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Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Liberating brains from bodies by capturing them with brainets?

by Karen Rommelfanger



Miguel Nicolelis is dedicated to liberating the human brain from the physical constraints of a body.



Recently, brain-machine interface engineer extraordinaire Miguel Nicolelis connected nonhuman animal brains in a modern-day mind meld called the brainet. For those who don't already know him, Nicolelis is an innovator, dedicated to pushing the limits of what is possible with neurotechnology, and a media darling to boot.



One focus of Nicolelis' work has been developing neural prostheses whose function is mediated through wired or wirelessly transmitted electrical activity from arrays of electrodes implanted on the surfaces of nonhuman animal brains. One well-known experiment from the Nicolelis lab involved monkeys that learned to feed themselves a marshmallow  or even operate a robot on a treadmill via direct connection electrodes implanted in their brains and a prosthetic arm. For extra flash, Nicolelis had a 12-lb monkey (based out of a Duke laboratory) operate a 200-lb robot on a treadmill in Tokyo by transmitting its brain activity through an Internet connection. In this same 2013 interview he waxes philosophical, “Our sense of self does not end at end of the cells of our bodies, but it ends at the last layer of the electrons of the tool that we’re commanding with our brains.”







His work has intended applications for humans. One recent media stunt involved a "Mind-controlled robotic exoskeleton"  donned by an individual who was paralyzed from the trunk down. 29-year-old Juliano Pinto kicked off the first ball at the World Cup in 2014 through an electrode studded cap on his head that transmitted recorded electrical activity from his brain to a robotic suit. Hailing from

Brazil, it's no surprise that Nicolelis chose to embark on this project the year the World Cup was hosted by Brazil.







While connecting one brain to a machine or computer is pretty impressive, many would attest that there is still no better computer than the human brain.  Nicolelis's most recent book even advances the notion that the brain cannot be simulated by a Turing machine. In fact, central to the much of the EU's Human Brain Project and the US BRAIN Initiative is the goal of understanding the complex connections of the brain that might enable us to recreate one from scratch.







It only seems only natural then that Nicolelis' group pioneered the connection of the first brain-to-brain interface wherein two rats were able to exchange tactile and motor information. In brief, one rat (the encoder rat) learned a task such as a nose poke or lever press. Choosing the correct lever resulted in the delivery of a reward such a sip of water. After the encoder rat learned the task, electrical activity from electrodes implanted in its brain were transferred to another untrained rat (the decoder rat). The decoder rat, through receiving signals from the encoder rat's brain, was able to correctly choose the lever that would deliver the reward. This study has also been discussed in more detail on this blog here. This study was followed by the connection of a human brain to a rat brain pioneered by a group at Harvard wherein electrical activity via an EEG cap worn by the human participant was transmitted to a rat through focused ultrasound to elicit a rat tail flick. And more recently researcher at the University of Washington connected two human brains with the goal of playing a video game (which in truth boiled down to having one brain transmit electrical activity to another brain to elicit a finger press of a hand carefully positioned over a keyboard.)







And that brings us to Nicolelis' most recent endeavor: brainets. In these recent experiments 3-4 rats were connected and without external training or stimuli the rats synchronized their electrical activity to engage in problem solving. Perhaps more impressive and closer to home in translation to humans was the experiment where Nicolelis and his colleagues connected 3 nonhuman primate brains to collectively operate an avatar.







Nicolelis was quoted recently in Vice saying, "This is the internet of brains. In a sense, when people are already using the internet, you're synchronizing your brain already—but in the future, that same thing could happen without you typing or using your mouse."



Is a brain truly liberated from a body when we bypass the peripheral system either through connecting multiple brains or connecting a brain directly to the Internet? Individuals like Matt Nagle, paralyzed from the neck down after being stabbed (featured below) may say yes. Nagle was the first recipient of a device called BrainGate, a device that connected his brain and its electrical activity through an Internet connection to a computer, making Mr. Nagle the first individual to have his brain directly connected to the Internet. One important consideration is whether that was a secure, protected Internet connection. Shouldn't such a connection be at least protected through a https line? Neural privacy issues abound. See this previous blog post to read more about those trenchant issues.







Perhaps the bigger question is whether we are liberating minds from bodies and whether a mind can exist without the conduit of a body. Is the brain simply a filter for the mind as neurosurgeon Sergio Canavero (who by the way intends to conduct the first head transplant) says the brain is for consciousness? Or will we find that networking our brains directly – without the body as mediator – will somehow constrain our minds and our existence? Is the brainet (rather than an inter-net) capturing or expanding who we are?



Further Reading:



I recently discussed some of the ethical implications of such technologies here in The New York Times and in our article on the ethical issues of brain-to-brain interfaces that can be found here.



If you're interested here are the links to the primary research article on the rat brainet and the monkey brainet.



Michael Chorost also wrote a relevant book entitled World-Wide Mind



Want to cite this post?



Rommelfanger, K. (2015). Liberating brains from bodies by capturing them with brainets? The Neuroethics Blog. Retrieved on , from http://www.theneuroethicsblog.com/2015/07/liberating-brains-from-bodies-by.html

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Bring back the asylum: A critical analysis of the call for a "return to 'modern' institutionalization methods"


By Cassandra Evans






Cassandra Evans is a Ph.D. student in Disability Studies at Stony Brook University. She studies mental disabilities and ethics surrounding treatment, services, and access for individuals with mental disabilities. She is currently examining the history of institutions in Suffolk County, Long Island (New York) and what shape the “way forward” from institutionalization will take in the new millennium.





This post is a shorter version of a talk Cassandra gave at the Society for Disability Studies’ national conference in Atlanta, Georgia, June 11, 2015.





In early June, 2015, I visited Pilgrim Psychiatric Center in Brentwood, New York, (Suffolk County, Long Island). As I drove onto the Pilgrim campus, I felt as if I could be entering any of the other scores of institutions around the country—the pictures I’ve seen all look so similar and convey the same eeriness: high rise brick buildings with plain numbers on them, grass growing up all around, broken and barred windows, some areas with trash heaps on the grounds and graffiti on the walls. The names were different, but during their official operations, the treatments and results were similar—many individuals stayed longer than they ever wanted, many died and few were “cured.”








This photo shows a brick high-rise institutional building with a 


gravel road leading away from its parking lot, green grass and 


fresh tire tracks nearby.  Toward the front of the building several 


cars are parked outside the front of the building at the bottom 


floor of this 10- or 12-story, double-winged ward.  “Building 82” 


at Pilgrim Psychiatric Center in Brentwood, New York, is still 


home to many individuals with psychiatric disabilities.  Though 


three out of four institutions in Suffolk County, Long Island were 


closed and their residents deinstitutionalized, others with more 


severe  disabilities or who were more geriatric ended up here.






Photo by Cassandra Evans





While there, I saw pictures and news clippings in the museum that demonstrated how, in the era when institutions were being built and filled—toward the late 1800s and early 1900s until about the 1950s, consensus was that these facilities and the treatments inside of them were “state-of-the-art.” Text describing the 1938 LIFE Eisenstaedt photo essay noted that the pictures are “showing the dark world of the insane and what scientists are doing to lead them back to the light of reason” (Long Island Psychiatric Museum, 2015). While that rhetoric was common then, I wonder if it is similar ableist thinking, this need to normalize that still prevails today, driving new calls to “bring back the asylum.”





It was a recent ethical argument on this topic in the Journal of American Medical Association (JAMA) that prompted me to visit the Long Island Psychiatric Museum. This article, “Improving long-term psychiatric care: bring back the asylum,” by Sisti, Segal and Emanuel (2015) made major waves in both academic and lay literature. In it, the authors argue that because of “transinstitutionalization”—the failure of deinstitutionalization to guarantee appropriate placements for former residents of these homes—the “way forward” for severe psychiatric patients is a return back to the asylum (Sisti et al, 2015).











This photo shows the outside of “Building 93” at Kings Park 


Psychiatric Center, originally called “Kings Park State 


Asylum” in Kings Park, New York.  There is an ominous 


darkness to the background sky of this 13-plus, story brick 


building, with a sky of grey clouds, dead grass, and bare


trees all around the abandoned surroundings.  This 


asylum was completely closed in 1996, but many buildings


 like “Building 93” remain on the property unused and


withering. As I neared the turn off for the Pilgrim Psychiatric 


Center, I had visions of a scene in the film Kings Park: Studies 


from an American Mental InstitutionThe decaying buildings 


of Kings Park Psychiatric Center or “Kings Park State Asylum,” 


as it was originally christened in 1896, sit some 11 miles to the 


north of the facility I would enter this day, and looks almost 


identical to the hundreds of Goffman-esque and Foucaldian 


brick wards built on Pilgrim’s campus. 






Photo by Rick Jones




While I am not categorically opposed to in-patient treatment for many health needs, and I do agree that the streets, emergency rooms, and jails or prisons are not safe nor appropriate places for people with mental disabilities, I argue that prudence and caution must guide newer service delivery decisions as well as humane and person-centered care. We must also remember that some individuals do in fact choose to be homeless and are quite happy doing so. Asylums, prisons, and streets are not the only answers—community-based mental health services have yet to be fully actualized. And, if, in some cases, a long-term institution is necessary, I wonder, how do we guarantee its benevolence and efficacy? The consumer/survivor/ex-patient/mad or “c/s/x/m community,” as its often described today, and their families deserve an answer to this question.











This black and white postcard, dated Oct. 4, 1964, found 


in the Long Island Psychiatric Museum, touts Pilgrim 


State Hospital’s own infamy: “largest in the world.” 


The photo showcases another high-rise brick building of 


at least 10-to 12-stories with turrets and hundreds of 


uniformly shaped small windows. LIFE Magazine 


clippings at the Museum also described Pilgrim as,  


“A city of the insane.  It grows every day.” 






Photo of the postcard by Cassandra Evans, 


taken at Long Island Psychiatric Museum, June 2015




We must also consider the possibility for non-medical motives for institutionalization. Some have argued large asylums were not only part of the medical system, but were also integral parts of local economies. While Pilgrim’s claim to being the “largest in the world” was true—no institution was physically larger nor housed more patients than Pilgrim—it was also grand in terms of job creation. As Liat Ben-Moshe argues, housing bodies in institutions like these historically (and in present day) created thousands of jobs (2011). Citing Russell’s logic of “handicapitalism,” Ben-Moshe calls our attention to the risks of making the “unproductive” or non-working bodies lucrative when we place them in institutional beds—whether that means jails, nursing homes, psychiatric centers or group homes. The four large institutions built in the late 19th century to mid 20th century in Long Island, in fact, brought the region thousands of jobs, fostered an entire economy based on psychiatric “care,” and created what are now the numerous towns in the area. As institutions in cities like New York became overcrowded, states looked to rural areas to create “work farms” or silos to warehouse patients. Thus, an entire industry was designed, built, and sustained around mental disabilities for decades.











This graphic is a Google map of Western Suffolk County in Long Island, 


showing major interstates and parkways and the proximity of four of Long 


Island’s asylums with their names and numbers in terms of chronological 


appearance in Suffolk County, written at each site:  1.  Kings County 


Asylum in Kings Park, New York; 2. Central Islip State Hospital in 


Central Islip, New York; 3. Pilgrim State Hospital in Brentwood, New York;


4. Edgewood State Hospital in Deer Park, New York. All sit within a 12- to 


15-mile radius. New York State built four large psychiatric hospitals in western 


Suffolk County between 1885 and 1942, housing anywhere between 20,000 to 


40,000 patients at one time between the four of them.  Pilgrim State remains the 


last functional institution of the four today, and now has about 300 individuals 


who live on campus long-term.




As I looked at black and white photos of men in straightjackets, I also thought of the “O and O” or “R and R” that James Trent writes about in Inventing the Feeble Mind (1994). These “work farms” were supposed to promote “Oxygen and Occupation” or “Rest and Relaxation.” The proposed philosophy behind institutionalization of both mental patients and “the feeble minded” through the end of the 19th and early 20th centuries touted outdoor experiences, fresh air, and acres of open land. The design of these rural farms (all over the country) would allow for shipping family members with serious mental disabilities off to safer, more controlled environments in picturesque areas where they could be a part of pastoral life—planting and tending crops, milking cows, sewing, and cooking country meals. While some of these activities did become part of some patients’ days, we now know, in the case of the individuals in psychiatric hospitals, they were still subjected to prolonged and significant physical restraints, experimental lobotomy surgeries, shock treatments, hydrotherapy, insulin, isolation, and testing of Thorazine. In addition, as Trent notes, “the feeble-minded” were commonly sterilized at their “work farms” (1994).








This black and white 1938 photograph was part of a series in an expose 


about a day in the life of “residents” at a number of asylums in the 


United States—Ohio, Pennsylvania and New York were featured. 


In this scene, six men in Pilgrim State Hospital are confined to 


straightjackets.  They sit in front of a brick wall with a barred 


window next to them.  Three of six of the men are sitting looking 


blankly into the camera.  One is standing in the corner with his mouth 


wide open—either yawning or yelling.  Two others are seen sitting 


looking away from the camera.  Each straightjacket has wide and 


bolding number on it, such as “4-2” or “I-8” in what looks like 


some form of identifying the patients. This photo is also found 


in the 1938 LIFE Magazine expose on “state-of-the-art” treatments. 






Photo by Alfred Eisenstaedt




I looked at the expansive grounds surrounding this particular parcel of land (at its height 1000 acres), and wondered how many of its 10,000 to 16,000 residents (the largest number of patients varies depending on the source) were actually participating in the “O & O” or “R & R” the institutions touted and for which the state or their families paid.





Sisti, Segal and Emanuel describe the asylum as a place of “retreat and security; shelter” (2015). They point to Worcester Recovery Center and Hospital in Massachusetts as a new, model asylum. It has electronic health records, 320 private rooms for “patients with chronic, serious mental illness,” and a fully integrated health system as a possible model for reform (244). They note that centers like this one are more desirable than the default treatment centers of nursing homes, jails, and prisons.





Coincidentally, Pilgrim Psychiatric Center, the last remaining institution of the four original asylums in Suffolk County, houses only about 300 long-term psychiatric patients now—about the same number for which Worcester was built. Pilgrim’s registry shrunk from a capacity of between 11,000 and 16,000 to a mere 300. The hospital says there are no longer direct admits and its goal is to only have patients stay for a maximum of six months of treatment, then discharge. However, currently, because there are still residual residents who have spent their entire lives in institutions, “the official average is eight years and one-third months” (Kalvin, 2015).











This photo (taken inside the Long Island Psychiatric Museum in color) 


shows a brown, wooden chair with leather arm straps, a leather waist 


strap, and a cranium-sized wooden box at the top of the chair that 


appears to fit over a human head—also equipped with leather restraint 


straps.  In the seat of the chair is a large round hole with a metal or tin 


pot underneath it, presumably to collect waste while an individual is 


restrained for long periods of time.  In the left side of the photograph, 


directly next to the chair, appears a portion of a beige-colored 


straightjacket—possibly just an arm or the groin straps—hanging 


from a pole right next to the chair. This chair was designed in the United 


States by physician Benjamin Rush, who is sometimes referred to 


as the grandfather of psychiatry.  Rush’s “tranquilizing” chair was 


considered state-of-the-art from the early 1800s through early 


1900s for subduing “insane” patients with chronic hallucinations 


and outbursts. LIPM notes that name later evolved into the “coercion chair.






Photo by Cassandra Evans




Of course there are far more than 300 people in Suffolk County, Long Island that need long-term care. While I agree, YES (emphatically), neither streets nor jail are proper places for long-term care (in some cases, it could be argued that those spaces may actually make recovery or community re-integration less likely when prison staff are not properly trained or equipped to be mental health providers), we must interrogate what it means for an asylum-like hospital to be a “safe haven,” or a “refuge.” The question of how long “long-term” is bears pondering as well. In order to be truly “patient-centered,” perhaps there is a way forward that includes the c/s/x/m community in designing these havens, asking these questions and providing answers.





Additionally, when Sisti, et al dismiss community-based mental health services as failures while admitting they were never well-funded, they leave more stones unturned. Further inquiry is needed to answer how community-based mental health services can become more effective and well-funded. Do parents and professionals still prefer asylums because they are more convenient and cost-effective? And, finally, it is worth noting that some individuals will continue to choose the streets as alternatives to asylums, prisons, or community care centers.





In the end, there were no self-identified c/s/x/m on my tour of the asylum—only two nurses who had lived on the Pilgrim campus attending nursing school and a couple who was taking the tour with their baby as “urban adventurers.” The nurses were celebrating their 40th anniversary of graduating from nursing school and the urban adventurer couple was trying to visit as many asylums across the country as they could. The baby was could not tell me why he was there, but he was screaming loudly, restrained in his chair, crying, and acting like he wanted to get out.





REFERENCES





Ben-Moshe, L. (2011). Disabling incarceration: connecting disability to divergent confinement in the USA. Critical Sociology doi: 10.1177/0896920511430864.





Foucault, M. (1965). Madness and civilization: a history of insanity in the age of reason. New York: Random House.





Foucault, M. (1977). Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. Translated by Alan Sheridan, London: Allen Lane, Penguin. First published in French as Surveiller et punir, Gallimard, Paris, 1975.





Goffman, E. (1961). Asylums; essays on the social situation of mental patients and other inmates. Garden City, N.Y.: Anchor Books.





Kalvin, S. (2015, June 3). Volunteer museum tour operator and employee of Pilgrim Psychiatric Center. In person interview at Long Island Psychiatric Museum.





Kings Park: stories from an American mental institution [Motion picture]. (2011) Wildlight Productions (Lucy Winer).





Merriam-Webster Dictionary (2015, June 2). Retrieved from http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/asylum.





Montross, C. (2015, February 18). The Modern Asylum. The New York Times. Retrieved from http://www.nytimes.com/2015/02/18/opinion/the-modern-asylum.html?_r=0.





Russell, M. (1998). Beyond ramps: disability at the end of he social contract—a warning from an uppity crip. Monroe, ME: Common Courage Press.





Sisti, D.A., Segal, A.G., Emanuel, E. J. (2015). Improving long-term psychiatric care: bring back the asylum. Journal of American Medical Association, 313(3): 243-244.





Trent, J. (1994). Inventing the feeble mind: a history of mental retardation in the United States. Berkeley: University of California Press.





Want to cite this post?





Evans, C. (2015). Bring back the asylum: A critical analysis of the call for a "return to 'modern' institutionalization methods". The Neuroethics Blog. Retrieved on , from http://www.theneuroethicsblog.com/2015/07/bring-back-asylum-critical-analysis-of.html