at Stanford University, who was not involved in the study. “Over the last decade, some of the biggest insights into how the brain generates algorithms for navigational systems have come from Drosophila,” she says. “It’s been astonishing to see what’s been possible with that system.” When a neuron in a fly’s internal compass activates at the same time as a cell responding to a visual landmark, a third type of cell called an EL neuron releases the neuromodulator octopamine onto the visual inputs, according to the work, posted as a preprint in December 2025 and presented at the Jane Coffin Childs Symposium in May 2026. Octopamine acts as a signal that modifies the connection between the compass and visual cells, anchoring the fly’s sense of direction to visual cues. To their knowledge, the synaptic and circuit mechanisms the fly uses to update its internal compass work unlike any yet described, the study investigators say. “It’s a completely new learning mechanism, basically,” says Stanley Heinze, senior lecturer of sensory biology at Lund University, who was not involved in the study. Fruit flies, like other animals, have an internal compass made up of head direction cells that selectively activate based on the direction the fly faces. The fly’s internal representation of the world drifts without visual input but quickly reorients when familiar landmarks reappear. © 2026 Simons Foundation
Keyword: Learning & Memory; Evolution
Link ID: 30313 - Posted: 07.08.2026


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