failure to communicate

Thinking about LSD and mind control experiments made me think of the brain. Isn't it amazing how much trust we put in it? How are we certain that it tells us the truth? I mean we all walk through life failing to communicate in other ways. Our partner doesn’t understand us, our boss doesn’t appreciate us, our children never listen and how come our friends can be such insensitive assholes anyway? Life is a continuous breakdown of meaning; one misunderstanding stacked upon the next, a beaver dam of tiny twigs of intent blocking our ability to live life to the fullest.

But really, it is not so strange that we have problems understanding other people. First we must understand ourselves. Who are we? What do we want?

It all begins in the brain.

First let us take a tour down the corpus callosum, the busy highway bridge of our consciousness, linking the left and right hemispheres of our brain with 800 million nerve fibers exchanging over 4 billion messages each second. This is the hub of our twin cities of the mind. But what if something goes wrong? Through fluke of birth or the surgical blade, sometimes the bridge gets blown up, the interstate is closed down and suddenly each hemisphere is left to its own device like partners from a failed marriage. No longer are we a single cohesive whole, with a dog and a house and kids and mutual friends. Suddenly we are separate halves, where one will get the dog, the other gets the house and kids and friends have sides to pick as we try to find a new definition for our single self. This is the split-brain syndrome. This is where we go through the rabbit hole.

Consider this:

Case one: Subject holds an object in his right hand behind a screen. If asked, she can name the object with no problem. Asked to do the same with the left hand, the subject can’t find the words to describe it. If asked to pick out a similar object however, there is no problem.

Our brain has two hemispheres, left and right. The left side of the brain controls the right side of the body, and is often considered to be the dominant one in today’s society. The right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, but like in every successful partnership it is not as much subservient, as it is different. The left side handles language and grammar and writing, it is the half I am calling upon to write these words and make them understandable. You use the same half to read them. The right side deals with abstract concepts, spatial relationships and emotions. You will need your right side to understand the philosophical implications of the words. Of course nothing is ever clear cut, the left side can be creative, and the right side can learn words and writing, but in general both sides tend to be lazy. They keep doing what they’ve always done unless spurred to do things differently.

Case two: Subject can see one half of the screen with his right eye, while the left eye can see the other half. On the left half of the screen is shown a cat. On the right half of the screen is shown a hat. Each of the subjects hands have access to a box of items they can pick to associate with the picture shown.

Case three: Subject as above, each eye seeing half a screen. Subject is now told to press a button whenever the image of a ball is shown. As long as the ball shows up on the left side, everything is fine. But as the ball shows up on the right side and the button is pressed, the subject spontaneously apologizes for getting it wrong.

The right eye sees the cat; the left eye sees the hat. We see the cat in the hat, and can pick out a book from the box, at least if we have fond memories of our childhood Dr Seuss. In our mind we have a single story, a unified whole of cats in hats on rainy days with spoilsport fishes saying nay. But if the bridge between our hemispheres is cut, there is a failure to communicate the whole story. The left hemisphere sees the cat, and the right hand picks a collar with a bell to relate to it. The right hemisphere sees the hat, and the left hand picks a feather to put in it. We suddenly have two tales, existing side by side, like the cats of Schrödinger, neither dead nor alive until we ask. Because the act of asking employs words, the left hemisphere tells the story of his cat, with a bell on his collar so it won’t kill the birds. And since it sees the feather that the right hemisphere picked out, it makes up a story for that too, that it is the feather of the bird that got away. Suddenly our left hemisphere has become a liar, making up stories to fill in the blanks that it doesn’t know. Just as when it apologizes for pressing a button when a ball is shown to the other side. Our verbose left side bullies our silent right side as soon as words become involved. The left side literally does not know what the right is doing.

Case 4: Subject’s right hemisphere is developed in verbal response, thus both sides of the split brain can be interviewed. When subject is asked what he would like to be, the right hemisphere answers an automobile racer while the left wants to be a draftsman.

Not all right sides are mute, some have mastered words though they use them differently, they write with the shoulder and arm, and not with the fingers and wrists. They talk in poems not in grammar. And even if it remains mute, it can answer with pictures, the left hand can move pebbles, or place rings on pegs to grade emotions and provide answers to our questions. And there, the duality is revealed. The right and the left side each have its own dreams and its own emotions. One half might still be hurt by childhood bullying that the other half has forgotten ever happened. So, if each half of our brain has its own personality, is there any wonder that we so often feel conflicted ourselves? There is a theory that since each half of our face is controlled by a different half of the brain, we can get snapshots of our inner selves by taking our picture and mirroring it. Then we have portraits consisting of two left sides, or two right sides; one face for each hemisphere of the brain. Is one part of us happy while the other one is smirking? It is certainly food for thought.

Case 5: Subject is discussing with his wife when suddenly his left hand tries to slap her. The right hand intervenes to defend her.

Case 6: Subject’s right hand is trying to pull up his pants, while the left hand is trying to pull them down.

So what might this say about so many other aspects of failure to communicate in our lives? What about when we say one thing but mean another? Are we lying? Or are our hemispheres simply in disagreement? If someone never says anything positive, but expresses affection in gestures and touch, is the right side of the brain madly in love while the left is disinterested? And if someone speaks of eternal love but sleeps around every chance they get, which part of the brain is the problem here? When we say that we feel torn between two options, the answer might be more literal than we intended.

We might all do well to consider this the next time we get upset over reading something on the internet, or when someone misinterprets something we write online. The left side might have words, but the right side is the one that translates the emotional content of those words. In real life, our right hemisphere can supplement the words of the left with body language and nuance, but online there are only words. We are reduced to left <--> left brain communication, with no consideration for the emotions involved. It is easier to misunderstand, and to infer meanings to what is said online. Only our right hemisphere is involved after all, not the one of the other party. So listen to yourself. Pause long enough to judge what impression your words might give before throwing them out there in arguments and flame wars. And conversely, in real life, take a little time to try to find the words, even if you feel that there are none that can adequately express how you feel about the other person.

The right side might be mute but it does not need to be silent. The left side might be verbose, but it doesn’t need to be an asshole.

Failure to communicate is not inevitable.