Posts Tagged ‘Harvard’
“Eureka!”*…
Whence insight?…
New research published in BMC Psychology suggests that the structural wiring of the brain may play a significant role in how people solve problems through sudden insight. The study indicates that individuals who frequently experience “Aha!” moments tend to have less organized white matter pathways in specific language-processing areas of the left hemisphere. These findings imply that a slightly less rigid neural structure might allow the brain to relax its focus, enabling the unique connections required for creative breakthroughs.
For decades, scientists have studied the phenomenon of insight, which occurs when a solution to a problem enters awareness suddenly and unexpectedly. This is often contrasted with analytical problem solving, which involves a deliberate and continuous step-by-step approach.
While previous studies using functional MRI and EEG have mapped the brain activity that occurs during these moments, there has been little understanding of the underlying physical structure that supports them. The researchers behind the new study aimed to determine if stable differences in white matter—the bundles of nerve fibers that connect different brain regions—predict an individual’s tendency to solve problems via insight.
“For over two decades, neuroscience has mapped what happens in the brain during these moments using EEG and fMRI. We know from prior research that insight feels sudden, tends to be accurate, and involves distinct functional activation patterns — including a burst of activity in the right temporal cortex just before the solution reaches awareness,” said study authors Carola Salvi of the Cattolica University of Milan and Simone A. Luchini of Pennsylvania State University.
“But one major question remained open: what structural features of the brain might make some people more likely to experience insight in the first place?”
“Most previous white matter studies of creativity did not specifically focus on Aha! experiences. They measured how many problems people solved, or how creatively, not how they solved them (with or without these sudden epiphanies). Yet insight and non insight solutions are phenomenologically and neurally distinct processes.”
White matter acts as the communication infrastructure of the brain, transmitting signals between distant regions. To examine this structure, the researchers employed a technique called Diffusion Tensor Imaging (DTI). This method tracks the movement of water molecules within brain tissue.
“We wanted to know whether stable white matter microstructure — the brain’s anatomical wiring — differs depending on whether someone tends to solve problems through sudden insight or through deliberate step-by-step reasoning (non insight solutions),” Salvi and Luchini explained. “Diffusion tensor imaging (DTI) allowed us to examine this structural dimension directly.”…
… The findings offered a counterintuitive perspective on brain connectivity. The analysis revealed that participants who solved more problems via insight exhibited lower fractional anisotropy in the left hemisphere’s dorsal language network. This network includes the arcuate fasciculus and the superior longitudinal fasciculus, pathways that connect brain regions responsible for language production, comprehension, and semantic processing.
“One striking finding was that people who more frequently experienced insight showed lower fractional anisotropy in specific left-hemisphere dorsal language pathways, including parts of the arcuate fasciculus and superior longitudinal fasciculus,” Salvi and Luchini told PsyPost.
“At first glance, that might sound counterintuitive. Fractional anisotropy is often interpreted as reflecting the coherence or organization of white matter pathways. In many cognitive domains, higher fractional anisotropy is associated with better performance.”
“But insight may operate differently. The left hemisphere is typically involved in focused, fine-grained semantic processing — narrowing in on dominant interpretations of words and concepts. The right hemisphere, by contrast, is thought to support broader, ‘coarse’ semantic coding — integrating more distantly related ideas. Slightly lower fractional anisotropy in left dorsal language pathways may reflect a system that is less tightly constrained by dominant interpretations.
“In other words, it may allow a partial ‘release’ from habitual patterns of thought and it is in line with other studies where lesions in the left frontotemporal regions have been shown to increase artistic creativity,” Salvi and Luchini continued. “Taken together, these findings imply that left hemispheric regions play a regulatory role in creativity and that their disruption lifts this constraint, thus promoting novel ideas.”…
This somehow makes your correspondent feel better about his messy desk…
More at: “Neuroscientists identify a unique feature in the brain’s wiring that predicts sudden epiphanies,” from @psypost.bsky.social.
The journal paper: “The white matter of Aha! moments.”
* Archimedes (after one of his famous insights)
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As we ruminate on revelation, we might recall that it was on this date in 1939 that the college fad of swallowing live goldfish began at Harvard: a freshman named Lothrop Withington, Jr., reportedly bragged to his friends that he had once eaten a live fish. They bet him 10 bucks he couldn’t do it again. Perhaps because he was running for Class President, he took the challenge…
The moment of truth came on March 3, within the hallowed halls of Harvard. Standing in front of a crowd of grinning classmates and at least one Boston reporter, Withington dropped an ill-fated 3-inch goldfish into his mouth, gave a couple chews and swallowed. “The scales,” he later remarked, “caught a bit on my throat as it went down.”
Soon the word spread to other colleges. Other students began to take up the challenge, swallowing more and more goldfish each time to top the last record. By the time students were downing dozens of live, wriggling goldfish to uphold their school’s honor, the Massachusetts legislature stepped in and passed a law to “preserve the fish from cruel and wanton consumption.” The U.S. Public Health Service began to issue warnings that the goldfish could pass tapeworms and disease to swallowers. Within a few months of its start, the fad died out.
– Source
“Our research universities are the best in the world. But a leadership position is easy to lose and difficult to regain.”…
Revisiting a key topic that we’ve touched before…
The modern U.S. research universities arose in the late 19th century. Their work has laid the foundation for major advances in health and medicine, technology, communications, agriculture/food, economics, energy, and national security at the same time that they have educated students to be scientific, technical, commerical, and cultural leaders and innovators.
Today, as a product of what historians have called a “virtuous circle of incentives and resources,” American academic research institutions are top of the pops… and not at all coincidentally, so is the U.S economy:
… But that dominance is under attack, both by the Trump Administration and by state governments around the country actively undermining the work of their state universities.
It’s worth remembering that, into the early twentieth century, German Universities– the original models for the American approach— dominated the list.
As the U.S. increasingly models the behavior of German authorities in the 1930s, the vital contributions of research univerisities are at risk.
When Hitler rose to power in the 1930s, the leaders of America’s most august universities didn’t all comport themselves as one might have wished. We can only hope that this time– as the threat is aimed directly at them– they will respond more strongly and directly.
Meantime, we can all add our voices to the defense of academic freedom and support for vital research.
* Research Universities and the Future of America, a report from The National Research Council, 2012 (Page 68)
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As we cease self-sabotage, we might spare a thought for a professorial paragon of the virtues of the institutions in question (in his case, on the cultural as opposed to the scientific/technical front), George Lyman Kittredge, a professor at Harvard; he died on this date in 1941. Kittredge’s edition of Shakespeare’s work was the scholarly standard in the early 20th century; he promoted the study of folklore and folk songs (encouraging students like John A. Lomax, and thus Lomax’s son, Alan); and he was instrumental in the formation and management of the Harvard University Press.
“The commonality between science and art is in trying to see profoundly – to develop strategies of seeing and showing”*…
Working with her scientist husband, Orra Hitchcock produced illustrations on bolts of linen that manifest original knowledge about extinction, stratigraphy, and their evidentiary features in the surrounding landscape– and trained eager young students to recognize and describe geological and natural-historical phenomena…
After meeting and falling in love with Edward Hitchcock, her employer at Massachusetts’ Deerfield Academy, Orra (née White) married him in 1821, beginning a lifetime of professional collaboration while raising a family amid piles of rocks and research tomes. Highly trained, white, and wealthy, she was far from an oddity in nineteenth-century education. Like many other women of her class, Hitchcock received extensive instruction in the arts and sciences, making a name by working alongside, not beneath, a man who had easier access to academic opportunities. Variously lauded as “an anomaly” and “the most remarkable” of their era, her scientific illustrations have rarely been considered on their own terms — admired for the natural historical and religious knowledge they contain — without being made an exemplar of the broader category of “women’s work”.
Moving to Amherst when Edward was appointed Professor of Chemistry and Natural History, the couple embarked on a decades-long exploration of the Connecticut River Valley’s botany and geology. While Edward lectured to eager young students about the principles of nature, from the depths of oceans to the granite veins of the earth, Orra produced more than sixty hand-colored scientific illustrations on poster-sized linen swaths designed to be hung on classroom walls.
Ranging from extinct mammals like Megatherium (a genus of giant ground sloth [below]) through lithic strata to fossilized footprints, the collection is striking for its modern abstraction, anticipating the later works of George Maw. Although some of Hitchcock’s geological illustrations seem far from “accurate” in their specificity (or lack thereof), her devotion to clear and concise visual communication bespeaks a deep-seated understanding of complex scientific principles…
An appreciation: “Orra White Hitchcock’s Scientific Illustrations for the Classroom (1828–40),” from @PublicDomainRev.
* Edward Tufte
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As we picture it, we might send sharply-observant birthday greetings to Cecilia Helena Payne-Gaposchkin; she was born on this date in 1900. An astrophysicist and astronomer, she was the first– in her Radcliffe (Harvard) PhD thesis in 1927– to apply the laws of atomic physics to the study of the temperature and density of stellar bodies: the first to conclude that hydrogen and helium are the two most common elements in the universe and the first to suggest that the Sun is primarily (99%) composed of hydrogen. During the 1920s, the accepted explanation of the Sun’s composition was a calculation of around 65% iron and 35% hydrogen. Her thesis adviser, astronomer Henry Norris Russell, reached a similar conclusion via his own observations several years later, and (while he made brief mention of Payne’s work) was for a time credited with the discovery. But in 1947, astronomer Fred Hoyle confirmed her original claim.
She spent her entire career at Harvard. In 1956 she became the first woman to be promoted to full professor from within the faculty at Harvard’s Faculty of Arts and Sciences. Later, with her appointment to the Chair of the Department of Astronomy, she also became the first woman to head a department at Harvard.
Her students included Helen Sawyer Hogg, Joseph Ashbrook, Paul W. Hodge, and Frank Drake (the creator of the Drake Equation)– all of whom made important contributions to astronomy.
“Facts are facts and will not disappear on account of your likes”*…
… That said, some facts may morph out from under us. In consideration of “in-between” facts:
When people think of knowledge, they generally think of two sorts of facts: facts that don’t change, like the height of Mount Everest or the capital of the United States, and facts that fluctuate constantly, like the temperature or the stock market close.
But in between there is a third kind: facts that change slowly. These are facts which we tend to view as fixed, but which shift over the course of a lifetime. For example: What is Earth’s population? I remember learning 6 billion, and some of you might even have learned 5 billion. Well, it turns out it’s about 6.8 billion.
Or, imagine you are considering relocating to another city. Not recognizing the slow change in the economic fortunes of various metropolitan areas, you immediately dismiss certain cities. For example, Pittsburgh, a city in the core of the historic Rust Belt of the United States, was for a long time considered to be something of a city to avoid. But recently, its economic fortunes have changed, swapping steel mills for technology, with its job growth ranked sixth in the entire United States.
These slow-changing facts are what I term “mesofacts.” Mesofacts are the facts that change neither too quickly nor too slowly, that lie in this difficult-to-comprehend middle, or meso-, scale. Often, we learn these in school when young and hold onto them, even after they change. For example, if, as a baby boomer, you learned high school chemistry in 1970, and then, as we all are apt to do, did not take care to brush up on your chemistry periodically, you would not realize that there are 12 new elements in the Periodic Table. Over a tenth of the elements have been discovered since you graduated high school! While this might not affect your daily life, it is astonishing and a bit humbling.
For these kinds of facts, the analogy of how to boil a frog is apt: Change the temperature quickly, and the frog jumps out of the pot. But slowly increase the temperature, and the frog doesn’t realize that things are getting warmer, until it’s been boiled. So, too, is it with humans and how we process information. We recognize rapid change, whether it’s as simple as a fast-moving object or living with the knowledge that humans have walked on the moon. But anything short of large-scale rapid change is often ignored. This is the reason we continue to write the wrong year during the first days of January.
Our schools are biased against mesofacts. The arc of our educational system is to be treated as little generalists when children, absorbing bits of knowledge about everything from biology to social studies to geology. But then, as we grow older, we are encouraged to specialize. This might have been useful in decades past, but in our increasingly fast-paced and interdisciplinary world, lacking an even approximate knowledge of our surroundings is unwise.
Updating your mesofacts can change how you think about the world. Do you know the percentage of people in the world who use mobile phones? In 1997, the answer was 4 percent. By 2007, it was nearly 50 percent. The fraction of people who are mobile phone users is the kind of fact you might read in a magazine and quote at a cocktail party. But years later the number you would be quoting would not just be inaccurate, it would be seriously wrong. The difference between a tiny fraction of the world and half the globe is startling, and completely changes our view on global interconnectivity.
Mesofacts can also be fun. Let’s focus for a moment on some mesofacts that can be of vital importance if you’re a child, or parent of a child: those about dinosaurs. Just a few decades ago, dinosaurs were thought to be cold-blooded, slow-witted lizards that walked with their legs splayed out beside them. Now, scientists think that many dinosaurs were warm-blooded and fast-moving creatures. And they even had feathers! Just a few weeks ago we learned about the color patterns of dinosaurs (stripes! with orange tufts!). These facts might not affect how you live your life, but then again, you’re probably not 6 years old. There is another mesofact that is unlikely to affect your daily routine, but might win you a bar bet: the number of planets known outside the solar system. After the first extrasolar planet around an ordinary star made headlines back in 1995, most people stopped paying attention. Well, the number of extrasolar planets is currently over 400. Know this, and the next round won’t be on you.
The fact that the world changes rapidly is exciting, but everyone knows about that. There is much change that is neither fast nor momentous, but no less breathtaking.
Introducing the mesofact: “Warning- Your reality is out of date,” from Samuel Arbesman (@arbesman) who went on to develop this notion in a wonderful book, The Half-Life of Facts. Via @inevernu who notes that the above article, which ran in 2010, contains examples of mesofacts that have already changed again– illustrating Arbesman’s point…
* Jawaharlal Nehru
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As we noodle on knowledge, we might recall that it was on this date in 1642 that the first American college commencement ceremony was held at Harvard College. It was North America’s first taste of non-religious ritual– and was designed to send a clear message to England that its American colonies were a going concern. Still, of the nine seniors graduated, three soon crossed the Atlantic the other way, one to serve as a diplomat for the rebellious Oliver Cromwell and another to study medicine in Italy.
Apropos the piece above, the curriculum followed by those graduates was rather different– was filled with different facts– than those of classes in later centuries.
“Magic is an art form where you lie and tell people you are lying”…
Left: “Pheon Waltz Song” with Herrmann dancing on the cover, 1896. (Photo courtesy of New York Public Library). Right: Poster of Herrmann and Company, around 1905. (Photo courtesy of McCord Museum)
In Baltimore, 1878, an eerie silence settled over the crowd in Ford’s Grand Opera House. The boisterous applause for Herrmann the Great’s wondrous illusions, in which the nattily dressed magician in a black velvet suit pulled a rabbit from his hat and levitated a sleeping woman, had abruptly stopped. A net was stretched across the full width of the theater, and the audience knew that the culmination of the evening — the cannon act — had arrived.
A young woman dressed in spangled red tights stepped into an upper stage box where the cannon waited, and was helped into the barrel. When she had vanished from view, Herrmann the Great yelled out: “Are you ready!”
“Yes,” came her muffled response. “Go!”
There was an explosion.
A flash of gunpowder.
And she flew 50 feet through the air.
Only when she landed safely in the net and the smoke cleared did the audience break into a thunder of cheers that lasted on and on as the curtain rose and fell over the bowing Herrmann the Great and the intrepid young woman.
Although the 19th-century audience might not have noticed, she’d also been the evening’s levitating sleeper, the bicycle rider who carried a girl on her shoulders, and the dancer who spectrally swirled in red silk like a pillar of fire. Her name was Adelaide Herrmann, Herrmann the Great’s wife and daring assistant. She was not supposed to be a human cannonball.
She’d taken over that role in Caracas, Venezuela, when their trapeze artists quit halfway through a South American tour, and she described her anxiety the first night “as a condemned man must feel as the fatal hour approaches.” But as she was loaded into the cannon, she showed no fear.
In 1896, Herrmann the Great — a.k.a. Alexander Herrmann — died, leaving his wife responsible for a traveling company, a herd of performing animals, and a lot of debt. If she was frightened, if she was weary, she hid it just as well as she did that night when she was first shot out of a cannon. Adelaide had no choice but to promote herself from assistant to headliner and take center stage.
“Hearts may be torn, bitter tears may be shed, but we of the stage have a jealous mistress in the public, which demands that we be gnawing at the soul,” she wrote.
She would become the Queen of Magic — one of the most celebrated magicians in the world…
When her husband died and left her penniless, audacious Adelaide Hermann transformed from lowly assistant to “the Queen of Magic”– the extraordinary story: “She Caught Bullets with Her Bare Hands — and Made Magic’s Glass Ceiling Disappear.”
* Teller
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As we believe in magic, we might spare a thought for Elizabeth Cabot Agassiz (née Cary), the naturalist and educator who was the co-founder and first president of Radcliffe College; she died this date in 1907. After the death of her husband, Swiss naturalist Louis Agassiz, with whom she traveled on scientific expeditions, she settled on the idea of college for women in the “Harvard Annex” in Cambridge; in 1894 the Annex became Radcliffe College. She served as its first president until 1899, then honorary president until 1903. Her books include A First Lesson in Natural History (1859), and A Journey in Brazil (1867).
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