The brain behind politics

With the upcoming elections in the Netherlands, our craving for polls is on the rise again. As Dutch people very well know, we can be very good with polls although the final outcome is usually completely unrelated to the outcomes of the polls. What's more, even if the polls manage to get it right, it doesn't tell us much about who's actually going to lead our country, as the political structure in The Netherlands is such that winning doesn't automatically mean you're in.

As a Dutch voter who lives abroad, I am one of the lucky few who already got to vote before all the debates even got started. This doesn't matter, since the debates don't really add to my knowledge or help in my decision making process anyway. Politicians often go after the easy catch, and put up a great act of being indignant of their opponents choices and ideas, when they might in fact have acted on those very same ideas when they were in charge of our country. That aside, being able to vote for the political party of my choice is a precious right, which I will exercise even if it means having to look my kids' red pencil for half an hour, or trying to figure out how to refold the paper in such a way that my choice doesn't show. Because an absence of red markings or a wrong fold means your vote is out.

But to the point now. While browsing for information on an upcoming column about the advances in Neuroscience as related to psychiatric diagnoses, I found an interesting article related to voting. The research used fMRI to reveal specific brain activity in swing voters upon showing images and video clips of possible presidential candidates for the US elections of 2008. A short recap of some of their noteworthy conclusions:

Hillary Clinton produced mixed emotions in voters who didn't really take a liking to her. Apparently, although they stated they didn't like her, their brain activity showed they had some difficulty making up their mind (or brain in this case). For Mitt Romney, the initial results were more clear cut. Upon being showed a picture of Mitt, subjects showed high levels of activity in the amygdala, a brain structure related to anxiety (as stated in the article). However, after watching a snippet on him performing in public, the activity in the amygdala died out. Apparently, the subjects found Mitt to be harmless after all. As for Barack Obama, he just didn't sparkle much of anything in the subjects' brain...

Knowing the outcome of the 2008 elections, it doesn't take a brainiac to figure out that the described research, although highly entertaining, doesn't really add up. That is because, next to design issues such as sample size and background factors of the subjects, some alternative explanations weren't explored.

For instance, it might have been that people watching Hillary Clinton were simply contemplating the difficult decision between their desire to want to punch the dear woman in the face, or yell profanities. Or, a slightly more feasible hypothesis, that they simply didn't know whether they should cut her some slack because of her husband's little slip-up (remember Monica) or judge her solely on the basis of her political ideas. Concerning the results of Mitt Romney, the researchers kind of left out some of the other functions of the amygdala. Because although involved in anxiety (and anger), the amygdala is also related to, yes, pleasure. Whether it be the consequence of him having five children or simply his good looks, it could be that the subjects actually took a fancy to dear ol'Mitt. The subsequent decline in activity might then be explained as the result of him found lacking when seen in action. And do I even need to go into the results of Barack Obama, who might not have been the cause of any peaks in the brain but who did manage to peak in the election?

So, what can we learn from all this? We simply do not know enough of our brains yet to come to any definite conclusions between specific brain activity and behavior. Neuroscience is interesting and definitely deserves our further attention as a way of understanding our behavior (and behavior problems), however, we do need to be careful as to the conclusions we draw based on fMRI research. After all, if it shows that even dead salmons contemplate the emotions of people..

Big Questions for a little brain

Lucas has recently started to ask the Big questions. And whereas some children start relatively small and ease into it, Lucas would not have been Lucas if he would follow such a pathway. Hís first Big question was this: "Zijn tomaten nou fruit of groente?" (Is a tomato a kind of fruit or a vegetable?).
Now, I can deal with difficult questions, but unfortunately his need for answers is not easily met. For example, concerning the extinction of dinosaurs, he's less than happy to find out that scientists do not have a definite answer as of yet. He keeps pressing me for information, as according to him, I must know more. "Nee mama, jij moet meer vertellen." "Jij weet het wél." (No mommy, you have to tell me more. You dó know). One of my solutions to this is to ask him what he thinks. So, let it be known that a moon fell on earth and killed all dinosaurs. Also, tomatoes are a fruit, and baby's are born through your belly button, which hurts, but only for a second. Just thought I'd share the answers to Lucas' Life Questions with you.

With this in mind, I remembered an old poem I once wrote. On occasion, Lucas is having monster nightmares, and recently he wondered why mommy and daddy get to sleep together, whereas he had to sleep all alone.

Monsters

Mam zegt dat monsters niet bestaan,
maar hoe weet zij dat nou?
Als ze mijn kamer binnenkomt, verdwijnen ze heel gauw.
Ze springen in de kasten,
en laden bovendien.
Ze laten niets meer van zich horen, laten zich niet zien.
Totdat ze me een kusje geeft,
en weer naar papa gaat,
dan komen ze tevoorschijn, en worden heel erg kwaad.
Nee, papa heeft maar geluk,
dat mama bij hem ligt.
Bij hem zijn kasten werk'lijk leeg en blijven laden dicht.

The Stairmaster: mastering the stairs

I've started training at the YMCA recently. I must say I am close to getting addicted to my workouts. Not in the least because they have absolutely everything there: I can choose an infinite number of interesting workouts, I don't need to take towels or drinks, I can watch television on virtually all the fitness equipment, I can bring the children to their free daycare, and I am met by nice instructors who in no way resemble a soldier, a construction worker, a cowboy or some other sort of Village idiot. And contrary to Dutch standards, the gym here is not full of young men flinching their muscles in an attempt to pick up the unnatural blonde on the elliptical who - next to her perfect body - apparently also suffers from a lack of sweat glands. Instead, the Y is filled with older people, some even quite old. And it is endearing to watch an oldie take up to ten minutes to get up on the treadmill, only to see their walking sticks fall of the minute they start walking. Needless to say, I help out on these occasions.

Because it's always good to incorporate new routines in your workout program, I make a habit out of trying new equipment. But until recently, I was hesitant to use the Stairmaster, an apparatus that requires you to walk an endless staircase. It is, by all standards, the worst fitness apparatus ever, a fate worse than Hell. But in an attempt to conquer my fears, this week I finally went to Hell and back, taking the stairs to what the apparatus said was the 48th floor in a 15-minute-feels-like-15-hours perish-and-die moment. And to make matters worse, instead of feeling invigorated after my workout, it left me confused. Because did I actually walk up to the 48th floor, or should I take into consideration the fact that the United States usually calls ground level 'first floor'? Because that would mean that I only walked up to the 47th floor. It might seem insignificant to you, but if I ever want to partake in the 'stairs run competition' in the Erasmusgebouw in Nijmegen, I need to know my limits. I guess I have to conquer Hell again in another session of the Stairmaster. Stay tuned for Stairmaster: the sequel.

O, and you must agree with me that there is some irony in the fact that Lucas refers to the daycare at the Y as 'de sportschool'? He'll start his own workout routine soon though, as swimming lessons will commence in spring and he really wants to play soccer there as well.

The presents or presence of a Theory of Mind

During my years as a Ph.D. student I have been reading (and writing) about Theory of Mind, aka the ability to attribute mental states (desires, beliefs and feelings) to oneself and others, an ability which seems to be lacking in many children with autism spectrum disorders. I'm not a huge fan of the Theory of Mind concept, as it is ill defined and ever expanding. In addition, many of the so called Theory of Mind tasks seem to hinge on language abilities as much as a Theory of Mind. And although there have been some successes to test Theory of Mind abilities in apes, Theory of Mind and language seem connected on many levels.

But this week I saw the rudimentary workings of the infamous Theory of Mind in my eldest son Lucas (3 yrs). He knows his birthday is coming up in about two months, and his little brother will have his a mere three days later. But way before that, my husband will turn.... well, that isn't really important for this story. So, I asked Lucas what he thought his dad would like to get as a present. He came up with.... a frog. Yes, a frog. No, no clue. My husband is not particularly interested in frogs, we don't keep any frogs or plan to do so in the near future, and Lucas has never displayed an avid interest in them either. So, to understand his trail of thought, I asked whether he could come up with another present. Some serious thinking happened, after which he was absolutely sure of the complete and utter bliss of his dad  if he got some bones. But not just any bones, T-rex bones. No question marks about the nature of that idea, since Lucas is very interested into that himself. But he didn't take another round of questioning as his final resolve was a bunch of flowers. Typical male instinct kicking in there, probably.

So how does this prove his developing Theory of Mind? It doesn't. But you know what, even I am unable to come up with a decent idea for my husband. So, instead we contemplated presents for his baby brother Kwint. And it didn't take Lucas long to come up with two ideas: penguins and cars. Spot on, and to his credit, Lucas does like penguins, but it's Kwint who's seriously obsessed with them. So, there you have it, Lucas has a Theory of Mind, and a diagnosis of autism is getting more unlikely every day. 

Kwint, on the other hand, is a different story. At a regular visit to the pediatrician (the American consultatiebureau), some eyebrows were raised on the subject of him not using the pronouns 'I' or 'me'. Never mind the pediatrician used a schedule for children aged 2, or the fact that Kwint is having to cope with the challenge of being raised bilingual, or even the fact that he does say words as 'mine' and doesn't meet any other criteria that would merit concerns for a possible developmental disorder. She offered us the opportunity to fill out a huge questionnaire which would be checked by specialists to see if there would be any reason for further checkups. We respectfully declined and went home only to find that the Dutch Van Wiechenschema (used at the Dutch consultatiebureau) considers it a skill for 2,5 year-olds. There still is time...