The Tell-Tale Brain: A Neuroscientist's Quest for What Makes Us Human

Like my previous books, The Tell-Tale Brain is written in a conversational style for a general audience. I presume some degree of interest in science and curiosity about human nature, but I do not presume any sort of formal scientific background or even familiarity with my previous works. I hope this book proves instructive and inspiring to students of all levels and backgrounds, to colleagues in other disciplines, and to lay readers with no personal or professional stake in these topics. Thus in writing this book I faced the standard challenge of popularization, which is to tread the fine line between simplification and accuracy. Oversimplification can draw ire from hard-nosed colleagues and, worse, can make readers feel like they are being talked down to. On the other hand, too much detail can be off-putting to nonspecialists. The casual reader wants a thought-provoking guided tour of an unfamiliar subject—not a treatise, not a tome. I have done my best to strike the right balance.

Speaking of accuracy, let me be the first to point out that some of the ideas I present in this book are, shall we say, on the speculative side. Many of the chapters rest on solid foundations, such as my work on phantom limbs, visual perception, synesthesia, and the Capgras delusion. But I also tackle a few elusive and less well-charted topics, such as the origins of art and the nature of self-awareness. In such cases I have let educated guesswork and intuition steer my thinking wherever solid empirical data are spotty. This is nothing to be ashamed of: Every virgin area of scientific inquiry must first be explored in this way. It is a fundamental element of the scientific process that when data are scarce or sketchy and existing theories are anemic, scientists must brainstorm. We need to roll out our best hypotheses, hunches, and hare-brained, half-baked intuitions, and then rack our brains for ways to test them. You see this all the time in the history of science. For instance, one of the earliest models of the atom likened it to plum pudding, with electrons nested like plums in the thick “batter” of the atom. A few decades later physicists were thinking of atoms as miniature solar systems, with orderly electrons that orbit the nucleus like planets around a star. Each of these models was useful, and each got us a little bit closer to the final (or at least, the current) truth. So it goes. In my own field my colleagues and I are making our best effort to advance our understanding of some truly mysterious and hard-to-pin-down faculties. As the biologist Peter Medawar pointed out, “All good science emerges from an imaginative conception of what might be true.” I realize, however, that in spite of this disclaimer I will probably annoy at least some of my colleagues. But as Lord Reith, the first director-general of the BBC, once pointed out, “There are some people whom it is one’s duty to annoy.”

Boyhood Seductions