I finished Descartes Bones: A Skeletal History of the Conflict Between Faith and Reason by Russell Shorto on the same day that I banged heads with my standard poodle Dudley. I was left dazed and my eyebrow swollen and bloodied. From Dudley, I mean, but the book and bump left me thinking of Phineas Gage.
Back in 1848, Gage was tamping gunpowder into rock when the explosive ignited, sending all 3-feet and 7-inches of tamping rod through his left cheek and out the top of his head (children, don’t try this at home). Gage was taken to a doctor, where he coughed out some brain (honest) and set to healing. He lived another eleven years.
Gage probably hacked up his left frontal lobe, a portion of the brain that is involved with personality and behavior. Friends soon described him as “no longer Gage,” meaning amiable Phineas was replaced by unmannered Gage, though he did appear to improve over time. The case got 19th-century thinkers pondering if brain functions were localized. They are, and so Gage became a fixture in the obscure curricula of neurology.
Just as the saga of Descartes’ skeletal remains are a metaphor for the debate over dualism, so Gage becomes a metaphor for the popularization of neurology. In Descartes case, his skull was stolen. It became separated from the rest of his remains, eerily paralleling dualism’s mind-body split.
In neurology, the last decade has been an explosion of discovery. The next will prove even more mind expanding. Just one example: Henry Markram, Director of the Project Blue Brain reports today that “we are 10 Years Away From a Functioning Artificial Human Brain.” It blows the top off, so to speak, of what was known before, creating popular layperson interest—like with this blog.
Thus, it only seems fateful and fitting, that collectors Jack and Beverly Wilgus discovered this year, and announced just this month, that they possess the first ever verified photographic image of Gage (above). The birth of neurology now has a face.
I’m not sure what you can take from this vis-à-vis branding and marketing. I just love the story and the metaphor. I’m still trying to discover, though, if my tête-à-tête with Dudley might mean more than met the eye.
Engaging the Head
The Explosion of Neurological Knowledge
I finished Descartes Bones: A Skeletal History of the Conflict Between Faith and Reason by Russell Shorto on the same day that I banged heads with my standard poodle Dudley. I was left dazed and my eyebrow swollen and bloodied. From Dudley, I mean, but the book and bump left me thinking of Phineas Gage.
Back in 1848, Gage was tamping gunpowder into rock when the explosive ignited, sending all 3-feet and 7-inches of tamping rod through his left cheek and out the top of his head (children, don’t try this at home). Gage was taken to a doctor, where he coughed out some brain (honest) and set to healing. He lived another eleven years.
Gage probably hacked up his left frontal lobe, a portion of the brain that is involved with personality and behavior. Friends soon described him as “no longer Gage,” meaning amiable Phineas was replaced by unmannered Gage, though he did appear to improve over time. The case got 19th-century thinkers pondering if brain functions were localized. They are, and so Gage became a fixture in the obscure curricula of neurology.
Just as the saga of Descartes’ skeletal remains are a metaphor for the debate over dualism, so Gage becomes a metaphor for the popularization of neurology. In Descartes case, his skull was stolen. It became separated from the rest of his remains, eerily paralleling dualism’s mind-body split.
In neurology, the last decade has been an explosion of discovery. The next will prove even more mind expanding. Just one example: Henry Markram, Director of the Project Blue Brain reports today that “we are 10 Years Away From a Functioning Artificial Human Brain.” It blows the top off, so to speak, of what was known before, creating popular layperson interest—like with this blog.
Thus, it only seems fateful and fitting, that collectors Jack and Beverly Wilgus discovered this year, and announced just this month, that they possess the first ever verified photographic image of Gage (above). The birth of neurology now has a face.
I’m not sure what you can take from this vis-à-vis branding and marketing. I just love the story and the metaphor. I’m still trying to discover, though, if my tête-à-tête with Dudley might mean more than met the eye.