Welcome to the age of “Men in Black’s” neuralyzer.
A recent study conducted by UCSD neurologist Roberto Malinow proves it may be possible to alter human memory, allowing patients to have certain memories removed or restored. Malinow did so using rats as subjects, first using genetic engineering to render the rats sensitive to light and later exposing their synapses to pulses of light that were paired with a small electric shock to condition them to forget and recall the memory of the experiment, respectively. This finding has the potential to lessen and reverse the effects of Alzheimer’s disease as well as to help treat those suffering from depression and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but there’s no doubt this newfound knowledge can also be utilized in other ways. Those with the necessary funds could have painful memories from their past removed, granting them a metaphorical clean slate. It’s only a matter of time before this can be done. But should it?
Malinow’s research has proven that our memories can be turned on and off like a switch, using the right stimuli. This idea stems from the historic psychological breakthroughs made by Ivan Pavlov in the early 1900s. Most psychology students will remember “Pavlov’s Dogs,” canines that were eventually conditioned to salivate at the sound of a bell after repeated experiments associating the bell with the proffering of food by facilitators. Over time the dogs learned that the bell was somehow connected to food being given to them, and continued believing in this correlation (by salivating) at the sound of the bell alone.
But most are unaware that Pavlov conducted another experiment involving negative conditioning with another group of dogs. At the sound of the same bell, each dog was fed acid. Just as with the previous experiment, the dogs learned to associate the bell with a stimulus, in this case pain, panicking and shaking their heads incessantly as the bell sounded, even when no acid was administered. This was Manilow’s inspiration. Later studies in the 1980s brought the realization that the subject could essentially “forget” the association of sound and pain if the bell was sounded several times without any painful stimulus. Their memory of pain was replaced and rendered useless to the brain’s memory storage, and the same could soon be done to us.
This knowledge has clear benefits for those with PTSD and Alzheimer’s — those with the latter could restore memories while those with the former could remove parts of it — but what message are we sending if we choose to do so? That negative experiences should be ignored instead of embraced? That one should strive for a life free from adversity, removing the parts that don’t fit the “perfect” mold? The lessons we learn from heartbreak and grief are no less powerful than those learned from moments of joy, serving as vivid and meaningful mental markers that help us navigate through our future life experiences.
Memories don’t often exist only in a single person’s consciousness, and striking it from one man’s mind won’t delete it from existence, leading to potential conflict à la “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.” Removing the remembrance of disastrous historical events prevents us from learning from them, and in the case of human rights violations, abusers could wreak whatever havoc they wished, simply removing their victims’ remembrance of the event afterwards. In a practical sense, such a procedure could throw judicial trials as witnesses’ minds could be easily tampered with, memories altered and implanted at will.
This possibility carries societal significance as well, forcing us to ask us if our memories retain their validity when exposed to an outside source of control. If our minds can be controlled, can they be trusted? Studies like Malinow’s provide us with powerful insight into the way our minds work but with this knowledge comes an incredible amount of power. Power that should only be used — if ever — while remaining mindful of its implications.