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Corpus publishes a book by neuroscientist Michael Gazzaniga “Stories from different hemispheres of the brain. Life in Neuroscience ”translated by Yulia Pliskina and Svetlana Yastrebova. Gazzaniga talks about the split brain, which he has been researching since the 1960s. After the separation, the right and left halves of the brain begin to function independently of each other - in fact, two independent minds arise in the head. We are publishing an excerpt from the chapter on how, more than half a century ago, they began to study the split brain in patients who underwent surgery on the corpus callosum.
Michael Gazzaniga (MG): Fix your gaze on a point.
WJ: You mean a little piece of paper stuck to the screen?
MG: Yes, this is the point ... Look directly at it.
WJ: Good.
I make sure it is looking directly at the point, and I display a simple object, the square to the right of the point, for exactly 100 milliseconds. An object located in this way is projected into the left, "speaking" hemisphere of the brain. This test developed by me with Akelaitis patients has not yet been performed.
M.G .: What did you see?
W.J .: Rectangle.
M.G .: Okay, let's try again. Fix your gaze on a point.
WJ: You mean a piece of paper?
M.G .: Yes, exactly. Look at him.
And again I display an image of a square on the screen, but this time to the left of the point at which the patient's gaze is fixed, and it falls only into the right hemisphere of the brain, which is not able to speak. Due to a special operation in which the connecting fibers between the hemispheres were dissected, WJ's right hemisphere could no longer communicate with the left. This was a defining moment. My heartbeat quickens, my mouth dries up when I ask:
M.G .: What did you see?
W.J .: Nothing.
M.G .: Nothing? Have you seen anything?
W.J .: Nothing.
The heart is pounding. I'm starting to sweat. Have I just seen two brains, or rather, two minds, working separately from each other in the same head? One could speak, the other could not. It happened, didn't it?
WJ: Would you like me to do something else?
M.G .: Yes, one moment.
I quickly find even simpler slides where only isolated small circles are projected onto the screen. Each slide shows only one circle, but it appears on the screen every time in a different place. What happens if the patient is simply asked to indicate what he sees?
MG: Just point your hand at what you see.
W.J .: On the screen?
MG: Yes, and with whatever hand you want.
WJ: Good.
MG: Fix your gaze on the point.
The circle is highlighted to the right of the point at which the gaze is fixed, which allows the patient's left hemisphere to see it. WJ's right hand rises off the table and points to where the circle was. We do this a few more times, with the circle appearing on one half of the screen, then on the other. Nothing changes. When the circle is to the right of the gaze fixation point, the right hand, controlled by the left hemisphere, points to it. When the circle is located to the left of the gaze fixation point, it is indicated by the left hand, controlled by the right hemisphere. One hand or the other correctly points to the right place on the screen. This means that each hemisphere actually sees a circle when it is in the opposite field of view, and each, apart from the other, can direct the hand it controls to respond to the stimulus. However, only the left hemisphere is able to say this. I can hardly contain myself. O sweetness of discovery!
This is how the line of research begins, which twenty years later, almost one day, will be awarded the Nobel Prize.
Choose any period in your life, in the events of which many people took part, and each of them will retell the story in its own way. I have six children, and the whole crowd comes home for the Christmas holidays. Hearing their memories of childhood, I am amazed at how differently the same events were captured in their memory. This is true for all of us when we recall events from our professional life. The factual side of scientific research was in the foreground, and what was happening in the background? Of course, that magical moment with W.J. happened not only because of the two of us.
The brave doctor and his voluntary patient
Joseph Bogen was a young neurosurgeon, bright and energetic, and he promoted the idea of performing brain splitting operations on humans. He convinced the head of the neurosurgery department, Peter Vogel, to perform the first modern brain splitting operations. Joe was a tireless intellectual with a special taste for life and helped to see the project from a valuable medical point of view. And he was also the one who found the first suitable patient. I could explain how it happened, but he himself will tell much better about it, remembering that patient and those early years. Patient W.J.'s revolutionary contribution is evident from the outset:
“I first met Bill Jenkins in the summer of 1960 when he was brought to intensive care in status epilepticus; I was on duty at the neurological department at that moment. In the months that followed, heterogeneity became apparent to me, coupled with drug resistance and the severity of his multifocal seizures. Both in the clinic and in the hospital, I witnessed psychomotor disorders, sudden drops in muscle tone and unilateral twitching, as well as generalized seizures. In late 1960, I wrote to Maitland Baldwin, then head of the NIH (National Institutes of Health) neurosurgery department in Bethesda, Maryland. A few months later, Bill was transferred to the NIH Epileptology Center, where he spent six weeks. He was sent home in the spring of 1961, told that there was no effective treatment for his case.
Then Bill and his wife Fern were told about the results of the work of Van Wagenen [the neurosurgeon who first dissected the corpus callosum of a person in the 1940s. - Approx. Ed.], mainly with partial dissection of the brain commissures. I suggested that a complete dissection would help. Their enthusiasm inspired me to turn to Phil (my boss): he had extensive experience in the removal of arteriovenous malformations of the corpus callosum. He suggested that we practice in the morgue five or six times. By the end of the summer (during which I again worked as a neurosurgeon), we confidently mastered the technique of the operation. In conversations with Sperry, I emphasized that this is a unique opportunity to test the results of his experiments with cats and monkeys in humans and that his line of research was extremely important. He mentioned that a student, who is about to graduate from Dartmouth College, spent the previous summer in the laboratory and would be delighted to test a person. Mike Gazzaniga began his graduate work in September and, Sperry said, was eager to test a human test subject. We soon became friends and began to plan experiments together.
cops to be done before and after the operation. There was a short delay before her, during which Bill was tested in Sperry's lab. During this delay, we also had the opportunity to document Bill's multiple seizures in sufficient detail and detail.
It was during the preoperative testing period when Bill said, "You know, even if the operation does not help to relieve my seizures, but you will learn something new from it, it will be more beneficial than anything I have done in years."
He was operated on in February 1962. In retrospect, I think that if there had been a research committee in our hospital at that time, the approval of its members would have been required for any procedure, this operation would never have been done. At that time, the head of the department alone could make such a decision, which, I believe, was similar to the situation at the University of Rochester in the late 1930s. "
Science then and now
Then, in 1961, life was simple. Or so it seems now. It was a time when people would go to college, study hard, go to graduate school or graduate school, get an advanced degree, become postdocs, take a paid position, then become professors at some institute. They lived their lives pursuing their intellectual interests. Today, career paths are not so clearly defined and more and more postdocs are leaving for industry, educational activities, start-ups, foreign research organizations, and so on. Many have colleagues who have come from abroad or have spent some time there. This is all fine too, but it differs from the previous order and, in a social sense, is more complexly arranged.
In the early 1960s, some aspects of biology also seemed deceptively simple. Watson and Crick made their groundbreaking discovery of the structure of DNA and its role in heredity. By today's standards of molecular mechanisms, the model they built is simple. Genes produce proteins, and proteins then perform all kinds of bodily functions. One or two - and here you have a complete mechanism. It became known as the Central Dogma. Information moved in one direction - from DNA to proteins, which then gave instructions to the body. Today, however, there are already serious disagreements even about what to call a genome, and even more so about how many different interactions exist between molecules that are believed to be links in a certain causal chain. To further complicate the picture, we add, that information goes in both directions: what is generated, in turn, affects how it is formed. The molecular aspects of life reflect a complex system based on feedback loops and multiple interactions - there is nothing linear or simple about it.
In the early days of modern brain science, discussions were conducted in unpretentious terms. Neuron A sent a signal to neuron B, and that to neuron B. Information was transmitted along a chain and somehow gradually transformed from sensations from sensory systems into actions, under the influence of external reinforcements. Today, such a simplified description of how the brain works looks ridiculous. The interactions of various brain networks are as complex as the interactions of their constituent molecules. The construction of a scheme for their work is almost paralyzing in its complexity. It is good that we did not realize this then, otherwise no one would have dared to take on this work.
Looking back at those early years, I think that the study of the split brain in humans played into the hands of the most naive of the researchers - me. I didn't know anything.
I was just trying to figure out the problem using my own vocabulary and my own simple logic. That was all I had besides endless energy. Ironically, the same was true for Sperry, the most advanced neuroscientist of his era. He had never worked with humans as test subjects before, so we pushed our way forward together.
In a sense, of course, we all understood that split-brain patients are patients with neurological disorders, and neurology was already an established field with a rich vocabulary. Joe was our guide through the minefield of technical terms. Evaluation of a patient with a stroke or degenerative disease has been well established and accurately described. The rich history of the first neurologists has brought us a wealth of information about which part of the brain is responsible for which cognitive functions. The 19th century giants of the profession, Paul Broca and John Hughlings Jackson, and their 20th century counterparts such as the neurosurgeon Wilder Penfield and Norman Geschwind, have all played important roles in the development of the medical perspective on how the brain works.
I still remember the day Joe came to Caltech from White Memorial Hospital to give a workshop in our lab. He described our first results using classic neurological terminology. Although it was not gibberish, it sounded like that to me, and I remember telling Joe and Sperry about it. Joe was very open-minded and consistently progressive. He simply told me, “Okay, describe it better,” and Sperry nodded in agreement. In the years that followed, we did this by developing in our first four articles a dictionary of scientific terms to describe what happens to people who have had their halves of the brain split.
Michael Gazzaniga (MG): Fix your gaze on a point.
WJ: You mean a little piece of paper stuck to the screen?
MG: Yes, this is the point ... Look directly at it.
WJ: Good.
I make sure it is looking directly at the point, and I display a simple object, the square to the right of the point, for exactly 100 milliseconds. An object located in this way is projected into the left, "speaking" hemisphere of the brain. This test developed by me with Akelaitis patients has not yet been performed.
M.G .: What did you see?
W.J .: Rectangle.
M.G .: Okay, let's try again. Fix your gaze on a point.
WJ: You mean a piece of paper?
M.G .: Yes, exactly. Look at him.
And again I display an image of a square on the screen, but this time to the left of the point at which the patient's gaze is fixed, and it falls only into the right hemisphere of the brain, which is not able to speak. Due to a special operation in which the connecting fibers between the hemispheres were dissected, WJ's right hemisphere could no longer communicate with the left. This was a defining moment. My heartbeat quickens, my mouth dries up when I ask:
M.G .: What did you see?
W.J .: Nothing.
M.G .: Nothing? Have you seen anything?
W.J .: Nothing.
The heart is pounding. I'm starting to sweat. Have I just seen two brains, or rather, two minds, working separately from each other in the same head? One could speak, the other could not. It happened, didn't it?
WJ: Would you like me to do something else?
M.G .: Yes, one moment.
I quickly find even simpler slides where only isolated small circles are projected onto the screen. Each slide shows only one circle, but it appears on the screen every time in a different place. What happens if the patient is simply asked to indicate what he sees?
MG: Just point your hand at what you see.
W.J .: On the screen?
MG: Yes, and with whatever hand you want.
WJ: Good.
MG: Fix your gaze on the point.
The circle is highlighted to the right of the point at which the gaze is fixed, which allows the patient's left hemisphere to see it. WJ's right hand rises off the table and points to where the circle was. We do this a few more times, with the circle appearing on one half of the screen, then on the other. Nothing changes. When the circle is to the right of the gaze fixation point, the right hand, controlled by the left hemisphere, points to it. When the circle is located to the left of the gaze fixation point, it is indicated by the left hand, controlled by the right hemisphere. One hand or the other correctly points to the right place on the screen. This means that each hemisphere actually sees a circle when it is in the opposite field of view, and each, apart from the other, can direct the hand it controls to respond to the stimulus. However, only the left hemisphere is able to say this. I can hardly contain myself. O sweetness of discovery!
This is how the line of research begins, which twenty years later, almost one day, will be awarded the Nobel Prize.
Choose any period in your life, in the events of which many people took part, and each of them will retell the story in its own way. I have six children, and the whole crowd comes home for the Christmas holidays. Hearing their memories of childhood, I am amazed at how differently the same events were captured in their memory. This is true for all of us when we recall events from our professional life. The factual side of scientific research was in the foreground, and what was happening in the background? Of course, that magical moment with W.J. happened not only because of the two of us.
The brave doctor and his voluntary patient
Joseph Bogen was a young neurosurgeon, bright and energetic, and he promoted the idea of performing brain splitting operations on humans. He convinced the head of the neurosurgery department, Peter Vogel, to perform the first modern brain splitting operations. Joe was a tireless intellectual with a special taste for life and helped to see the project from a valuable medical point of view. And he was also the one who found the first suitable patient. I could explain how it happened, but he himself will tell much better about it, remembering that patient and those early years. Patient W.J.'s revolutionary contribution is evident from the outset:
“I first met Bill Jenkins in the summer of 1960 when he was brought to intensive care in status epilepticus; I was on duty at the neurological department at that moment. In the months that followed, heterogeneity became apparent to me, coupled with drug resistance and the severity of his multifocal seizures. Both in the clinic and in the hospital, I witnessed psychomotor disorders, sudden drops in muscle tone and unilateral twitching, as well as generalized seizures. In late 1960, I wrote to Maitland Baldwin, then head of the NIH (National Institutes of Health) neurosurgery department in Bethesda, Maryland. A few months later, Bill was transferred to the NIH Epileptology Center, where he spent six weeks. He was sent home in the spring of 1961, told that there was no effective treatment for his case.
Then Bill and his wife Fern were told about the results of the work of Van Wagenen [the neurosurgeon who first dissected the corpus callosum of a person in the 1940s. - Approx. Ed.], mainly with partial dissection of the brain commissures. I suggested that a complete dissection would help. Their enthusiasm inspired me to turn to Phil (my boss): he had extensive experience in the removal of arteriovenous malformations of the corpus callosum. He suggested that we practice in the morgue five or six times. By the end of the summer (during which I again worked as a neurosurgeon), we confidently mastered the technique of the operation. In conversations with Sperry, I emphasized that this is a unique opportunity to test the results of his experiments with cats and monkeys in humans and that his line of research was extremely important. He mentioned that a student, who is about to graduate from Dartmouth College, spent the previous summer in the laboratory and would be delighted to test a person. Mike Gazzaniga began his graduate work in September and, Sperry said, was eager to test a human test subject. We soon became friends and began to plan experiments together.
cops to be done before and after the operation. There was a short delay before her, during which Bill was tested in Sperry's lab. During this delay, we also had the opportunity to document Bill's multiple seizures in sufficient detail and detail.
It was during the preoperative testing period when Bill said, "You know, even if the operation does not help to relieve my seizures, but you will learn something new from it, it will be more beneficial than anything I have done in years."
He was operated on in February 1962. In retrospect, I think that if there had been a research committee in our hospital at that time, the approval of its members would have been required for any procedure, this operation would never have been done. At that time, the head of the department alone could make such a decision, which, I believe, was similar to the situation at the University of Rochester in the late 1930s. "
Science then and now
Then, in 1961, life was simple. Or so it seems now. It was a time when people would go to college, study hard, go to graduate school or graduate school, get an advanced degree, become postdocs, take a paid position, then become professors at some institute. They lived their lives pursuing their intellectual interests. Today, career paths are not so clearly defined and more and more postdocs are leaving for industry, educational activities, start-ups, foreign research organizations, and so on. Many have colleagues who have come from abroad or have spent some time there. This is all fine too, but it differs from the previous order and, in a social sense, is more complexly arranged.
In the early 1960s, some aspects of biology also seemed deceptively simple. Watson and Crick made their groundbreaking discovery of the structure of DNA and its role in heredity. By today's standards of molecular mechanisms, the model they built is simple. Genes produce proteins, and proteins then perform all kinds of bodily functions. One or two - and here you have a complete mechanism. It became known as the Central Dogma. Information moved in one direction - from DNA to proteins, which then gave instructions to the body. Today, however, there are already serious disagreements even about what to call a genome, and even more so about how many different interactions exist between molecules that are believed to be links in a certain causal chain. To further complicate the picture, we add, that information goes in both directions: what is generated, in turn, affects how it is formed. The molecular aspects of life reflect a complex system based on feedback loops and multiple interactions - there is nothing linear or simple about it.
In the early days of modern brain science, discussions were conducted in unpretentious terms. Neuron A sent a signal to neuron B, and that to neuron B. Information was transmitted along a chain and somehow gradually transformed from sensations from sensory systems into actions, under the influence of external reinforcements. Today, such a simplified description of how the brain works looks ridiculous. The interactions of various brain networks are as complex as the interactions of their constituent molecules. The construction of a scheme for their work is almost paralyzing in its complexity. It is good that we did not realize this then, otherwise no one would have dared to take on this work.
Looking back at those early years, I think that the study of the split brain in humans played into the hands of the most naive of the researchers - me. I didn't know anything.
I was just trying to figure out the problem using my own vocabulary and my own simple logic. That was all I had besides endless energy. Ironically, the same was true for Sperry, the most advanced neuroscientist of his era. He had never worked with humans as test subjects before, so we pushed our way forward together.
In a sense, of course, we all understood that split-brain patients are patients with neurological disorders, and neurology was already an established field with a rich vocabulary. Joe was our guide through the minefield of technical terms. Evaluation of a patient with a stroke or degenerative disease has been well established and accurately described. The rich history of the first neurologists has brought us a wealth of information about which part of the brain is responsible for which cognitive functions. The 19th century giants of the profession, Paul Broca and John Hughlings Jackson, and their 20th century counterparts such as the neurosurgeon Wilder Penfield and Norman Geschwind, have all played important roles in the development of the medical perspective on how the brain works.
I still remember the day Joe came to Caltech from White Memorial Hospital to give a workshop in our lab. He described our first results using classic neurological terminology. Although it was not gibberish, it sounded like that to me, and I remember telling Joe and Sperry about it. Joe was very open-minded and consistently progressive. He simply told me, “Okay, describe it better,” and Sperry nodded in agreement. In the years that followed, we did this by developing in our first four articles a dictionary of scientific terms to describe what happens to people who have had their halves of the brain split.