#neuromyths

Belief in Neuromyths is Extremely Common

A survey has shown that many educators, and even those with neuroscience training, believe in neuromyths -- common misconceptions about the brain and learning.

Study Finds Over Half Of Participants Who Are Educators Believe In Neuromyths

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Growing up, you probably remember hearing a lot of common statements about how we learn and the way our brains work. You likely even still think of them as facts.

As a kid, I was always under the impression that we only use about 10 percent of our brains — in fact, I’m pretty sure one of my teachers told me this. What I didn’t know was that this is actually a neuromyth, or a…

To deferrer thinking to a higher authority has been speculated as a by-product of the human condition. Throughout history, we can see evidences of the unthinkable happening, as individuals decide to turn over their ability to think to another human being.  But all of this may be purely rhetorical sentiment that barters dangerously close to the territory of philosophy and behavioral sciences, rather than neuroscience. Why then, we must ask, does this matter at all to the field of neuroscience? After all, in the order of the human hierarchy, would not neuroscientists be above the common masses and thus exempt from the deferring thinking?  Contrary, it is precisely because we are at the neuroscientists that we need to address such human tendencies, with the intent to prevent neuroscience from being desecrated by fables that lead those who do not know to adopt as truth that which has not been vetted out through the practice of scientific research.

 I recently watched a piece on BBC about the global phenomenon known as Brain Games©.  In this piece, one of the founders of this program, educator and reading specialist Paul E. Dennison, was questioned about some of the controversial claims made by him of the neural effects resulting from use of the Brain Gym program.  For starter, I feel sorry for the guy. He was asked questions that were targeted to cut through the neuroscience padding that encased the program he designed… as he should be. I don’t feel sorry for him being asked these challenging questions; that should be what every individual does: critically thinks through information being served them to determine the validity and reliability of the claims.  Hard questions need to be asked. Questions that make the one answering uncomfortable and feeling challenged, because they are being challenged.  Challenged to vet out their own claims to prevent leading the masses in ways that are futile and do not produce the intended results. We should want to be challenged in this way, as well, as a sort of safeguard against being deceived by our own intellect.

 I believe Dennison when he states the claim that he wants to do good by helping children with his program.  However, Dennison, himself, identified where he erred in his way. In the BBC piece, he states that his neuroscience claims came from studies he read. Mr. Dennison did right by researching studies, however, he failed to vet out these studies, and instead deferred his thinking to those who possessed knowledge in areas he did not. I, personally, am taking a note from Mr. Dennison. We all will encounter those who are above us in intellect in some area (even neuroscientist). Let’s not adopt as truth, that which has not been thoroughly investigated, let’s ask the challenging questions, and take personal responsibility for the information we deliver to others. We will be doing our field a service by keeping neuroscience as a respected source of truth.

Can neuroscience give us answers? It can give us some, but not many and not final. Neuroscience, a baby among other sciences, has a bulk to offer, but it’s still in its infancy. So, let’s all repeat after good ol’ Marcus Aurelius: “Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth”. But the problem is, we love final answers, almost as much as we love simple solutions. Wouldn’t it be nice to get a ready-made recipe to keep at bay angry teenagers during a science lesson? What if someone told you, you should look in the brain, where all the answers lie? Tempted, I would certainly look. So do other teachers: when asked if neuroscience should be applied in their school practice, chorally answered – “yes, please”.

However, this question appears easier than it really is, even though it potentially sounds like common sense. Because, when it comes to actual practice, there seem to be much too many misconceptions somehow difficult to root out fro our biased heads. The seed has been implanted though, so let’s investigate some reasons for our tendency to love neuroscience, and why we use it wrong.

The alluring aura of neuroscientific evidence (evidence)

There was an experiment, in which pieces of information were given to assess by two groups of people: experts and non-experts. Both groups were then asked to state their satisfaction with given explanations. The trick was, that some of them were interwoven with completely irrelevant neuroscience. And guess what? The public loved it! They preferred even the very rubbish information when peppered with some juicy neuro-facts.

Maybe it’s because of the abstract level? Maybe we fear our intelligence to be ridiculed when faced with stuff we don’t comprehend? Maybe it all comes to our tragically low self-esteem? Think about the quantum physics. Only a handful of people really understand, what’s going on there. Would you dare to argue with any of them? And even further: would you dare to ask specific, technical questions?

Teachers may feel intimidated, because of the social pressure put upon them, the over-generalisation, the very traditional assumption that “teachers teach, hence they know”. As a teacher, I should know about my students’ brains. But I don’t, so let me pretend I do. And even more: I’ll scream I do, so no one dares to check me on it. So I scream, loudly and firmly. Sometimes pressing fiercely too many buttons at once, only to sneakily cover up my vast incompetence. And you’d better go to check on these collar buttons of yours, would ya, and brain your gym to make your electric circuits flow.

The biases, we all intrinsically (intrinsically) suffer from

Those millions and billions of biases that intrude the clarity of our thinking, are usually hidden, and usually, we deny to admit they exist. For example, a common one, the cognitive dissonance, when we hold two conflicting ideas, and in order to get back to the homeostatic state of balanced mind, we unconsciously dismiss one, just because. I smoke, but I know I shouldn’t because of cancer. But I really like smoking, so I’ll dismiss the second part of the previous sentence, vigorously convincing myself (even though wrongly), others get cancer, not me. And that’ll let me smoke in peace, not having to confront the conflicted mind.

The curse of knowledge is another one. When it’s difficult for us to understand the understanding level of other people. There is no coming back from the place where we know much ourselves. Hence, we have trouble with understanding how people who know less than we do, misunderstand what we already know. Say, I know what “dopamine pathway” is, so I assume people in general know as much as I know about it because it’s hard for me to see dopamine pathway now with limited understanding and empathise with them. Their shoes don’t fit me to wear back again. Neuroscientists can’t see what educators don’t see, and here where the language issues come to play, creating havoc and semantic chaos.

And finally, my personal favourite, the self-fulfilling prophecy (or placebo effect). If I believe something is to happen, it’ll happen, because I unconsciously do all the small things that eventually lead to it, basically just to prove my initial point. Neuroscience is sexy and I want to include it in my educational practice. I found this amazing idea online the other day, about the collar buttons that make me more clever when massaged regularly. I’ll practice this, and because I want it to work, because that’d mean I’m smart and I’m using sexy science, I’ll make it work by convincing myself it works. See, I’m already more clever! We like to be right, and we like to know.

Our natural thirst for the final answers

If feels safe. It feels right because our brains are “the meaning-making machines”. And we need answers to build our narratives. To make sense of the world, we need a stable set of facts that we feel comfortable enough with – no matter if they’re scientific considerations or our personal beliefs. We just need anything to get by, as the uncertainty makes us existentially anxious. Don’t get me wrong, I can see how claiming this, I am the very person doing exactly that, that’s a never-ending trap of an inquiring mind, isn’t it? I claim we need the explanation, the final truth, “the really real” – and by saying that, I am stating the very mine, personal explanation. Basing my life and reality onto this generalisation, I am also proving my point. Shooting myself in the ankle, but that’s okay, because as a post-modernist, I accept contradictions. And another one. Thank you Philosophy, you’ve always been helpful to make my mind nice and clear.

We want neuroscience to be a part of education as it has a potential for a positive change in our approach to teaching and learning, and to all there is to wonder about in the classroom. However, at the moment, there is much too many gaps, misconceptions and myths we believe to be true, only because it’s convenient or easier, or because we’re not informed enough, or because we simply don’t know (yet). Some neuroscientists have even made a declaration about it, officially agreeing that: “neuroscientific research, at this stage in its development, does not offer scientific guidelines for policy, practice, or parenting”. And then, further comments in the editorial article of the Santiago conference in 2007, during which the paper has been signed, stated that: “brain research was not ready to relate neuronal processes to classroom outcomes”.

What is the problem with teaching? Is it lacking the scientific basis? Would the simple answer – “yes, it does” – not be narrowing down the whole picture? Maybe we should give teachers some more credit and respect their intelligence. We witness the times when brain and mind become one, where to understand one, we inevitably need the other. Neurons would be nothing if they didn’t make you move your arm, neuroscience would be an empty concept (stop the blasphemy, Paulina!) without its empirical consequences in the behaviour. Neuroscientists could learn about the behaviour as much as teachers about the brains. I believe this beautiful and potentially fruitful exchange will eventually happen, and let me add it to my wishful thinking list.

Welcome in my space of expressing inexpressible, where stories are told and history made. If you’re here, it’s probably because a) you’re into education but with the thirst for more, b) you’re my friend and I forced you to read it. Here, I’ll talk lots about myths, and why people are so likely to blindly believe them. At the same time claiming my opinions to be reliable enough for you to read it. So yes, I mean, either way, you’re in a right place.