The Far Shores of Neurofeedback
by Jim Robbins
Excerpted from A Symphony in the Brain: The Evolution of the New Brain
Wave Feedback by Jim Robbins, Grove/Atlantic, Inc.. Copyright 2000
by Jim Robbins. Reprinted with permission. For more information, see
www.symphonyinthebrain.com. This excerpt first appeared in Cerebrum:
The Dana Forum on Brain Science, Vol. 2, No. 3, Summer 2002 (www.dana.org).
Author's Introduction for Cerebrum
When I first heard there was a new kind of biofeedback that allowed
people to make their brains stronger, I was taken aback. Wasn't biofeedback
something that came and went in the 1960s and '70s? I had never tried
it, but I associated it vaguely with the Seventies, the counterculture,
and Transcendental Meditation. The field had a pejorative, New Age
whiff about it. Add the word "brainwave," and it sounded
even wackier. Yet I was hearing interesting things about it, and I
have always believed that the mind and brain are the last great frontier.
I was also battling a case of chronic fatigue syndrome, and had exhausted
the traditional medical route. So I sold an editor on a magazine story
and traveled to Santa Fe to test what is known as "neurofeedback."
Brainwave training is a relatively straightforward process, almost
more difficult to explain than to do. It is based on a principle from
the behavioral school of psychology, dominant in the 1960s and 1970s,
called "operant conditioning of autonomic responses." The
idea is that, with the right information, physiological functions thought
to be "automatic" can be brought under conscious control.
This began with teaching lab rats, and later people, to control their
heart rate by rewarding them with a softly beeping tone when they achieved
their goal. Later, scientists discovered that you could teach people
to vary their brainwaves, at will, if they were given a reward--such
as a pleasant tone or beeping light. In the computer era, the reward
is performing well on a video game.
In brainwave training, a sensor that picks up brainwaves is placed
on the subject's scalp. That brainwave signal is amplified and fed
into a computer. When a subject is able to expand his normal frequency
range--measured in "hertz," a standard electrical unit--he
is rewarded with a Pac man that gobbles dots or a space ship that pulls
ahead in a race. When he cannot maintain the desired, or "healing," frequency,
he loses the video game. Most brains quickly learn to gain the desired
control.
After training for a half an hour on an instrument--two computers
and an amplifier --my mind was tired, my thoughts muddled. But an hour
or so after I finished I experienced what brainwave training aficionados
call the Clean Windshield Effect. The world looked sharp and crystalline,
and I had a quiet, energetic feeling that lasted a couple of hours.
It was the first time I had felt this way in years, and it convinced
me to look a little deeper. This new biofeedback was something very
different, I was told, a technique that can treat attention deficit
disorder and closed head injuries and depression and, according to
some, an incredibly long list of other problems.
Still, the claims being made for neurofeedback seemed far too good
to be true. If it is such a good thing, why hadn't I heard of it? Why
hadn't it swept its way into the health care system? But I have been
blessed with a healthy streak of cynicism, and I know, as a journalist,
that the systems that surround us--be it science, health care, government,
even journalism--function far less perfectly than is generally believed.
Things fall through the cracks, get over-looked and ignored. It was
no great leap for me to believe that something as far out of the conceptual
box as neurofeedback could have been missed. So I persisted, knowing
from experience that these oversights are where some of the best stories
dwell.
The Cats with Stronger Brains
I found that neurofeedback was born in a research laboratory at the
Sepulveda Veteran's Administration Hospital in the 1970s. Dr. M. Barry
Sterman, a psychologist at the University of California, Los Angeles,
was doing sleep research on cats. He noticed unusual rhythmic activity
in their electroencephalogram (EEG), an instrument that records electrical
activity of the brain. Specifically, over the cats' sensorimotor cortex,
he recorded 12 to 15 hertz rhythms. (The brain's rhythms are divided
into four basic categories. Delta, at 1 to 3 Hz, is sleep; theta, at
4 to 7 Hz, is the hypnogagic state, between sleep and deep relaxation;
alpha, at 8 to 12 Hz, is a deeply relaxed but aware state; and beta,
13 to around 30 Hz, is the state of being fully aware.) Sterman operantly
conditioned some cats to create this alpha frequency, so he could study
the way it affected their sleep.
Then, in one of those fortuitous accidents of science, he used those
same cats, along with fresh cats from the pound, in a different experiment.
He received a grant from the Defense Department to study the toxic
effects of rocket fuel. When he injected the cats with the fuel, he
found that their response followed a predictable course: They started
to pant, vocalize, and then go into seizures-except for the cats from
the operant conditioning experiment. They never experienced the seizures.
It took years to figure out why, but eventually Sterman discovered
that the cats he had taught to control their brainwaves had presumably
strengthened their brains and made themselves resistant to seizures,
findings that were replicated in other studies.
Sterman went on to do a series of experiments on human subjects who
suffered from epilepsy. He found that the technique greatly reduced
the number and severity of seizures. The training also seemed to positively
affect mood and reduce anxiety. He published his results in several
top journals. Joel Lubar, at the University of Tennessee at Knoxville,
replicated Sterman's work with epileptics and went on to do more than
20 years of research with attention deficit disorder (ADD) and hyperactivity.
With the promise of pharmaceuticals, funding for behavioral interventions
dried up, but several clinicians continued to use the technique--which
was boosted when computers came along in the 1980s--with great and
predictable success in thousands of cases. Now the use of neurofeedback
is growing, with more than 1,500 psychologists, counselors, primary
care physicians, neurologists, and psychiatrists using it to treat
ADD, depression, head injuries, and anxiety.
Some experts have criticized the "experimental" nature of
brainwave training and claimed that the evidence isn't there yet. But
to be fair it should be noted that the field of health care is crowded
with treatments that clinicians judge to be effective yet have not
been thoroughly researched. According to the Journal of the American
Medical Association, for example, the use of clonodine, a blood pressure
medication, as a treatment for behavioral disorders in children, grew
28-fold from 1991 to 1995 with virtually no studies on efficacy or
safety. The difference is that medication is something that doctors
are familiar with. While the same cannot be said about neurofeedback,
that is changing.
Brainwave training is an extremely young field and full of potential.
The instrumentation being used in clinics today was built on a shoestring
in basements, and there is a great deal of room for improvement. Virtual
reality, faster computers, better sensing technology, and other tools
are expected to enhance the efficacy.
It remains to be seen how far neurofeedback can be taken. But if the
hypothesis at the center of neurofeedback is true--that people can
be taught to operantly condition parts of their brain and by doing
so make it more robust--the notion of a designer brain may be something
that is accomplished not with drugs but with computers and "self
regulation." What the future might hold is the subject of this
excerpt.
The Far Shores of Neurofeedback
While neurofeedback is being used primarily as a tool for attention
deficit disorder, many in the field believe the technique has a far
broader--in fact, an unbelievably broad--application. It is also being
applied to treat depression, head injuries, anxiety, sleep disorders,
and a host of other neurological problems. And it is also being widely
used by athletes, performers, executives, and others who have no problem,
per se, but simply seek to enhance their performance: to increase their
memory and their cognitive abilities, to sleep sounder and wake more
refreshed, to play golf or the cello better, or simply to live a better,
more wide-awake life, an aspect of neurotherapy known as mental fitness
training or peak performance.
There is a great deal of controversy, as we have seen, within and
outside the field, over the kinds of claims being made for neurofeedback
in the areas that have little or no research to support them. But there
are coherent, predictable models that shed some light on how EEG biofeedback
might be working.
A big question is, what is happening to the brain as a result of the
training? One hypothesis has to do with the way the cells in the brain
connect with each other. Since information travels along the branch-like
connections between cells, called dendrites, the denser and greater
in number these connections are, the better the transfer of information.
As frequency is enhanced during a neurotherapy session and the brain
is activated, more blood than usual streams to that area of the brain,
the nutrients in the blood may be strengthening or reorganizing existing
connections. This is what many scientists think happens during any
learning process. (Brain scans show that after people go blind the
neurons that govern their Braille-reading finger become much more robust.)
Since every aspect of a person is driven by an assembly of neurons,
the healthier those neurons are, the healthier are the functions that
they govern.
Barry Sterman's studies showed some of those changes, and not just
in the brain; there were physiological changes from the top to the
bottom of the cats and monkeys he studied. "Very specific, measurable
changes," says Sterman. "In the brain cell firing patterns
changed and cells in the motor pathway reduced their rate of firing.
Circuit patterns changed. And we found changes in the body. Respiration
stabilized. Heart rate went down. Muscle tone in anti-gravity muscles
decreased. Reflexes diminished."
After Sterman left the field in the early 1980s others took up the
task of conceptualizing neurofeedback. There are numerous proposed
models; I have chosen the one outlined by neurofeedback pioneers Sue
and Siegfried Othmer, the owners of EEG Spectrum, (for which they have
borrowed freely from other places) because it is simple, has the greatest
scope, is the most unifying, is being used by a large number of people,
and is one they admit is constantly being revised according to what
they and their affiliates learn. It is not the only approach, nor is
it necessarily the best. Their nascent model holds that EEG biofeedback
can treat so many disparate problems because they are really just one
problem: disregulation of the brain. Since the brain is command central
and runs the show, according to their explanation, once connections
between neurons are strengthened, and the brain is running at the appropriate
speed, and stabilized, it can resist a myriad of problems better than
before the training. The Othmers reason that if "self-regulation" of
the brain can have dramatic, long-lived effects with epilepsy, one
of the most intransigent of all problems to treat, and bring about
an end to or reduction in violent seizures that have wracked a human
body, it is only logical that the principle of strengthening the brain
should apply to a wide range of conditions, some more profound, some
less. Why not try it, as long as medicine's first rule--Do no harm--is
kept in mind?
Viewed through the prism of neurotherapy, human beings do not suffer
an epidemic of depression, chronic pain, immune system dysfunction,
addictions, anxiety, or any one of a laundry list of other afflictions.
Instead, the epidemic is in hyperactive or worn-out nervous systems--buffeted
by birth perhaps, infancy and childhood certainly, by a culture that
encourages overwork and has created some of the most stressful places
on earth: modern cities. There are only three diagnoses under the Othmer
model: One, a person is so chronically over-aroused he or she cannot
relax, resulting in, for example, anxiety, agitation, impulsivity,
and anger. Two, a person may be chronically under-aroused, resulting
in some types of depression, lack of motivation, and spaciness. The
third principal diagnosis is brain instability. Using an automobile
analogy, the lug nuts on the wheels are loose and the front end is
wobbly. The driver can sometimes drive quite well, but suddenly the
car veers off in one direction or another, and there is little the
driver can do. Bipolar disorder (manic depression), migraines, pre-menstrual
syndrome (PMS), panic attacks, motor and vocal tics, vertigo, bruxism
(teeth grinding), epilepsy, and many others are all considered stability
problems.
Tossing Out the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual
In a sense, the model is a move back to a much simpler pre-molecular
time in neuroscience and to a much simpler time in psychology. The
Othmers have essentially thrown out most of the hundreds of diagnoses
in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, the encyclopedia
of all the psychological dysfunctions, and replaced them with just
three.
Nearly all health problems, this model holds, flow from over-arousal,
under-arousal, or instability in the central nervous system. With any
of the three conditions, the stressed-out brain and the rest of the
central nervous system are not robust enough to manage the body appropriately
and so render people susceptible to any condition to which they may
be predisposed: Joint pain flares up. They can't sleep. Or they sleep
too much. They get headaches. Panic attacks. Manic depression. Pain.
Depression. They are anxious. Nervous. Can't pay attention. Simply
treating a person for one of the three conditions can alleviate hundreds
of different and seemingly disparate problems. That is why with 20
sessions of neurofeedback in the same two sites, a patient often reports
that four or five symptoms diminish or disappear. The hundreds of traditional
diagnoses are simply farther downstream from the diagnosis of a stressed-out
central nervous system.
This iconoclastic view of mental illness received scientific support
recently. In October of 1999, Dr. Rodolfo Llinas, an eminent neuroscientist
at New York University, proposed a revolutionary new theory about seemingly
unrelated disorders. Speaking at a Society for Neuroscience meeting,
Dr. Llinas said that there are six layers of cells in the cortex, divided
into specialized regions, that allow movement, planning, speech, and
response to emotions. According to a description of his talk in The
New York Times, the sixth layer of cells provides connection to the
thalamus, which is the part of the brain that takes sensory information
and passes it on to the cortex. But the thalamus is more than a relay:
It is a generator with special cells that set the pace for the cortical
cells. They in turn feed information back to the thalamus. This loop
creates the symphony of the brain, coordinating actions, perceptions,
movements, and even consciousness.
Dr. Llinas studied patients with brain disorders and found that parts
of their thalamus seemed to be abnormally slow, even asleep. The critical
parts of the cortex that govern many aspects of a person are misfiring,
because there is no thalamic conductor to set their pace. Without proper
control by the thalamus, the cells in the cortex become overly excited.
Because the thalamus has many highly specialized regions, a whole host
of things can go wrong in a very small area. If one small area--perhaps
no bigger than a pinhead--of the thalamus is suffering a "brown
out," for example, then because it connects to the motor area
of the brain it causes the tremor of Parkinson's disease. Another small
area which is very close by connects to a different area of the cortex
and it causes the cells that govern pain to become excited, and so
the patient is in chronic pain. Dr. Llinas also cited some types of
depression, tinnitus, and obsessive compulsive disorder as problems
that may be caused by a thalamus and cortex that are out of phase.
The Othmers believe Llinas's model sheds light on the mechanism of
neurofeedback. They believe that when people train with neuro-feedback
they are training one end of that loop between thalamus and the cortex.
The changes made on the cortical end project back on the thalamus,
which is deep in the brain. "Changing the cortical rhythm changes
the rhythm of the thalamus," said Sue. "If the cortex slows
down the whole system slows down. The lower parts of the brain get
involved because the system is interconnected."
The most critical variable in the Othmers' model of higher-range training
is frequency. The general approach is the 12-to-15-hertz, or SMR, training
on the right side, which calms and enhances the emotional aspects and
relaxes physical tension, while 15-to-18-hertz training on the left
side helps improve attention and alertness. In 70 percent of the patients
the Othmers and their affiliates see, the approach is the same: The
left side needs to be brought up to the 15-to-18-hertz frequency, while
the right side needs to be calmed to 12 to 15 hertz. The reason, says
Sue Othmer, is that the left hemisphere organizes more localized function,
which requires higher frequencies, whereas the right hemisphere organizes
function more globally, which happens with lower frequencies.
While this is the general approach, each brain is different, and frequencies
are tailored to each individual's response. A recent change in the
Othmers' approach is where the electrode is placed on the brain. For
years neuro-therapists used only C-3 and C-4 sites, which are midway
between the top of the head and the ear on each side, and some still
insist that those tried-and-true sites are best. But the Othmers and
others have experimented with sites on the temporal lobe, an inch above
the ear on each side, for problems of stability, and they have proven
to be very effective. And they have combined their training on the
central parts of the brain with prefrontal and parietal sites to enhance
specific effects related to the function of those parts of the brain.
In other words, training right brain might bring up emotional aspects,
while adding FP-1 helps coordinate the emotional well-being with thinking
and planning, since FP-1 is over the prefrontal cortex, which governs
those issues.
Another variable is the hemisphere of the brain that these frequencies
are trained on. Management responsibilities are divided between the
two spheres of the human brain. If the left side is trained, a person
will see his or her analytical skills and sequential learning abilities
improve. If the right side is trained, the Othmers believe, it brings
up emotions and feelings, and even promotes intuition. The Othmers
believe that training the left or right cortex, the top layer, strengthens
the subcortical structures as well. For example, an overactive amygdala,
which causes fear and panic, and lies deep in the brain, is calmed
even by training the cortex. The training doesn't so much influence
the local area around the electrode, they say; rather, it influences
networks of brain communication.
There are a number of reasons the traditional medical model has so
many different diagnoses, according to the Othmers. One of them is
that there are usual genetic and environmental differences in people,
and disregulation can affect people in different ways. Another is that
disregulation happens along a continuum or spectrum. The mildly disregulated
brain manifests in ADD or anxiety; the more profoundly disregulated
brain may be autistic or suffer fetal alcohol syndrome. "The disregulation
model can restore simplicity to what has become a very cumbersome process
of diagnosis," says Sue.
"Embarrassingly Broad" Applications
The arousal model, the Othmers say, explains why our society is marinated
in brain-altering drugs, licit and illicit. Americans spend about $55
billion a year on legal drugs. Illicit drugs, as well as coffee, nicotine,
and alcohol, add billions more. Viewed from the point of view of many
of those who practice neurofeedback, most of those drugs are going
largely toward one purpose: to moderate the level of arousal. People
who are lower on the arousal curve drink coffee to get themselves up,
or if they are children, they may poke the kid in the seat next to
them to get some stimulating response; while those who are chronically
over-aroused move themselves lower with alcohol, for example, or with
something more powerful, a prescription drug such as Valium.
The notion that all mental illnesses are the same but occur along
a continuum of severity is actually an old idea. What changed that
notion was the advent of lithium, a naturally occurring element that
worked remarkably well for bipolar or manic depression but nothing
else. That view has been rendered an anomaly by a new class of drugs. "Prozac
went in the opposite direction," says Sue. "It was embarrassingly
broad in its application." It proves, she maintains, that the
hairsplitting of the diagnostic model is inadequate. She sees support
for her disregulation model and neurofeedback's sweeping approach in
the way psychotropics and other drugs are increasingly applied. Prozac,
for example, is used to treat not only depression, but also PMS, panic
anxiety, eating disorders, obsessive compulsive disorder, ADD, and
other problems. Anticonvulsants such as Tegretol, Dilantin, and Neurontin,
developed for seizure disorders, are being used for everything from
panic attacks to migraines, to chronic pain, to rage and borderline
personality disorders.
Many biofeedback practitioners have long advocated--but been widely
ignored--that simply prescribing drugs or performing surgeries to treat
symptoms is perhaps the greatest shortcoming of modern medicine. If
75 to 90 percent of the visits to primary care physicians are for stress-related
problems, allopathic medicine falls terribly short by not treating
stress. Giving someone a pill for depression or anxiety, it has been
said, and not dealing with the underlying problem, is akin to taking
a car that has a red trouble light glowing on the dashboard to a mechanic
who simply unhooks the light.
The EEG Spectrum model is a complete and, for a solid-state physicist
and a neurobiologist who never completed her Ph.D., seemingly arrogant
rewriting of the disease model. And they haven't just rewritten the
model, they have said myriad previously untreatable problems are fairly
easy to treat. Sue shrugs as if to say, "Can't help it, that's
the way it is." "The body has an incredible, innate sense
of healing, and neurotherapy exploits that," she says. "Once
the brain is shown the way and learns where it functions best, it will
stay there. It's all about the nervous system finding its own balance.
We're not changing it; we're allowing it to change itself. Acupuncture
does the same thing. If you give the brain a chance, it will do what
it needs to do and will heal itself. Neurofeedback allows the brain
to pause for an instant, and allows it to reset. And doing that is
an incredible thing to witness."
Among the people who treat clinically with neurofeedback, the conversations
are sometimes startling, almost beyond belief. I attended an EEG Spectrum
training seminar on neurofeedback in Seattle. As I listened to Sue
Othmer's portion of the talk, I couldn't believe my ears. Every half
hour as the lecture subject changed from one health problem to the
other, she would say, "Compulsive eating? That's one of the things
we do best," for example, or "Anger? That's fairly easy to
do," then she would tell which sites to train. During a break,
we had lunch in the hotel restaurant, where our waitress greeted us
with an extremely high-pitched Betty Boop voice. "SMR would bring
that down," Sue said offhandedly. "SMR's effect on relaxing
muscles can bring down the tone." It sounds almost preposterous,
even to people who understand neurofeedback. I brought that up to Sue. "After
a very short time you stop wondering whether this works," she
said, "and realize the challenge is how to optimize and manage
the powerful effects."
Still, it is tempting to agree with the criticism of the expansive
claims. In spite of the research, in spite of the testimonials, I probably
would have dismissed all of this and gone on to other things had I
not experienced it firsthand in a dramatic way. When I was doing research
for a Psychology Today story, I did about 15 sessions of C-3 beta,
C-4 SMR. (It is fairly easy to do. Spectrum shipped me a loaner instrument,
and with help over the phone, I set the equipment up and was able to
start doing sessions in just a few hours.) As I started to near my
eleventh half-hour session, I gradually noticed my energy level increasing.
My mood was more buoyant. I started sleeping more soundly. I started
waking up in the morning right away, without the usual attendant fogginess
and the urge for another cup of coffee. I could work much longer without
wearing out. The differences were dramatic. Yet I also felt this coldness
coming over me, a kind of emotional detachment that I found unpleasant.
I mentioned it to Sue. "Oh, too much left-side training," she
said, immediately. Sure enough, more right-side training "warmed
me up," as they say, as my emotional feelings started to return.
I started turning up the frequency on the right to avoid sleepiness--from
the window of 12 to 15 hertz, up half a hertz at a time. As I got up
in the 14-to-17 range, it amped me up something fierce, especially
right after I finished. I remember leaving the house after a session
and driving to the grocery store, and my internal monologue was chattering
away a mile a minute. Sue laughed when I called. "Too high," she
said. "Walk the frequency back down." I did, and it fixed
the problem.
Repairing the Criminal Brain
So neurofeedback is off and running, being used for all manner of
things. Perhaps the place where neurofeedback will make the most dramatic
difference, and where it already shows tantalizing promise, is in the
area of treating criminal behavior.
A growing body of evidence, made possible by a new generation of brain
imaging, shows that in many cases neurological damage is at least partially
responsible for criminal behavior, perhaps far more than we realize.
Dr. Dorothy Otnow Lewis is a psychiatrist at Bellevue Hospital in New
York and a professor at New York University School of Medicine who
has pursued the brain-crime link for years. She and Jonathan Pincus,
a neurologist at Georgetown University, have published a series of
groundbreaking studies that demonstrate a link between violent behavior
and damage to the brain from abuse and accidents. The relationship
began in 1976 when Lewis received a grant from the state of Connecticut
to examine one hundred juvenile delinquents. She strongly believed
that damage to the brain was responsible for delinquency and asked
Pincus to help her by giving each of the kids a neurological examination.
It was a defining moment for Pincus. At the time, he told The New Yorker
magazine in 1997, he thought there was no connection between neurology
and behavior. "After seeing the kids for himself," author
Malcolm Gladwell wrote, "Pincus, too, became convinced, that the
prevailing wisdom about juvenile delinquents--and, by extension, about
adult criminals--was wrong and that Lewis was right. 'Almost all the
violent ones were damaged,' Pincus recalls, shaking his head."
If neurofeedback can truly heal damaged parts of the brain that control
key functions, such as the prefrontal cortex, it would stand to reason
that some criminals should benefit from the technique. That was the
belief of Douglas A. Quirk, a Ph.D. psychologist at the Ontario Correctional
Institute near Toronto, who passed away a few years ago. He started
working with biofeedback in 1959, using galvanic skin response, alpha
brain wave training, and eventually Sterman's SMR protocol to treat
several hundred epileptics. For the last 20 years of his life, he treated
inmates at the correctional center. Quirk came to believe that certain
types of violent behavior originated in a kind of epileptic burst in
a deep part of the brain called the drive center. "If separate
parts of this area are stimulated electrically, the animal subject
responds as though it was experiencing rage, sexual arousal, hunger,
satiety, or pleasure reinforcement," Quirk wrote. "If electrical
stimulation of the drive center were to be achieved in ambulatory human
subjects, it seems possible that the results might include dangerous
or uncontrolled behavior; that is, acts unregulated by the usual organizing
effects of conscious cortical processing. Depending on the location
stimulated, the actions might include 'blind rages' (assaults, malicious
damage?), inappropriate sexual acts (sex offenses?), unexplained over
or under eating, or escalating violent or addictive behaviors…Nature
and accident have arranged for just such electrical stimulation in
some human subjects. These are people who are subject to deep-brain
epileptic events."
Seizures are, of course, where neurofeedback was born and where its
efficacy has best been demonstrated. Quirk identified 77 convicts who
he felt were victims of this kind of pathology, resulting from head
injury or abuse. He trained them using a varying number of sessions,
from none to 34 or more, using both galvanic skin response and SMR.
A year and a half after they got out of prison, Quirk found that those
who had received zero to four sessions had a 65 percent rate of re-arrests
for violent offenses, while those who received 34 or more sessions
had a 20 percent rate of recidivism.
Another approach to treating violent offenders involves a model of
emotional development known to professionals as attachment disorder,
a pathology that begins as soon as a child is born. For critical normal
development of the brain, an infant needs what some professionals call
a somatosensory bath and others call love--hugging, talking to, rocking,
cooing, holding, and other kinds of personal contact with a parent
or other care giver. Such affection apparently builds robust connections
between cells in the brain and establishes pathways, especially among
those that govern emotions. A deficiency in the appropriate contact
can cause emotional and even physical problems later in life. In one
study, brain scans of neglected children show that 20 percent of the
prefrontal cortex fails to develop properly. In another study of attachment,
a researcher brought in well-bonded babies. He separated infant and
mother in the same room and asked the mother not to respond to vocalizations
or other attempts to recruit the mother, and he filmed the results. "Within
thirty or forty seconds that baby is crying or anxious, showing all
the classic signs of anxiety," says Sebern Fisher, a therapist
who specializes in the treatment of attachment disorder with neurofeedback
in Northhampton, Massachusetts. "This is a baby that has reason
to believe that he's going to be responded to. Imagine that neglect
happens as the routine. What then happens to the baby? The arousal
system keeps cranking up, but there's no response. At some point the
organism can't stand it anymore. After three or four months it shuts
off. The light is gone. The yearning ends."
The child becomes numb physically or emotionally in the interest of
his or her own survival, and the extent of this numbness borders on
the unbelievable. Children with severe attachment disorder may be so
deadened physically they will break a bone and not realize it, or they
will eat until they throw up because they cannot tell when they are
full, or they will go out into bitter cold without a coat and get frostbite
and not know it. The emotional symptoms are even more troubling. They
are often sadistic and violent, torturing cats and starting fires and
visiting cold-blooded violence on other people. They are aggressive
and antisocial and have been dubbed "children without conscience." A
high proportion of them will go on to become criminals.
Fisher, who spent 12 years as the clinical director of a residential
home for severely disturbed children, believes neurofeedback is a powerful
way to intervene in this pathology. "With attachment disorder
there is not an adequate amount of right hemisphere development," says
Fisher, referring to the emotional, feeling side of the brain. "Postmortem
work or MRIs show that antisocials tend to have smaller right hemispheres,
while normals have slightly larger right hemispheres. The circuits
aren't live. There are fewer synapses that develop, less blood flow.
If the emotional apparatus doesn't come on line in that first year
[with the somatosensory bath], we don't have a technique--outside this
one--that I know of that can bring it on line." Fisher hooks up
and trains the right brain to stimulate the reestablishment of the
networks that regulate the emotions.
"You can start to get an empathic response if you train on the
right side, sometimes right away. If you train too much on the left
side, you get a cold, detached person, and their sense of attachment
is gone." The number of cases of attachment disorder treated is
no more than a handful, but changes seem dramatic. The changes are
physical as well as psychological, a profound illustration of the mind-body
connection.
A young woman from India, who had been raised in an orphanage, came
to see Fisher for such a problem. "I remember she was sitting
across from me at the mental hospital," says Fisher. "Sitting
is a loose term. She could not bear to be in her skin. She was on lithium
and an antianxiety agent. She was physiologically a mess. Every measure
for disregulation that EEG Spectrum puts out, she met. Everything.
ADD, constipation, incontinence, sleep. Every single measure. Physically
and emotionally. She was skating along on the top of nothingness, a
basket case in every way."
Within 30 sessions profound changes were happening. "She started
to warm up. Started making eye contact, having some internal awareness.
She started to have normal bowel movements. She had been constipated
for years. Her lithium dose dropped. She stopped drinking alcohol,
very fast." After more than 100 sessions of SMR training, Fisher
says, "everything dropped away. Her bipolar illness, her ADHD,
her PTSD, her alcoholism.
Seeking Peak Brain Performance
EEG biofeedback is even more controversial when the subject of autism,
fetal alcohol syndrome (FAS), and other similar types of brain damage
comes up. At most several dozen cases of autism have been treated with
neurofeedback, and many of them have turned around dramatically. Steve
Rothman, a psychologist in Bellevue, Washington, who leases neurofeedback
machines to people for home use, has treated six cases of autism and
sixteen cases of FAS. Eighty percent of his FAS patients have made
substantial gains, he says, and five of the six autism cases he treated
also showed dramatic, and apparently long-lasting, gains.
Rothman expects skepticism about such claims. But he says that results
he obtained are fully what he expected to happen. The things that parents
report "are extremely consistent with what we would expect to
happen with this technology," he says. "Better sleep. More
vocalization. Less shyness. You can predict outcomes with this model,
and for me that's a compelling argument for its efficacy."
While neurofeedback serves as a treatment for any number of problems,
it is also widely used by people who have no problem per se but simply
want to enhance normal function. A cross section of sports and other
high-performance professions are beginning to use the technique.
Rae Tattenbaum has an advanced peak performance program that utilizes
brain wave training in her office in West Hartford, Connecticut. A
clinical social worker, Tattenbaum worked for 10 years as a specialist
in the use of technology in education and health care for Northern
Telecom. She got so interested in neurofeedback that she quit her job
a few years ago to devote full time to it, combining it with her other
interest: singing.
Tattenbaum will treat anyone to optimize what he or she does, but
she specializes in training opera singers to enhance their performance,
and she is on the faculty of the Voice and Theater Department at the
Hartt School in West Hartford, Connecticut. Tattenbaum borrows from
several practitioners to create a treatment tapestry that clients say
works very well. She starts out with 20 sessions of SMR 12-to-15-hertz
training on the right side, which centers and relaxes a person and,
she says, strengthens the ability to be in the present, which keeps
performance anxiety down. Training 12 to 15 hertz keeps them more firmly
planted in that frequency and less likely to drift accidentally into
theta. "The theta range [the subconscious] is where the fear of
performance lies," Tattenbaum says. "That's where childhood
fears are. I don't let them go there. I keep the inhibit tight, to
keep them from drifting into theta. And because of that, they can focus
better on what they are doing." Because working on the right brain
causes a rise in emotional feelings, she says, the SMR brings up feelings
of empathy. "We're opening them up to be able to get in touch
with the passion of the song," she says.
One singer who benefited from the training is Robin Blauers, who also
teaches at Hartt. Thirty-five years old, she has been singing since
she was eight years old. "I noticed that I couldn't be present
as a performer," she says. "I used to feel that I was outside
myself, watching and judging. I could never fully be present. It's
like driving a car. You arrive at your destination but on automatic
pilot, and you don't remember driving there." A year of training,
she says, changed that. "I did a recital last July, and it was
the first time I really enjoyed myself because I was present in the
moment. The training gave me an overall sense of well-being that I
didn't have before, whether I am singing or at work. I can step back,
take a deep breath, and focus on things much better." She still
does the training, she says, and she loves it. "After an hour
of training, I feel like I just slept for twelve hours."
Professional golfer Ed Galvan says that neurofeedback dramatically
changed his golf game. The 40-year-old Galvan, of Alhambra, California,
is a self-confessed golf addict who started competitive play in 1987
and plays regularly in tournaments in Asia, Australia, and southern
California. The training has taken three strokes off his game, he says,
and was the reason that he was ranked in the top 20 in the southern
California section of the PGA of America. It hasn't changed his income
from golf, he says, which was $26,000 in 1998. But that doesn't matter. "It's
eliminated the head trips and taken my game to the next level," he
says. "I'm definitely much more relaxed. When you play golf, too
many thoughts come into your head--doubts about your skills or where
the troubles lies, a lake or out of bounds. What EEG [training] does
is develop the brain to maintain a thought for a longer period of time.
I can focus on the target line, where I want to hit the ball. It's
turning everything else off and being in that one line. It's a whole
new level of concentration. People say they are concentrating, but
I don't think most people know what concentration really is."
There are also a few of the old-time alpha guys--Jim Hardt and Adam
Crane among them--who insist that the early claims that alpha training
is a shortcut to the goal of transcendence and enlightenment are very
real.
"It's interesting that brain wave training--alpha in particular--can
get people off of drugs and alcohol, can replace depression with sadness
and joy, can open people's hearts with love," says Hardt. "But
the single reason I have tenaciously pursued this for over thirty years
is that it leads to transcendent experiences. In the early years, the
rate of profound spiritual experiences was somewhere between one in
ten or twenty. Occasionally, someone who was really ready would have
a profound experience. While that was exciting, it was also frustrating
because my mission was to bring this to everyone. As I've improved
the equipment and the protocols, now we have three out of five having
experiences like that."
Gift of the "Lost Tribe"
There are a host of low-tech things that can be integrated into neurofeedback
treatment. In April of 1999, for example, the results of a well-designed
study conducted at Harvard on 44 bipolar patients were released. In
addition to their regular medication they were given omega-3 fatty
acids-oil derived from fish. Omega-3 fatty acids are vital to proper
functioning of cell membranes. According to an article in the Washington
Post, the experimental group did so much better than the control group
that after four months the experiment was stopped mid-way and all of
the patients were given fish oil. It is the latest of several very
positive studies of the effects of specific types of fat on the brain.
Some clients who do neurofeedback training for bipolar or other problems
of stability, therefore, also take Omega-3, which is obtainable at
any health food store.
New diagnostics have already begun to hone the way neurofeedback is
applied. Now QEEG research shows that there are at least three or four
different subtypes of ADHD, for example, that have origins in different
parts of the brain. "That means we won't be treating all ADHD
the same," says Sterman. "The training will become much more
specific rather than training everyone the same." Joel Lubar,
meanwhile, is experimenting with something called LORETA, low resolution
electro-magnetic tomography, which, with the use of very fast computers,
will allow QEEGs to read the brain's deep cortical and subcortical
regions, and may allow the client to train those areas directly, rather
than indirectly through the cortex, which should make the protocol
much more powerful.
Is it possible? Has a forgotten, somewhat eccentric lost tribe of
biofeedback devotees been laboring away, beneath our noses, to develop
a powerful way to heal humankind of some of its most intractable social,
personal, and economic problems? Have we begun to harness the incredible
power of the human mind? Is the brain far, far more plastic than science
has proven? Can we use our will to change our biology, to get a personality
makeover? Is it this easy, this mechanical, to change the human brain,
to erase anxiety and fear and stress as if they were words written
on a chalkboard? Has brain wave training returned from a near-death
state to spark a true revolution of the mind and brain that will change
the whole game: our assumption about who we are, what we have to live
with, and who we have to be?
I don't know. I know that in my case brain wave training gave me back
a part of my life that chronic fatigue syndrome had taken away and
traditional medicine could not treat. Others tell similar stories.
But the true scope of brain wave training is a big question that remains
to be answered. "Research will tell us for whom it works and under
what conditions," says Chris Carroll.
Many in the business, however, believe neurofeedback will dramatically
change the landscape of health care. Moreover, the imprisoned right
brain could well throw off the shackles of the left, according to Siegfried
Othmer. "The last one hundred years has been the century of the
left hemisphere," he says, referring to its analytical, rational
nature. "It's put science in charge and the rest of us in awe
of it, and it defined for us the 'pinnacle of intellectual experience.'" And
it diminished the rest of human experience [feelings and emotion] by
comparison. It did it at the expense of the right brain. Neurofeedback
will help bring about the rise of the right hemisphere to effect a
rebalancing.
Biofeedback has been down the road of fantastic, miracle claims once
before, of course, in the 1970s. The difference this time is that there
are many more people practicing it, using much more sophisticated equipment,
getting replicable results and predictable changes. At the very least,
these results strongly suggest that the academic bias against behavioral
medicine in general and biofeedback in particular be dropped. The sullied
reputation that biofeedback got in the 1970s needs to be buried once
and for all and the technique honestly evaluated. The research is admittedly
thin, but the clinical outcome studies are overwhelming, and those,
combined with the predictability of the model, anecdotal information,
and the reputations of many of those involved, are extremely compelling.
There is precious little else to effectively treat the wide spectrum
of problems that neurofeedback purports to treat. Biofeedback needs
a second look. Research desperately needs to be funded.
One of the most exciting things of all is that the field is in its
infancy. Each of the neurofeedback pioneers has taught the brain, in
his or her own way, to play a piece of music. But no one has brought
all of the instruments and players and music together. That grand and
complicated and beautiful piece of music has yet to be played.
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