Baltimore Washington Psychoanalysts

 

Rat Mothering: 

An Example of the Interaction of Neuroscience and Psychoanalysis

By Michael Jasnow, PhD

 

When the editors of the Loop asked, several months ago, if I would be willing to write a brief article discussing the relationship between neuroscience and psychoanalysis, their request caught me in the act of helping set up our inter-disciplinary seminar for the coming year (October 2010). Barbara Novak, Graciela Steiger, and I were putting the finishing touches on the program, which, as luck would have it, will be an interdisciplinary conversation concerning the relationship between neuroscience, literature, and psychoanalysis. We have been fortunate in securing two eminent speakers: Joseph LeDoux and Siri Hustvedt. Dr. LeDoux is well known for his work elucidating fundamental aspects of the neuronal systems that generate and sustain affective experience (most especially fear).  His work has focused primarily on the role played by the amygdala and associated sub-cortical pathways.

 

Our second speaker is Siri Hustvedt. Our membership is, in all likelihood, less familiar with her work. She is, however, like Dr. LeDoux, eminent. Her reputation derives from her work as a novelist, poet, and essayist. She has a deep interest in and knowledge of psychoanalysis and neuroscience.

 

The third, and final, speaker is me.

 

Interest in, really, concern for, the relationship between psychoanalysis, neuroscience and the humanities dates to Freud himself. This is common knowledge.  Freuds effort to understand the relationship amongst these several realms was a vital spring which nourished his intellectual efforts his entire life.  Examination of the interplay between literature and psychoanalysis has been an ongoing enterprise with many practitioners and numerous branches throughout the course of the 20th century. However, meaningful investigation ( non-speculative and data based) of the relationship between neuroscience and psychoanalysis has had to wait. The latter third of the last century witnessed the birth of the broad spectrum discipline of cognitive neuroscience.  This is a transcendent pursuit. It unites the combined efforts of many disciplines including: cognitive psychology, developmental psychology, neuropsychology, traditional neuroscience, genetics and molecular biology. It takes advantage of the new and terrifying powers of neuroimaging and genetics in order to capture and synthesize our understanding of the relationship between neural systems and the whole organism as it moves through its (socially embedded ) life. 

 

Because cognitive neuroscience is now able to begin to address complex questions concerning meaningful aspects of the organism in context (not simply a stained preparation), it becomes a meaningful and non-trivial undertaking to link up the findings of such a neuroscience with psychoanalysis.  There is now no shortage of those workers trained in one or both disciplines who seek to hunt out points of contact between these realms. One has only to pick up an issue of Neuro-Psychoanalysis to see for oneself.   Psychoanalysts and scientists and scientists such as Solms, Bucci, and Panksepp are, if not quite household names, certainly well known in psychoanalytic circles.

 

In spite of this crowded field and the availability of many excellent explorations of the relationship between neuroscience and psychoanalysis, I did agree to write this brief note on the topic.  In spite of the energy with which points of contact between our field and neuroscience are now being pursued there are many problems which hinder a clear mapping out of the points of contact between the fields.  These are areas of potential difficulty which it will not be possible to take up in such a brief excursion. For example, as analysts, we can call on quite a few models of mind, even if we stay within a more-or-less classical ego-psychological structure. There are also what might be called epistemologic concerns that arise from coordinating data that arise from our clinical enterprise with the findings of the laboratory. Our work is confined in a necessarily exclusive manner to human beings, furthermore, and dependent  upon the verbal output of human beings. There are many people, I am aware of them primarily from the side of psychoanalysis, who vigorously object to any attempt to coordinate the fruits of analytic theory and practice with the findings of the biological sciences. Psychoanalysis lives at the convergence of the subjective and the objective. As Freud well knew, it is this Janus-like aspect of psychoanalysis that embodies its unique power and is, at the same time, its Achilles heel.

 

Nevertheless, in spite of the difficulties such an undertaking involves, it does seem supremely necessary to pay attention to the findings of neuroscience, particularly those aspects of neuroscience that help us to think more deeply about the template of the human organism. When we think as analysts, we use clinically grounded templates to help us understand the complex ways people engage the world. We think in terms of enduring mental structure, the matrix of internal and external experience, the dynamic unconscious, and conflict and response to internalized conflict as modes that guide the organism through life.

 

In the several pages that follow, I will put forth not a technical review of neuroscience; but, rather, I wish to bring forward a restricted sampling of ideas emerging from neuroscience: findings, ideas, implications that resonate with my own clinical experience; investigations and findings that I find personally engaging. Thus, the sampling that follows is meant to be evocative rather than instructive in a formal sense. No effort is made to be academically rigorous. Rather, what follows serves an iconic function. These iconic points of reference concern the impact of early mothering, the roots of resilience, and the plasticity of the central nervous system.

 

As analysts, we are raised up with the notion that certain forms of early experience exert a particular potency in determining human possibilities and outcomes. These types of experiences (again, the word templates comes to mind), in some non-trivial sense, go a long way in determining the individuals degrees of freedom. If we seek, therefore, an evocative correspondence, a sympathetic resonance, with neuroscience, we would do well to begin such an investigation by examining findings that emerge from the study of how variations in maternal behavior impact the development of the offspring.

 

Thus, for example, it is now well established that differences in rat mothering profoundly influence how rat progeny move through rat life. How will mother rats children come to manage stress and strain? Will they be resilient in the face of the challenges of life or will they be anxiety-ridden? It is also clear that the nature of rats mothering will influence, in a significant way, how clever or how dull her offspring will be.

 

In this literature, experimental outcomes are often induced through direct manipulation by the experimenter. For example, paradigms have been developed that involve separating the rat pup from the mother for varying intervals over the course of the first several weeks of life. Other paradigms involve examining outcomes related to subtle variations in naturally-occurring maternal rat behavior; such behaviors as frequency of licking and grooming and arched-back nursing.

 

What is among the most interesting of the outcomes of such studies is the finding that the effects of good-enough or, conversely, not-good-enough rat-mothering emerge along a number of dimensions when the rat has matured to adulthood. That is, the protective and positive influence of early rat mothering is seen once the offspring reach adulthood and face adult-size rat challenges.

 

For those interested in exploring this work in more detail, I suggest the work of Meaney et al. (1991), Yamazaki et al. (2005), and Weaver (2004). In general, one sees that the effective presence of the rat mother during a sensitive period encompassing the early days of rat life calibrates the rats adreno-cortical response to stress. This involves systems such as the hypothalamo-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis. Meaney (1991), for example, demonstrated that variations in the separation of the rat pup and maternal behavior upon reunion induced a series of alterations in adrenal-cortical-secretory patterns, hippocampal, glucocorticoid receptor concentrations, and hippocampal pathology and dysfunction.

 

As adults, those rats that received good enough handling as pups are significantly more resilient in the face of stress and strain than their non-handled brethren. Moreover, and no less important, these well-handled rats have better memories and can navigate an environmental threat more successfully than their less-handled rat brothers. It is well established that over-exposure to glucocorticoids in the hippocampus (a target site of glucocorticoids) has a corrosive effect upon hippocampal function. This, in turn, degrades the ability of the not-handled rats memory function. Good-enough rat mothering early in life, therefore, sets the stage for more robust tolerance of stress and improved memory function.

 

It is the case, and quite remarkable, that Meaney and others are able to establish an unbroken chain stretching from the observable event (the caring behavior of the good-enough rat mother) to large-scale, well-understood internal events (the workings of the HPA axis) and, thence, all the way down to the level of the gene and the molecule.

 

How is that? It turns out that the kisses of mother rat (kisses being broadly understood), affects the methylation status of a glucocorticoid receptor gene promoter in the hippocampus (Weaver, 2004). In effect, when mother rat licks her pup upon reunion, she not only makes contact with fur and skin, her licking strikes more deeply than that. She licks all the way down to the genome. In her good-enough mothering, she licks off the methyl molecule sitting tightly-bound on the gene. In this way, she sets the character, the reactivity, of this response system and, thus, the future course of her offsprings adult response to stress B a chain stretching, in some non-metaphoric fashion, from the mother to the molecule. This is also evocative and this, too, kindles our imagination. It enlarges our view of the power of a mothers kiss.

 

Here we find that we are witness to the workings, the gears and wheels, of epigenetics, that which lies on top of the gene. The term epigenetics refers to what we already know quite well; that is, that the genetic compliment of the individual cannot be tell whole story. More and more, we understand that to have a gene is one thing; but how the gene is deployed is quite another and, indeed, is the key thing. It what way are a given complement of genes turned on and turned off? What is the intensity with which such activation takes place?

 

If we take to heart the image of mother rats kisses lifting off the methyl cap of the gluco-corticoid receptor gene, it serves as a powerful beacon for us in our own endeavors. These findings tell us more about the deep and mysterious connections between what occurs externally, in the surrounding world, and what we experience as our own subjective reality. In this research on epigenetic outcomes of maternal behavior on the rat, we can recognize the echo of Winnicotts good enough mother. These investigations touch upon, and deepen our understanding of, the meaning of the holding environment and the impact of the holding environment upon the developing organism; concerns that we, as analysts take up daily in our own work.

Furthermore, variations in the holding environment, which may appear to the casual eye as subtle and immaterial, may exert a significant impact on outcomes (cf. Yamazaki).

 

We know very well from our clinical experience how variable people are in their ability to manage stress and strain. Some people are surprisingly resilient, others less so. In our consulting rooms, we tend mostly to see the latter; that is, the less so. As analysts, we make use of a number of concepts to help us understand the meaning of this less so state of affairs. In our own thinking and in our discussions with colleagues, we make use of concepts such as the ego strength, referring, generally, to the individuals ability to bind up and manage complex psychological forces at the intersection of the world and the individual. We explore how well able the person is to accurately assess whatever state of affairs they find themselves contending with. We wonder how well they can master the conscious and unconscious factors stimulated by the expectable exigencies of daily life. We note the range of automatically available defensive adaptations that the individual can bring to bear to regulate their internal reality, to minimize non-productive anxiety and dysphoric affect. In general, we expect that the healthier the individual, the greater the ego strength; the greater the individuals ability for flexible and adaptive encounters with what life deals out to them.

 

These common analytic ideas, resonate with an article in Science from July 31, 2009, wherein Eduardo Diaz-Ferreira and his colleagues published findings on the effects of chronic stress on frontal striatal structures in rats. It will be more efficient and undoubtedly an aid to clarity if I simply present the abstract of their findings:

 Chronic Stress Causes Frontal Striatal Reorganization and Affects Decision-Making

The ability to shift between different behavioral strategies is necessary for appropriate decision-making. Here, we show that chronic stress biases decision-making strategies affecting the ability of the stressed animal to perform actions on the basis of their consequences. Using two different operant tasks, we revealed that, in making choices, rats subjected to chronic stress became insensitive to changes in outcome value and resistant to change in action-outcome contingency. Furthermore, chronic stress caused opposing structural changes in the associative and sensory-motor corticostriatal circuits underlying these different behavioral strategies with atrophy of medial prefrontal cortex and the associative striatum and hypertrophy of the sensory-motor striatum. These data suggest that the relative advantage of circuits coursing through sensory-motor striatum observed after chronic stress leads to a bias in behavioral strategies toward habit. (p. 621)

 

Diaz-Ferreira tells us two new and important things. One of these new things is, for us, old and well-known. When rats are not stressed, they are adaptable and clever. They pay attention to the outcomes of their behavior. However, when rats are chronically stressed, they turn stupid. They resort to habit to meet challenge. They cease to pay attention to the efficacy of their own actions. They fall, in other words, into a rut. As analysts, we know this state of affairs all too well (however, not from rats, I presume). This is the new old thing that Diaz-Ferreira tells us.

 

The second, and truly new, piece of knowledge is found in the remarkable precision and specificity of these findings. Diaz-Ferreira and his colleagues are able to demonstrate clearly and elegantly that when chronically stressed, rat brains undergo significant alteration. A specific portion of the rat brain that supports flexible and adaptive problem-solving atrophies (the medial prefrontal cortex and the associated striatum). At the same time, that portion of the rat brain that supports habit expands (sensory motor striatum). It seems likely that those brain regions that support mental flexibility in rats support something similar in people.

 

The phenomena Diaz-Ferreira and his colleagues describe have the potential to increase our empathic understanding of what it means for a person to be less so. While it is, again, old news in our line of work that people, when stressed, regressively revert to ineffective modes of problem-solving, it is useful to understand that the neurological underpinnings of this rigidity can be pin-pointed, at least partially, with such a high degree of precision.

 

Taken to heart, such findings serve to support us in our work with that range of individuals who have been terribly traumatized by life; to use Scheingolds term, those who have suffered soul murder. It can be especially useful if, in our work with such individuals, we understand that we are undertaking a necessarily lengthy project that must involve, among other things, the reprogramming of important parts of neural architecture.

 

This leads us, finally, into thoughts concerning the plasticity of the nervous system. Here, I quote from the great Spanish neuro-scientist, Santiago Ramon y Cajal, from his treatise Degeneration and Regeneration of the Nervous System:

In adult centres, the nerve paths are something fixed, ended, immutable. Everything may die, nothing may be regenerated.

 

This notion, of the immutability of the nervous system, has met a fate identical to that of so many foundational truths that have served to orient entire fields. That is, we now know it is false. The human nervous system, it turns out, is neither fixed nor immutable. It is surprisingly plastic and dynamic. For example, Lowenstein and Parent (1999) described the persistence of dormant progenitor cells in the central nervous system of adult mammals. Under the proper conditions, these progenitor cells can develop into neurons and glia. They go on to describe a range of conditions, such as injury and illness, that can prompt neurogenesis.

 

Following this train of thought leads us to Eric Kandel, the winner of the2000 Nobel prize in medicine and physiology who published a special article in the American Journal of Psychiatry in 1999. He titled his essay, Biology in the Future of Psychoanalysis: A New Intellectual Framework for Psychiatry Revisited. (American Journal of Psychiatry. 156: pp. 505-524, April 1999). In brief, Kandels life work has investigated the alterations in the nervous system that underlie learning and memory. In this pursuit, he and his colleagues have described how the process of long-term potentiation modifies the strength of connections between neurons in the brain. These alterations, governed by essentially simple sets of rules, lay down the biological basis of learning and individuality (Scientific American. September 1992, pp. 79-86).

Kandel described his work directly in this way (quoting from his 1999 essay):

Long-lasting changes in mental functions involve alterations in gene expressions. Thus, in studying the specific changes that underlie specific mental states, normal as well as disturbed, we should also look for altered gene expression ... Animal studies of alterations in gene expression associated with learning indicate that such alterations are followed by changes in the pattern of connections between nerve cells, in some cases the growth and retraction of synaptic connections. (p. 24)

 

Kandel then goes on to state (and, here, quite to the point of our present excursion) that it is intriguing to think that, in so far as psychoanalysis is successful in bringing about persistent changes in attitudes, habits, and conscious and unconscious behavior, it does so by producing alterations in gene expression that produce structural changes in the brain. (p. 24)

 

I have described this essay only as an attempt at the evocative. No pretense is made to achieve a comprehensive view of the relationship between psychoanalysis and neuroscience nor do I lay any claim, in any strict sense, to academic rigor. But then, what is it that I mean to evoke in the reader? With this question in mind, it is perhaps useful to review what we have examined in the course of this brief survey. We have seen that the earliest forms of maternal care in a closely related species act to set the calibration for the major neuro-endocrine pathways responsible for the organisms management of stress and strain. We have seen that there is causal chain connecting good enough rat mothering with the lifting of the methyl molecule at the level of the gene. We have also looked into experiments detailing the neural consequences of chronic stress. These experiments demonstrate how stress leads the organism to favor habitual responses over adaptive responses to environmental challenge. Further, it is clear that there are associated alterations in brain structures underlying each type of behavioral bias. Those areas responsible for behavioral flexibility atrophy (shrink), while areas supporting a habit hypertrophy (enlarge).

Finally, we noted that the received wisdom of the ages is, predictably, wrong. The mammalian nervous system is not immutable but, rather, plastic and dynamic. It alters significantly in response to experience. The biology of the nervous system is bidirectionally attuned. Biology affects experience but, equally profound, experience exerts its own influence over biology. Nature and nurture do not exist in separate and static categories. There is only nature/nurture, the boundary is fluid and this is not a metaphor.

 

So, once again, the question arises what do I intend to evoke in the reader? To evoke has two major meanings. Both meanings hinge on the idea of summoning or calling forth. In current usage when we think of evocation, of evoking a response, we have in mind something that summons up a set of particular feelings or experiences. There is, however, a more ancient meaning, a meaning lying underneath this more modern sense. In this older usage, evoke means to call forth a demon or a spirit. As I muse over what we have just reviewed, I find that both senses of these meanings are called forth.

 

On the one hand, there is the unalloyed pleasure that comes with increased understanding. There can be no doubt the little we have reviewed, which stands in for the broad range, the cascade, of new knowledge that is the harvest of neuroscience, fills us with delight. Knowledge is power, and most of us take delight in the expansion of our sense of power (illusory or not).

 

On the other hand, I am also aware of darker and more complicated feelings, mournful feelings, stimulated by our review, feelings that are in tune with the antique meaning of evoke. While knowledge is certainly power, it is also the case that new knowledge displaces older wisdom. Our newfound understanding must, of necessity, shift the balance of our present understanding. As Yeats said, the center does not hold. Our reception of this new knowledge gleaned from neuroscience shifts psychoanalysis from the conceptual center.

 

Now, it will be said by many that psychoanalysis was long ago shoved out of the center of the sphere of organized human knowledge. None of us can find it too novel an experience to be pushed into an epistomological corner. But, as a psychoanalyst, a man with a sympathetic, yet not uncritical, relationship with psychoanalysis, I feel the shift in a not altogether welcome way. I find myself struggling to capture, in summary form, the more disquieting thoughts that have been evoked by our review.

 

It is certainly the case, in this 150th year of the publication of The Origin of Species, that there is no room left in any activity that aspires to remain in contact with science for special creation. The thread that plays out from mother rats kiss to the methyl molecule sitting on top of the gene will not permit it. We are compelled to continuity in our theories. All nontrivial aspects of our theory must fit within and be consistent with the findings of neuroscience. At the very least, they cannot contravene such findings. In some fashion it is metaphorical, yet nontrivial, that we are forced to obey a series of laws. Our understanding of the causes of human action and the nature of what is therapeutically mutative must obey these laws. But what laws? As an imaginative exercise I suggest that neuroscience compels us to acknowledge a law of primates. We are all primates, and this cannot count as too disturbing. But, as we can also see, we are also very like rats; so, we need, at least metaphorically, a law of rats. This, however, is not likely the endpoint and we probably also require a dizzying regress of such laws: a law of sea slugs, of corn, and, perhaps, of yeast.

 

These laws require us to acknowledge that any theory that seeks to make sense of humanity, of how we move through this world and how we experience the world we move through, cannot be anthropocentirc. Our theory cannot be constrained to the consulting room. In that case, it becomes simply another type of hermetic art.

 

In Beyond the Pleasure Principle, Freud (1920) wrote:

The deficiencies in our description would probably vanish if we were already in a position to replace the psychological terms with physiological or chemical ones... We may expect [physiology and chemistry] to give the most surprising information and we cannot guess what answers it will return in a few dozen a years of questions we have put to it. They may be of a kind that will blow away the whole of our artificial structure of hypothesis.

 

Freud was, of course, correct in his sense of what was to come. Any serious attempt to understand the implications of the findings of neuroscience (broadly understood) leads us to the point where the whole of our artificial structure of hypothesis is, indeed, blown away.Any attempt to construct psychoanalytic  theory that relies over much, too exclusively, on symbolic processes, on language, on meaning, as alone cannot, ultimately, meet the demands of the Law of Corn, Primates and Sea Slugs.

 

Yet, we also know and acknowledge that even after the whirlwind something survives. There is no time left to touch upon the handling of what survives, how psychoanalysis can address the questions put to it by neuroscience. It does seem to me, however, that, paradoxically, our understanding of language as an extra cortical organizer (to use Lurias term) and our understanding of the cognitive and neural aspects of the executive functions offers a useful pathway that can forge at least one of the necessary links to usefully anchor psychoanalysis to neuroscience. For example, Paul Grays close process approach lends itself to such an investigation. However, these musing have already gone on far too long and any further thoughts must await another occasion.

Citations to Neuroscience and Psychoanalysis Article for LOOP

Michael D. Jasnow, Ph.D.

 

Diaz-Ferreira, E., Sousa, J. C., Melo, I., Morgado, P., Mesquita, A. R., Cerqueira, J. J., Costa, R. M., Sousa, N. (July 2009) Chronic stress causes frontostriatal reorganization and affects decision-making. Science. 325 (5940), 621-625.

 

Freud, S. Beyond the Pleasure Principle. 1920. In Complete Psychological Works. Standard Edition. Volume 18. London, Hogarth Press. 1955. pp. 7-64.

 

Kandel, M.D., E. R. (1999). Biology and the future of psychoanalysis: A new intellectual framework for psychiatry revisited. American Journal of Psychiatry. 156, 505-524. (8 1999 American Psychiatric Association)

 

Kandel, E. R., Hawkins, R.D. (1992) The biological basis of learning and individuality. Scientific American. 267 (3), 52-61.

 

Meaney, M. J., Mitchell, J. B., Aitken, D. H., Bhatnagar, S.,  Bodnoff, S. R.,  Iny, L. J., Sarrieau, A. The effects of neo-natal handling on the development of the adrenocortical response to stress: Implications for neuropathology and cognitive deficits in later life. Psychoneuroendrocinology. 16 (1-3), 85-103.

 

Weaver, I.C., Cervoni, N., Champagne, F.A., D-Alessio), A.C., et al. (2004) Epigenetic programming by maternal behavior. Nature Neuroscience. 7 (8), 847-865.

 

Yamazaki, A., Ohtsuki, Y., Yoshihara, T., Homa, S., Honma, K-I. (2005). Maternal deprivation in neo-natal rats of different conditions affects growth rate, circadia clock, and stress responsiveness differentially. Physiology and Behavior. 86, 136-144.

 

y Cajal, S.R., & May, R.T. (Eds.). (1959) Degeneration and Regeneration of the Nervous System. (Vol. 11). New York: Hafner. (p. 750).

©2006 Baltimore Washington Center for Psychoanalysis