The Dalai Lama and Science

By Pippa Wysong

Much of October 2014 was suffused with a sense of unreality because of the unusual trip that was to happen near the end of the month. Hubby and I were to travel to Alabama where Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama was scheduled to appear. We would attend several events, meet the organizers and even get a chance to meet His Holiness in person.

During my career as a science writer, I’ve had the privilege to meet some extraordinary people. But there was something different about the chance to meet the Dalai Lama, even if it was for just a five-second grasping of hands with no real chance to talk one-on-one. This is someone who is truly a global figure, whose name and influence cross all cultures and sectors of society. A true thought-leader.

It all seemed bigger than life, and in fact the opportunity somehow felt surreal. I didn’t tell anyone that I was going or, until now, that I had gone. The invitation to these events came through a colleague of my husband’s who became personally acquainted with His Holiness while trying to start up a hospital in India.

Symposium poster. Photo by P. Wysong.

Knowing almost nothing about the history of the 14th Dalai Lama nor of his brand of Buddhism, the Gelug school, I felt unprepared and scrambled to read about him.

I learned several intriguing things. One is that the Dalai Lama is actually a science geek and has an insatiable thirst to learn about areas relating to cosmology, physics, neurology, genetics, and more. In fact, he regularly invites small groups of top scientists to visit his home in Dharamsala in northern India to discuss recent scientific findings and trends. Plus, he makes sure that the education monks get has strong science content.

He has said that if an explanation of the natural world in the Buddhist texts is proven to be incorrect through scientific evidence -- then those sections of the Buddhist texts should be updated to stay current and accurate. In one place, he phrases this as, “...in the Buddhist investigation of reality, at least in principle, empirical evidence should triumph over scriptural authority, no matter how deeply venerated a scripture may be.”

He is co-founder of the Mind and Life Institute, a non-profit organization dedicated to exploring relationships between modern sciences, philosophy, the humanities and social sciences. A goal is to explore the effects of contemplative-based practices (such as meditation) on the brain and human biology and behaviour.

This brings us to Alabama, where the University of Alabama (UAB) hosted a public panel discussion, in honour of the Dalai Lama’s visit, on the theme of neuroplasticity – the ability of the brain to adapt and change.

Dialogue on Neuroplasticity and Health took place at the Jemison Concert Hall. The participants were top neuroscientists Edward Taub, PhD; Michael Merzenich, PhD; and Toronto-based psychiatrist Dr. Norman Doidge.

The Dalai Lama, centre, with scientists. Photo by P. Wysong.

Dr. Taub is a behavioural neuroscientist at UAB, known for making vital breakthroughs in the understanding of the brain and neuroplasticity. He developed CI Therapy, now used on stroke survivors. Dr. Merzenich taught neuroscience at the University of California San Francisco and developed various therapies that affect behaviour, memory, and learning ability. Dr. Doidge authored the bestseller The Brain That Changes Itself. His Holiness periodically interjected with questions and comments.

Public dialogues with leading scientists is not an uncommon thing for the Dalai Lama to do, and through these efforts he is contributing to science literacy – and showing that spirituality and science can be complementary.

Why does a spiritual leader lean so heavily towards the sciences? Because science helps explain how the world around us works, who we are, what we are, and what our relationship is to the world. It also provides tools we can use to help make ourselves and the world a better place.

The Dalai Lama’s key message is about compassion. How can we learn to treat each other better? How can we push aside traits that make us angry, distrustful, or violent? How can we create a society that is peaceful, with people respecting and appreciating the differences in others, and avoid conflict?

One tool that could be added to efforts in these directions is neuroplasticity. Studies show that by doing certain types of brain training, people who suffer debilitating, periodic depression can become less depressed – and even reduce their need for medication. Through meditation, or other techniques that train the brain and alter neuro-wiring, people who were once quick to anger can learn to handle difficult situations more calmly and rationally. Numerous examples of using neuroplasticity are described in Doidge’s book.

As a spiritual leader, the Dalai Lama is keen on areas of science that can help people become happier. And there is no contradiction with the Gelug school going in this direction. The Gelug school is more philosophical than theistic – a specific god isn’t worshipped. Followers learn to find inner peace and enlightenment largely using meditation and teachings of ethics, mixed with its version of spirituality.

Regardless of religion, spirituality, or a lack of either, what everyone has in common is that we want to live peacefully with those around us, ideally in a compassionate society. And the Dalai Lama has embraced science to help in this quest.

A Visit to the Mad Scientists' Lab

So they're not really mad. Not even a little miffed, if the truth be known. Priya Kumar, a researcher at the Rotman Research Institute/Baycrest Centre was actually pretty happy yesterday when I stopped in for my 12:30 appointment with the MRI machine. She's planning a wedding, and her excitement bubbled over as we went through the pre-test checklist.

"Any cardiac implants?"

"No."

"Clamps in your head? Rods, Valves, Stents?"

"No."

"Transmitting devices?"

I had to think about that one. Would my communicator to the Mother Ship count?

"No," I replied.

"Good, then we're ready to go," Priya said as she handed me the fabulously fashionable wardrobe I'd need to wear for my tests. It included soft blue "shoes" NOT designed by Jimmy Choo.

I was about to have my head examined, for the fourth time, as part of the Rotman Research Institute's ongoing exploration into memory and aging. In the pursuit of scientific knowledge, I've repeatedly submitted to EKGs, answered endless survey questions and been scanned by an fMRI. I am a 'control' for their studies.

It does give me pause to know that my somewhat twisty brain is being used as the "normal."

Today's tests were looking at episodic memory. Beforehand, I'd been given a chart to fill out with 'titles' for specific memories in several different times frames - up to two weeks ago, three to seven weeks ago, up to six months ago, more than 18 months ago. Stuff like, "Coffee with Bev at Sebastians" or "Jackie's Birthday Party in the park." Once in the MRI machine, I'd be asked to recall as much as I could about each event while my brain activity was being recorded. After each one, I'd be given non-memory as a comparison. In this case, I'd be asked to identify odd or even numbers as they flashed on the screen.

Many people ask me how come I keep volunteering for these tests. Usually, their reluctance to consider doing so themselves has to do with fear of getting in that MRI machine. Luckily, I have no issue with small spaces, and being cossetted and petted and made to lie down - during the afternoon! - seems more like a treat than a burden. A mini-spa day, so to speak.

But the real reason I volunteer is that I can. As a freelance writer, I have a flexible schedule. And as a science writer, I know how tricky it is for researchers to find study subjects who can give them several hours of time during the work day. Most healthy adults are pretty well busybusybusy from 9 to 5.

The other real reason is because I'm interested. I can't think of anything more fascinating than moi moi moi, and here is a chance to take a peek into my own brain while helping to further the cause of scientific investigation. What could be better than knowing that I've helped solve a knotty problem in memory formation theory, and through my participation, helped Alzheimer patients, MS patients, and brain injury patients (all focus groups of Rotman Institute research) retain better control over their memories and life?

Once, in the cool, dark MRI room, thoroughly pajamad and hairnetted, I laid myself down on the machine's bed. A "helmet-thingy" was placed over my face. Annette, the technician, fixed it in place with soft sponges. Ear plugs, then headphones were added next. A finger-pad control panel, on which I could enter my replies to prompt questions, was taped to my hips. A heart monitor was clamped to my left toe, and a breathing monitor wrapped snugly around my waist. A pillow was placed under my knees for maximum padded comfort. Then I was slid, Space Mountain-like, into the MRI donut.

All that was missing was strewn rose petals and cucumbers for my eyes.

The machine kicked into life with an otherworldly series of clicks, bangs, toots and wheezes. At first it sounded like the huffing of the Big Bad Wolf. Then, more like bees in a hive, tooting, quacking and piping.  Bone-shaking vibrations added to the cacophony. Now I understood the reason for the headphones and emergency beeper placed near my chest - no one could hear a bloody thing once that machine was going.

The actual test lasted about an hour. Four 11- minute series of autobiographical prompts were flashed on the screen, interspersed with the odd/even tests. For each autobiographical prompt, I had to indicate how intense my memories were. Were they so vivid I felt like I was reliving it (press down right pinky)? Totally vague (left pinky)? Or something in between? After the odd/even tests, I had to indicate how complete my focus was (left pinky) or whether memories from earlier tests seeped back in.

I discovered that memories involving food had an uncanny way of seeping into the odd/evens more than non-food memories, despite the fact that I'd had a perfectly adequate lunch only an hour earlier. It took me three goes at odd/even before I'd completely shaken the vision of a greasy-but-delish Fried Chicken meal I'd had at my sister’s bucolic birthday in the park six years ago. Ditto for last week's scrumptious baked potato, slathered in sour cream. When I'd written down "Dinner with Chantelle in Amherst, Nova Scotia" on my title sheet, I'd had no idea that my baked potato would end up being the most salient part of the evening.  Kind of embarassing, that.

When the fMRI was finished, they followed up with a "I have to do absolutely nothing" structural MRI. 15 uninterrupted nap minutes, as far as I was concerned.

Then time to get dressed, and one more test. This one was pretty funky.

A few years ago, out of the blue, a woman had contacted the Rotman Brain Health Centre saying, "I think I might have a problem..." Her friends and family had been telling her for years that she was unusual. She had no memory of anything that ever happened to her in the past. No memory of last night's movie. No memory of last week's birthday dinner. No memory of last year's big house purchase. Yet she functions perfectly - husband, job, kids.

Was something strange going on?

Indeed it was. For the last several years, a Rotman research team, under the direction of Dr, Brian Levine, has been trying to figure out what's the story with this woman's decidedly unusual cranium. My tests were part of this research. The fMRI I took was looking at episodic memory - what this mystery patient lacks. Pretty clear and straightforward.

But the next test was looking at something completely different: Spatial sense and visualization.

I was asked to close my eyes and visualize different shapes in my head while the researcher gave me instructions on how to manipulate them in my mind.

Like this:

Imagine the capital letter Y.
Place a horizontal line half way along the vertical line so it crosses it evenly.
Imagine a small circle at the base of the Y's stem.
Rotate the whole image 180 degrees.
What shape do you see? (Having trouble visualizing it? Take a moment and draw the shape on paper. What do you see now?!!! Ta dah!)

It wasn't clear to me how these shape-manipulation tests related to the mystery woman with no baked potato memories. But after I was finished with the questions, I got the skinny.

The case study lady has an extremely poor spatial sense. She also has poor visualization skills. She can't hold a picture of a shape, like a triangle, in her head for any length of time, let alone twist it to the left, right or upside down.

The researchers wanted to see if this ability, or lack thereof, had any correlation to the episodic recall I demonstrated in the fMRI. Only time – and lots more data -  will tell if spatial ability and visualization skills are related to memory formation.

I participated in one final study for the Rotman Institute yesterday. You can too! It's an online survey that takes only about 15 minutes to complete. You'll be given a $10 gift certificate to Amazon for participating, so it's a win win! To take the survey and help further the cause of scientific research, go to

http://www.onlinememorytest.org/

For more information on the Rotman Institute and their fascinating research, go to:

http://www.rotman-baycrest.on.ca/

And to read about my earlier Brain Study participation, check out the post on my own blog at

http://helainebecker.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-put-my-brain-in-scanner-for-science.html

Here’s the funny thing: when I read this old memory-study post, I discovered I’d forgotten most of what had happened during it! I suppose that my , ahem, undeclared transmitter to the Mother Ship may have interfered after all.