Fantastically detailed post, thank you for taking the time to write up all this!
I’d be curious to hear your thoughts about the following. There seems to be an obvious conflict between:
Behavioral genetics, which has all these findings about the childhood environment only having a limited effect
Therapy, where memory reconsolidation can achieve significant chances in people’s feelings and behavior by changing subconscious beliefs, and many of those beliefs seem to be related to childhood events and experiences
One hypothesis I’ve had for reconciling those is based on what evolutionary psychologists have learned about fear of snakes. At one point, it was thought that humans might be hardwired with a fear of spiders and snakes in particular. But later work then suggested that this is wrong—instead, humans are evolutionarily biased towards paying extra attention to things like spiders and snakes.
Then because we pay more attention to things that look like that, it’s more likely that we notice something scary about them. Or if we’ve been told that they’re dangerous, then just repeatedly noticing them increases the chance that we develop a mild phobia around them (as it’s increasing the prior of “this dangerous thing might be around and you should notice it”). And that seems to explain why things like spider and snake phobias are much more common than things like electricity phobias:
Seligman’s account suggested that specialised, central mechanisms of fear learning more readily connect aversive events, such as electric shock, with fear-relevant stimuli, such as snakes – which presented genuine threats to our evolutionary ancestors – than with ‘fear-irrelevant’ stimuli such as geometric shapes or flowers. This account predicts that fear of fear-relevant objects should be learned faster, and be extinguished more slowly when shock no longer occurs, as well as being resistant to topdown modification, for example, by instructions indicating that shocks will not occur.
The results of early experiments were consistent with some of these predictions (e.g., [50,51]), but none has withstood extended experimental investigation. Faster or better conditioning with fear-relevant stimuli has rarely been observed, and there is ample evidence that, like most associative learning (e.g., [52]), it can be modified by instruction (reviewed in [53,54]). Initially it seemed that responses to fear-relevant stimuli might extinguish more slowly. However, a recent systematic review [55] found that most positive findings came from a single laboratory, and a large majority of the full set of studies had failed to find differences between fear-relevant and fear-irrelevant stimuli in the rate of extinction.
These results suggest that fear of snakes and other fear-relevant stimuli is learned via the same central mechanisms as fear of arbitrary stimuli. Nevertheless, if that is correct, why do phobias so often relate to objects encountered by our ancestors, such as snakes and spiders, rather than to objects such as guns and electrical sockets that are dangerous now [10]? Because peripheral, attentional mechanisms are tuned to fear-relevant stimuli, all threat stimuli attract attention, but fear-relevant stimuli do so without learning (e.g., [56]). This answer is supported by evidence from conditioning experiments demonstrating enhanced attention to fear-relevant stimuli regardless of learning (Box 2), studies of visual search [57–59], and developmental psychology [60,61]. For example, infants aged 6–9 months show a greater drop in heart rate – indicative of heightened attention rather than fear – when they watch snakes than when they watch elephants [62].
Now suppose that some people carried genes that made them pay extra attention to snakes and/or spiders, and other people didn’t. In that situation, you might observe both that:
The probability of having a snake or spider phobia was strongly heritable—people with those genes were likely to develop that phobia, with parenting style having little effect
Therapists employing memory reconsolidation-based methods for treating the phobia could often find some specific childhood experiences that had to do with spiders, that seemed to be at the root of the phobia (and doing reconsolidation on these experiences reliably helped with the phobia)
We could then suppose that a lot of other psychological traits are similar: if you have a certain set of genes, it will make you much more likely to have a particular kind of psychological reaction in response to external events. While a person with another set of genes would react differently. And while people in different kinds of environments will differ in exactly what kinds of events they are exposed, then assuming that they belong to a roughly similar social class within the same country, they will probably still have some experiences that are roughly similar.
For instance, when I was little, some older children in our neighborhood made up a story about a man going around the neighborhood and kidnapping children. I expect that a lot of kids who weren’t particularly inclined toward high neuroticism soon forgot about the whole thing. Meanwhile I got really scared about it and asked my parents if we couldn’t move somewhere else, and then much later as an adult found myself having minor anxiety that seemed to have its roots in this childhood experience.
Now if we hadn’t lived in that particular middle-class neighborhood, I wouldn’t have encountered that particular rumor and it wouldn’t have left a mark on me. But given that I had high-neuroticism genes that made me seriously freaked out by some older children deciding to scare the younger ones a bit, probably something else would have happened in any other middle-class neighborhood that would have felt equally scary and made me somewhat more inclined to anxiety in the future.
That would again lead to the pattern where most major differences seem to come from genetic differences, and at the same time many people with psychological problems can consistently trace the source of their problems to childhood experiences.
Thanks! Yeah, I think I would have said something pretty similar to that.
Actually, I might have gone a bit further and said:
Maybe, people have the experience
(A) “First, I reprocessed the childhood scare experience. Second, I found some that my adult anxiety was generally relieved to some extent.”
…and they naturally conclude
(B) “…Therefore, the childhood scare experience must have been (partly) causing the adult anxiety all along.”
…but I wonder if we could also entertain an alternate theory:
(B’) “…Gee, I guess this reprocessing must have been a kind of ‘training / practice / exercise’ during which I could forge new better subconscious habits and associations related to ‘the feeling of anxiety’ in general. And these new subconscious habits and associations are now serving me well in a wide variety of adult contexts.”
After all, you can’t form new subconscious habits and associations related to “the feeling of anxiety” except by invoking “the feeling of anxiety” somehow in the process. It seems plausible to me that childhood memories would be very effective way to do that. After all, (1) I think emotions are generally very strong in childhood and teenage years, and (2) maybe there’s some sense in which long-ago memories are objectively “safer” since the situation is long over, and thus it’s easier to entertain the idea that the feeling is not serving any real purpose.
Also, AFAICT, people achieve great therapeutic success by methods that involve bringing up childhood memories, but other peoplealso achieve great therapeutic success by methods that don’t. :)
I’m not an expert like you are—indeed I have no personal experience whatsoever—so you can tell me if that doesn’t ring true. :)
(B’) “…Gee, I guess this reprocessing must have been a kind of ‘training / practice / exercise’ during which I could forge new better subconscious habits and associations related to ‘the feeling of anxiety’ in general. And these new subconscious habits and associations are now serving me well in a wide variety of adult contexts.”
I think that there are definitely techniques that work on one’s reaction to the feeling of anxiety in general, but the specific ones that I had in mind don’t feel like they’d be doing that. Rather they seem much more localized, in that they eliminate some particular anxiety trigger or specific kind of anxiety from getting triggered in the first place. But then if something else happens to trigger the same or a similar anxiety, the person isn’t necessarily any better at dealing with that.
So if someone feels the same kind of anxious around both spiders and snakes, then this kind of an intervention might eliminate the fear of spiders entirely, while leaving the reaction to snakes entirely unaffected (or vice versa).
Also, AFAICT, people achieve great therapeutic success by methods that involve bringing up childhood memories, but other peoplealso achieve great therapeutic success by methods that don’t. :)
Oh yeah definitely, didn’t mean to imply that working with memories would be the only approach that worked.
OK gotcha. But I can just rephrase slightly, let me try again:
(B’’) “…Gee, I guess this reprocessing must have been a kind of ‘training / practice / exercise’ during which I could forge new better subconscious habits and associations related to ‘type-of-situation X’ (which used to invoke anxiety). And these new subconscious habits and associations are now serving me well when I encounter type-of-situation X (or anything that vaguely rings of it) an adult context too.”
After all, you can’t form new subconscious habits and associations related to “type-of-situation X” except by making “type-of-situation X” thoughts active somehow during that process. It seems plausible to me that invoking a childhood memory where type-of-situation X triggered unhealthy anxiety would be very effective way to do that.
~~
I think what I’m suggesting is not that different from what you’re suggesting. Maybe the difference is when you wrote “…some specific childhood experiences that had to do with spiders, that seemed to be at the root of the phobia…”.
My mental image is, like, there’s some neuron in the amygdala, and one day in childhood it forms Synapse S connecting some input related to the idea of spiders with some output related to fear reactions. Then the goal for the adult therapy session is to delete Synapse S (or form different connections that counteract its effects, or whatever). Basically, my proposal is:
One day in childhood → Synapse S forms
Adult sees spider → Synapse S → fear reactions
I’m contrasting that with:
[What I don’t believe, but it sounds like maybe you do?] Adult sees spider → childhood memory reactivates, at least a little bit → fear reactions
In other words, I want to say that the childhood experience is “at the root of the phobia” as a matter of the historical record of how Synapse S came to be there, but it’s not “at the root of the phobia” in the sense of the episodic memory itself playing a critical causal role in the real-time anxiety reaction.
…And I’m saying that my hypothesis would nevertheless be compatible with childhood-memory-based therapies being effective, because invoking the actual episodic childhood memory itself, in a therapeutic context, is one possible path to delete or inactivate Synapse S.
Well, hmm, on second thought, I guess both stories are possible, maybe they coexist.
Do psychological issues involve reactivation of an earlier memory such that the reactivation plays a causal role in the issue?
Can you address an issue without explicitly working with an earlier memory?
For the first question, I’d say “it depends”. On one end, we have something like PTSD flashbacks—here a reactivation of a memory is clearly in a causal role, since “a memory getting reactivated to such an extent that the person experiences themselves as literally reliving it” is what a flashback is.
Slightly less strong but still strongly suggestive of a causal role is something where a person imagines themselves doing something, but then—maybe just at the back of their mind—recalls a painful memory and flinches away from doing that. E.g. they consider speaking up, but then a flicker of a memory comes up about a time when they spoke up and somebody ridiculed them, and they quickly close their mouth. Here there seems to at least be a causal path from the memory to the issue, in that the memory is charged with negative affect and that the memory coming up causes the person to reorient to something that makes the memory recede in intensity.
Then we have cases where there’s no obvious memory at first, but directing attention to the issue and asking questions about it brings up a memory, even though none of the questions ever ask about memories directly. For example, someone might feel like they have to act in a certain way in a particular social situation despite finding it unpleasant. Now a therapist might ask them something like “what would be bad about acting differently” and have them focus on what feels emotionally or intuitively bad about it (rather than what logical justifications their mind would offer). Then there might be a line of questioning that went something like:
“I have difficulty getting a turn to speak because I tend to wait extra long to make sure others have finished speaking before I speak up. And then I wait so long that someone else always starts talking before I can.”
“Okay, so what would be bad about speaking up before you’re certain that others have finished speaking?”
“Then I might interrupt them before they’re finished.”
“Okay, what would be bad about interrupting them before they’re finished?”
“That’d feel unfair toward them.”
“In what way does it feel unfair?”
“Hmm, I’m getting a memory of a time when I was trying to speak up but my father interrupted me, and then I tried talking anyway and then he acted like I had interrupted him and that I should let him talk first. That felt really bad and unfair. I guess I want to make sure to act better than he did, and make sure that I never interrupt someone else when it’s their turn to speak.”
Is the memory in a causal role here? Probably depends on how exactly we define “causal”. But at least it seems like there is some kind of a model about how the person wants to act or not act (“interrupting other people is unfair toward them, and should be avoided”) that was formed due to an earlier experience. When one tries to elicit details about how exactly the model works, the model seems to structurally incorporate the original experience as a reference point for what exactly the core bad thing is. And working with the memory often seems to help with one’s issues.
Given that this kind of a memory seems to have a similar character as the PTSD and the “I can hear the people mocking me” memories, just buried slightly deeper, to me the simplest and most plausible explanation would be that it has a causal role in the same way as the less-buried ones do.
Then on the other hand, it’s not always the case that this kind of questioning leads to any clear-cut memory. Sometimes what comes up feels more like a general model that has been formed out of multiple different life experiences, with none of original instances having been stored. Or there might be an issue that seems to go back to an age young enough that the person doesn’t have any explicit memories of it, and it has only left a general emotional imprint. In those cases the memory doesn’t seem to have any causal role, because there doesn’t seem to be any memory around to begin with.
Or at least not one that would be easily accessible. I’ve heard of claims from people who got into states of deep meditation or strong doses of psychedelics that they managed to access very early painful memories that wouldn’t have been available in a normal therapeutic context, and then got independent confirmation for the truthfulness of those memories afterward. I’ve not looked into these in detail but I’m inclined to suspect they’re true. In part due to my personal experiences of old memories spontaneously coming up in altered states of consciousness (and this sometimes shifting behaviors), in part because “all behaviors involve an original memory trace being stored somewhere and that trace then driving behavior, with some of those traces just being buried deep or in not normally forward-compatible storage formats” would again seem like the most parsimonious model.
As for the second question, I’d again say it depends. If someone is suffering from a PTSD flashback, it’s going to be hard to do anything about that without working with the traumatic memory in some way! But for the ones where the problem isn’t so directly driven by an explicit memory reactivation, there are definitely a lot of approaches that work by changing other parts of the model. E.g. if the model makes a particular prediction about the world in general (“people will always find it unfair if I speak up before being absolutely certain that they’re finished”), then it’s often possible to disprove that prediction without going into the details of the original memory. And while some therapies focus on the episodic memory component of the learned model, others work on different components.
Fantastically detailed post, thank you for taking the time to write up all this!
I’d be curious to hear your thoughts about the following. There seems to be an obvious conflict between:
Behavioral genetics, which has all these findings about the childhood environment only having a limited effect
Therapy, where memory reconsolidation can achieve significant chances in people’s feelings and behavior by changing subconscious beliefs, and many of those beliefs seem to be related to childhood events and experiences
One hypothesis I’ve had for reconciling those is based on what evolutionary psychologists have learned about fear of snakes. At one point, it was thought that humans might be hardwired with a fear of spiders and snakes in particular. But later work then suggested that this is wrong—instead, humans are evolutionarily biased towards paying extra attention to things like spiders and snakes.
Then because we pay more attention to things that look like that, it’s more likely that we notice something scary about them. Or if we’ve been told that they’re dangerous, then just repeatedly noticing them increases the chance that we develop a mild phobia around them (as it’s increasing the prior of “this dangerous thing might be around and you should notice it”). And that seems to explain why things like spider and snake phobias are much more common than things like electricity phobias:
Now suppose that some people carried genes that made them pay extra attention to snakes and/or spiders, and other people didn’t. In that situation, you might observe both that:
The probability of having a snake or spider phobia was strongly heritable—people with those genes were likely to develop that phobia, with parenting style having little effect
Therapists employing memory reconsolidation-based methods for treating the phobia could often find some specific childhood experiences that had to do with spiders, that seemed to be at the root of the phobia (and doing reconsolidation on these experiences reliably helped with the phobia)
We could then suppose that a lot of other psychological traits are similar: if you have a certain set of genes, it will make you much more likely to have a particular kind of psychological reaction in response to external events. While a person with another set of genes would react differently. And while people in different kinds of environments will differ in exactly what kinds of events they are exposed, then assuming that they belong to a roughly similar social class within the same country, they will probably still have some experiences that are roughly similar.
For instance, when I was little, some older children in our neighborhood made up a story about a man going around the neighborhood and kidnapping children. I expect that a lot of kids who weren’t particularly inclined toward high neuroticism soon forgot about the whole thing. Meanwhile I got really scared about it and asked my parents if we couldn’t move somewhere else, and then much later as an adult found myself having minor anxiety that seemed to have its roots in this childhood experience.
Now if we hadn’t lived in that particular middle-class neighborhood, I wouldn’t have encountered that particular rumor and it wouldn’t have left a mark on me. But given that I had high-neuroticism genes that made me seriously freaked out by some older children deciding to scare the younger ones a bit, probably something else would have happened in any other middle-class neighborhood that would have felt equally scary and made me somewhat more inclined to anxiety in the future.
That would again lead to the pattern where most major differences seem to come from genetic differences, and at the same time many people with psychological problems can consistently trace the source of their problems to childhood experiences.
Thanks! Yeah, I think I would have said something pretty similar to that.
Actually, I might have gone a bit further and said:
Maybe, people have the experience
(A) “First, I reprocessed the childhood scare experience. Second, I found some that my adult anxiety was generally relieved to some extent.”
…and they naturally conclude
(B) “…Therefore, the childhood scare experience must have been (partly) causing the adult anxiety all along.”
…but I wonder if we could also entertain an alternate theory:
(B’) “…Gee, I guess this reprocessing must have been a kind of ‘training / practice / exercise’ during which I could forge new better subconscious habits and associations related to ‘the feeling of anxiety’ in general. And these new subconscious habits and associations are now serving me well in a wide variety of adult contexts.”
After all, you can’t form new subconscious habits and associations related to “the feeling of anxiety” except by invoking “the feeling of anxiety” somehow in the process. It seems plausible to me that childhood memories would be very effective way to do that. After all, (1) I think emotions are generally very strong in childhood and teenage years, and (2) maybe there’s some sense in which long-ago memories are objectively “safer” since the situation is long over, and thus it’s easier to entertain the idea that the feeling is not serving any real purpose.
Also, AFAICT, people achieve great therapeutic success by methods that involve bringing up childhood memories, but other people also achieve great therapeutic success by methods that don’t. :)
I’m not an expert like you are—indeed I have no personal experience whatsoever—so you can tell me if that doesn’t ring true. :)
Cool, thanks!
I think that there are definitely techniques that work on one’s reaction to the feeling of anxiety in general, but the specific ones that I had in mind don’t feel like they’d be doing that. Rather they seem much more localized, in that they eliminate some particular anxiety trigger or specific kind of anxiety from getting triggered in the first place. But then if something else happens to trigger the same or a similar anxiety, the person isn’t necessarily any better at dealing with that.
So if someone feels the same kind of anxious around both spiders and snakes, then this kind of an intervention might eliminate the fear of spiders entirely, while leaving the reaction to snakes entirely unaffected (or vice versa).
Oh yeah definitely, didn’t mean to imply that working with memories would be the only approach that worked.
OK gotcha. But I can just rephrase slightly, let me try again:
(B’’) “…Gee, I guess this reprocessing must have been a kind of ‘training / practice / exercise’ during which I could forge new better subconscious habits and associations related to ‘type-of-situation X’ (which used to invoke anxiety). And these new subconscious habits and associations are now serving me well when I encounter type-of-situation X (or anything that vaguely rings of it) an adult context too.”
After all, you can’t form new subconscious habits and associations related to “type-of-situation X” except by making “type-of-situation X” thoughts active somehow during that process. It seems plausible to me that invoking a childhood memory where type-of-situation X triggered unhealthy anxiety would be very effective way to do that.
~~
I think what I’m suggesting is not that different from what you’re suggesting. Maybe the difference is when you wrote “…some specific childhood experiences that had to do with spiders, that seemed to be at the root of the phobia…”.
My mental image is, like, there’s some neuron in the amygdala, and one day in childhood it forms Synapse S connecting some input related to the idea of spiders with some output related to fear reactions. Then the goal for the adult therapy session is to delete Synapse S (or form different connections that counteract its effects, or whatever). Basically, my proposal is:
One day in childhood → Synapse S forms
Adult sees spider → Synapse S → fear reactions
I’m contrasting that with:
[What I don’t believe, but it sounds like maybe you do?] Adult sees spider → childhood memory reactivates, at least a little bit → fear reactions
In other words, I want to say that the childhood experience is “at the root of the phobia” as a matter of the historical record of how Synapse S came to be there, but it’s not “at the root of the phobia” in the sense of the episodic memory itself playing a critical causal role in the real-time anxiety reaction.
…And I’m saying that my hypothesis would nevertheless be compatible with childhood-memory-based therapies being effective, because invoking the actual episodic childhood memory itself, in a therapeutic context, is one possible path to delete or inactivate Synapse S.
Well, hmm, on second thought, I guess both stories are possible, maybe they coexist.
So I think we have two separate questions here:
Do psychological issues involve reactivation of an earlier memory such that the reactivation plays a causal role in the issue?
Can you address an issue without explicitly working with an earlier memory?
For the first question, I’d say “it depends”. On one end, we have something like PTSD flashbacks—here a reactivation of a memory is clearly in a causal role, since “a memory getting reactivated to such an extent that the person experiences themselves as literally reliving it” is what a flashback is.
Slightly less strong but still strongly suggestive of a causal role is something where a person imagines themselves doing something, but then—maybe just at the back of their mind—recalls a painful memory and flinches away from doing that. E.g. they consider speaking up, but then a flicker of a memory comes up about a time when they spoke up and somebody ridiculed them, and they quickly close their mouth. Here there seems to at least be a causal path from the memory to the issue, in that the memory is charged with negative affect and that the memory coming up causes the person to reorient to something that makes the memory recede in intensity.
Then we have cases where there’s no obvious memory at first, but directing attention to the issue and asking questions about it brings up a memory, even though none of the questions ever ask about memories directly. For example, someone might feel like they have to act in a certain way in a particular social situation despite finding it unpleasant. Now a therapist might ask them something like “what would be bad about acting differently” and have them focus on what feels emotionally or intuitively bad about it (rather than what logical justifications their mind would offer). Then there might be a line of questioning that went something like:
“I have difficulty getting a turn to speak because I tend to wait extra long to make sure others have finished speaking before I speak up. And then I wait so long that someone else always starts talking before I can.”
“Okay, so what would be bad about speaking up before you’re certain that others have finished speaking?”
“Then I might interrupt them before they’re finished.”
“Okay, what would be bad about interrupting them before they’re finished?”
“That’d feel unfair toward them.”
“In what way does it feel unfair?”
“Hmm, I’m getting a memory of a time when I was trying to speak up but my father interrupted me, and then I tried talking anyway and then he acted like I had interrupted him and that I should let him talk first. That felt really bad and unfair. I guess I want to make sure to act better than he did, and make sure that I never interrupt someone else when it’s their turn to speak.”
Is the memory in a causal role here? Probably depends on how exactly we define “causal”. But at least it seems like there is some kind of a model about how the person wants to act or not act (“interrupting other people is unfair toward them, and should be avoided”) that was formed due to an earlier experience. When one tries to elicit details about how exactly the model works, the model seems to structurally incorporate the original experience as a reference point for what exactly the core bad thing is. And working with the memory often seems to help with one’s issues.
Given that this kind of a memory seems to have a similar character as the PTSD and the “I can hear the people mocking me” memories, just buried slightly deeper, to me the simplest and most plausible explanation would be that it has a causal role in the same way as the less-buried ones do.
Then on the other hand, it’s not always the case that this kind of questioning leads to any clear-cut memory. Sometimes what comes up feels more like a general model that has been formed out of multiple different life experiences, with none of original instances having been stored. Or there might be an issue that seems to go back to an age young enough that the person doesn’t have any explicit memories of it, and it has only left a general emotional imprint. In those cases the memory doesn’t seem to have any causal role, because there doesn’t seem to be any memory around to begin with.
Or at least not one that would be easily accessible. I’ve heard of claims from people who got into states of deep meditation or strong doses of psychedelics that they managed to access very early painful memories that wouldn’t have been available in a normal therapeutic context, and then got independent confirmation for the truthfulness of those memories afterward. I’ve not looked into these in detail but I’m inclined to suspect they’re true. In part due to my personal experiences of old memories spontaneously coming up in altered states of consciousness (and this sometimes shifting behaviors), in part because “all behaviors involve an original memory trace being stored somewhere and that trace then driving behavior, with some of those traces just being buried deep or in not normally forward-compatible storage formats” would again seem like the most parsimonious model.
As for the second question, I’d again say it depends. If someone is suffering from a PTSD flashback, it’s going to be hard to do anything about that without working with the traumatic memory in some way! But for the ones where the problem isn’t so directly driven by an explicit memory reactivation, there are definitely a lot of approaches that work by changing other parts of the model. E.g. if the model makes a particular prediction about the world in general (“people will always find it unfair if I speak up before being absolutely certain that they’re finished”), then it’s often possible to disprove that prediction without going into the details of the original memory. And while some therapies focus on the episodic memory component of the learned model, others work on different components.
That’s very helpful, thanks!