How Does The Brain “Work?”
My latest episode of Brave New World features Tony Zador from the Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory. Tony asks fundamental questions about human intelligence that are rooted in biology. One such question is about the relationship between the genome and the brain: how does the human genome, which isn’t much longer than that of a worm, give rise to the complexity of the human brain? More broadly, how has evolution influenced our genome and hence how our brains are “wired?”
It seems commonly accepted in Neuroscience that animals come pre-wired with neural circuitry that helps them survive in the critical minutes, days, or months after birth, and also enables them to learn from their environment. In other words, animals come pre-wired with some useful innate capability as well as the capacity to learn useful things from their surroundings. Machine learning has focused largely on the latter, but is now looking increasingly to biology to take AI to the next level, providing more nuance to the age-old “nature versus nurture debate.” It isn’t a debate anymore, but an inquiry into how the two work together in enabling intelligence.
These are fascinating questions at the frontier of neuroscience and Artificial Intelligence. So, check out the episode with Tony.
Looking ahead, I can’t help but wonder whether technologies like CRISPR signal a new course for humanity. Our genome and brains have been shaped over millions of years by Darwinian evolution. Are we at the cusp of a new era, where humans will be “designed?” This goes well beyond Elon Musk’s “neural lace,” where electrodes monitor and control the brain, into the design of the brain itself. I can imagine that we will focus initially on eradicating disease, but the genie is out the bottle: once we understand the consequences of altering the genome, we could morph into a designed species. I’m bummed I won’t see this future play out.
What Would You Study Now If Your Future Is Ahead of You?
Last night, I made dinner for six twenty-somethings. They had all taken courses in neuroscience in college! That’s quite a change from a few years ago. If I had my life ahead of me and were passionate about the sciences, I’d probably do the same.
I commonly ask my guests at the end of each podcast for their advice to young people. I particularly liked what John Sexton had to say. John was the President of NYU for 15 years and launched the university as a global learning and research institution, establishing a major campus in Abu Dhabi and then in Shanghai.
John’s advice?
“Follow your passion and keep your material needs low, don’t let them escalate. If you keep your needs low and are smart and follow your passion, you will have a joyful and fulfilling life.”
In terms of choosing where to study, John’s advice is “Don’t get caught up in the external badges of excellence. Go for the internal. Find your passions. It means choosing your college based on them, not some list (of ‘alpha schools’) put out by somebody else for a cocktail party conversation.”
I never had the luxury to think like that as a kid. I was privileged to attend very good schools and universities, but the Indian middle-class advice from parents during the 60s (which is probably common even now) was “study something so you can get a job.” I don’t recall anyone telling me to “follow my passion!” People would look at you strangely if you said you wanted to study philosophy or sociology.
What happens if you don’t know what your passions are, I asked John? Maybe it’s a question of finding what you are good at and developing a passion for it? That’s what my friend and colleague Scott Galloway advocates. Michael Roth, the President of Wesleyan University, advises us to maximize for “serendipitous encounters.” I can completely identify with that strategy having followed it myself, but I can’t but help feel how different things would have turned out if I had asked myself about my passion and followed it.
Regardless of whether you follow your passion, develop one, or encounter it through serendipity, John Sexton quotes one of his former teachers: “Play another octave on the piano! If there are notes you haven’t touched, explore them.” Great advice.
Yellowstone
I’ve been watching “Yellowstone,” featuring Kevin Costner and the Dutton family. I’m hooked, and paying a fair bit to watch each season on Amazon Prime. (I keep telling myself I should buy Amazon stock.)
Yellowstone brings back all kinds of memories from the 60s. I was a voracious consumer of “Westerns” by Louis L’Amour (Black Mesa: No Place for a Tenderfoot) and Oliver Strange whose “Sudden” series featured the sardonic James Green – the fastest draw in the west, using his skills to do good. I loved all the cowboy and “Injun” movies with horses thundering through ravines and mesas. As a kid in the mid-60s in Addis Ababa where my dad was the military attaché, I used to look forward to watching “Bonanza” featuring Lorne Greene and the Cartwright family on Monday nights. (“Ringo” by Lorne Greene was a favorite.)
Talking about old television shows, I often ask my students whether they’ve watched American shows from the 50s and 60s, like “The Honeymooners” and “Bonanza.” I usually get blank stares to which I respond “C’mon yawl, why does an immigrant like myself have you educate you about your own culture?!” One of my guests, Jonathan Haidt, commented that the vast majority of content consumed by young people these days originated in the last few days, often created by peers! For my generation, the content we consumed had been created by previous generations. There’s something to be said for that. Be current, but consider the wisdom (and sometimes the lack thereof) of previous generations. That’s my advice as a Bob Marley fan: don’t forget your history, otherwise you won’t know where you’re coming from.
And I sure hope we don’t “cancel” shows like The Honeymooners and Bonanza! I’m with John McWhorter on this one: let us not infantilize ourselves to the point where we feel like we’re living in a weird type of authoritarian state where we can’t speak freely without worrying about offending someone.
Until next time,
V/