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What’s the Link between Creativity and Mental Illness?

August 14, 2014 by Joycelyn Campbell 1 Comment

Do the words tortured and genius go hand-in-hand? If you’re highly creative does that mean you’re more susceptible to mental illness? Do you, in fact, need to have a mental illness in order to be creative?

The link between creativity and mental illness has been a subject of discussion and speculation at least since Aristotle suggested there was one. More recently, it has been the subject of much scientific study. The topic is in the limelight once again due to Robin Williams’ suicide.

This edition of Brain & Mind Roundup (#5) links to four articles by, or citing the work of, Nancy Andreasen and Shelly Cooper, two researchers who study creativity and who have published books on creativity and the brain.

Click on the titles to read the full articles.

Secrets of the Creative Brain

Nancy Andreasen (The Atlantic)

Andreasen is a psychiatrist and neuroscientist who began exploring the anecdotal link between creativity and mental illness in the 1960s when she studied a group of writers from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. She writes:

I have spent much of my career focusing on the neuroscience of mental illness, but in recent decades I’ve also focused on what we might call the science of genius, trying to discern what combination of elements tends to produce particularly creative brains. What, in short, is the essence of creativity? Over the course of my life, I’ve kept coming back to two more-specific questions: What differences in nature and nurture can explain why some people suffer from mental illness and some do not? And why are so many of the world’s most creative minds among the most afflicted?

The Relationship between Creativity and Mental Illness

At brainpickings, Maria Popova provides a beautiful and thoughtful presentation of Nancy Andreason’s book The Creating Brain: The Neuroscience of Genius. Popova says:

One of the most interesting chapters in the book deals with the correlation between creativity and mental illness, bringing scientific rigor to such classic anecdotal examples as those evidenced in Van Gogh’s letters or Sylvia Plath’s journals or Leo Tolstoy’s diary of depression or Virginia Woolf’s suicide note. Having long opposed the toxic “tortured genius” myth of creativity, I was instantly intrigued by Andreasen’s inquiry, the backdrop of which she paints elegantly:

Did mental illness facilitate [these creators’] unique abilities, whether it be to play a concerto or to perceive a novel mathematical relationship? Or did mental illness impair their creativity after its initial meteoric burst in their twenties? Or is the relationship more complex than a simple one of cause and effect, in either direction?

And this is where the monumental importance of her study shines: What Andreasen found wasn’t confirmation for the “tortured genius” myth — the idea that a great artist must have some dark, tragic pathology in order to create — but quite the opposite: these women and men had become successful writers not because of their tortuous mental health but despite it.

The Real Link Between Creativity and Mental Illness

Scott Barry Kaufman (SciAm)

Scott Barry Kaufman, Scientific Director of The Imagination Institute and a researcher in the Positive Psychology Center at the University of Pennsylvania, investigates the measurement and development of imagination. He questions Andreason’s findings and looks deeper, writing:

The oft-cited studies by Kay Redfield Jamison, Nancy Andreasen, and Arnold Ludwig showing a link between mental illness and creativity have been criticized on the grounds that they involve small, highly specialized samples with weak and inconsistent methodologies and a strong dependence on subjective and anecdotal accounts.

Is there any germ of truth to the link between creativity and mental illness? The latest research suggests there is something to the link, but the truth is much more interesting.

It seems that the key to creative cognition is opening up the flood gates and letting in as much information as possible. Because you never know: sometimes the most bizarre associations can turn into the most productively creative ideas. Indeed, Shelley Carson and her colleagues found that the most eminent creative achievers among a sample of Harvard undergrads were seven times more likely to have reduced latent inhibition.

Latent inhibition is a filtering mechanism that we share with other animals, and it is tied to the neurotransmitter dopamine. A reduced latent inhibition allows us to treat something as novel, no matter how may times we’ve seen it before and tagged it as irrelevant. Prior research shows a link between reduced latent inhibition and schizophrenia.

Creativity and Psychopathology: A Shared Vulnerability Model

In this paper, Shelly Carson, Harvard researcher on creativity, psychopathology, and resilience, and author of The Creative Brain: Seven Steps to Maximize Imagination, Productivity, and Innovation in Your Life, reviews “the empirical evidence for an elevated risk of three disorders in creative individuals: mood disorders, schizospectrum disorders, and alcoholism.”

While creativity is considered a positive personal trait, highly creative individuals have demonstrated elevated risk for certain forms of psychopathology. [In] this paper I argue that a model of shared vulnerability explains the relationship between creativity and psychopathology. This model, supported by recent findings from neuroscience and molecular genetics, suggests that biological determinants that confer risk for psychopathology interact with protective cognitive factors to enhance creative ideation.

Carson

Elements of shared vulnerability include cognitive disinhibition (which allows increased stimuli into conscious awareness), an attentional style that is driven by novelty-salience, and neural hyperconnectivity that may increase associations among disparate stimuli. These vulnerabilities interact with superior meta-cognitive protective factors, such as high IQ, working memory capacity, and cognitive flexibility, to produce an enlarged body of stimuli that is available in conscious awareness to be manipulated and combined to form novel and original ideas.

~ ~ ~

Reading and writing about this topic inevitably makes me think of my partner, who died nearly 10 years ago. He had a very high IQ, good working memory, and great cognitive flexibility, all of which seem to have mitigated the vulnerability factors, which were also present. He was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, which wreaked some havoc in his early and mid-life before it was treated. At times, he was more than a little eccentric, with maybe a touch of mad genius about him. (Always interesting, that’s for sure!)

He was extremely creative, prolifically so, in a variety of areas–especially writing, art, and music–and he continued to be creative while he was on medication, which was very effective for him. So clearly his bipolar bent, if you will, didn’t cause him to be creative. But there was definitely a link there. Those areas of shared vulnerability were significantly moderated by medication, but also by his own awareness and self-monitoring. And maybe that’s something to take away from this, too. Self-awareness and self-monitoring are great tools for keeping us grounded even in the midst of our wildest flights of imagination.

Introducing the Manifesto

August 7, 2014 by Joycelyn Campbell 1 Comment

Company manifestos have become popular probably in part because they’re a lot more interesting than mission statements. The best manifestos are fun, visually appealing, and succinct. The worst spout interchangeable vague generalities—or at least seem to—and sacrifice quality for quantity, verbiage-wise.

I wanted to avoid those pitfalls. So in spite of the fact that I love words and fonts nearly equally, it took me quite a while to get around to creating a manifesto for Farther to Go! The specific content eluded me—until it didn’t. Just another example of how clarity makes the path ahead obvious.

When I sat down to put this together last weekend, it was effortless. I asked for feedback from a handful of people who are familiar with the work, and one person responded, “The courses in a nutshell.” After making a few minor tweaks, I sent it off to the printer.

For me, creating this was a great exercise in identifying what Farther to Go! is all about. It’s also a reminder of the many things I’ve learned along the way, some of which I need to relearn from time to time. I hope you enjoy it.

Click here to view the Farther to Go! manifesto at full size or to download it.

U Is for Unconscious

July 31, 2014 by Joycelyn Campbell 3 Comments

Three things we don’t like, all beginning with u: uncertainty, unsolved problems, and urgency. Combine the three and we’re likely to encounter another u word: uncomfortable. Actually, uncomfortable is putting it mildly. Our discomfort with the triumvirate of uncertainty, unsolved problems, and urgency is so strong we will go to great, sometimes absurd, lengths to avoid experiencing or even acknowledging it.

That’s…unfortunate. For at least two reasons.

First, in our haste to return to the illusory state of certainty, we tend to do things like jump to conclusions, accept the first answer or explanation that comes to mind (consistent with our preexisting beliefs), make a mess by acting prematurely, or immobilize ourselves in endless rounds of rumination. Rumination feels like problem-solving but it’s the opposite.

Second, by refusing to let ourselves experience—and appreciate—the discomfort that accompanies uncertainty, unsolved problems, and urgency, we deny ourselves another experience: the pure joy of the aha! moment when a solution presents itself. It may take a while, but suddenly what was murky and inchoate becomes bright and clear. The path ahead becomes obvious. I say the solution “presents itself” because although we tend to take credit for coming up with the brilliant idea or flash of insight, the part of our brain we identify with had little to do with it. It’s the unconscious that figured it out and then clued us in.

One of the reasons waiting it out while the unconscious does its thing makes us squirm is that we have no control over the process. It isn’t going to occur by the force of our will or on our timetable. When we try to make it happen we usually just end up getting in our own way and muddling the process.

Something that’s helped me develop an appreciation for—if not a wholehearted embrace of—uncertainty and the other u states is recognizing the times when I’m unclear or don’t have enough information. No matter how desperately I might want to act, if I’m not sure which action to take, I wait until the next thing to do becomes apparent.

That still makes me uncomfortable, and certainly no one would describe me as a patient person. But I’ve had enough of these experiences that I’ve come to expect an answer or a solution to show up. A pattern will be seen. Dots will be connected. I’ve learned to trust the unconscious part of my brain in these situations even though I can’t observe what it’s doing.

I’m learning to give credit where credit is due. After all, the hamster with the rudder (the conscious part of my brain) would go nowhere at all without the hamster on the wheel (the unconscious part of my brain).

It isn’t easy, but rather than trying to get back to comfortable and certain as quickly as possible, we can develop a tolerance for the discomfort. We can even learn to appreciate the uncertainty, the knottiness of an unsolved problem, and the urgency of the situation. Whatever is on the other side of our current distress is unimaginable to us now, but it could be amazing—even awesome. Why take the chance of missing out on something awesome just to avoid feeling a little uncomfortable?

How Do You Deal with Obstacles and Setbacks?

July 13, 2014 by Joycelyn Campbell 2 Comments

perseverance If there’s one sure bet we can all make, it’s that things won’t always go according to plan. Sometimes we drop the ball and other times external circumstances keep us from following through with our intentions.

Obstacles and setbacks are part of life. They don’t mean anything in and of themselves. We’re the ones who imbue them with meaning, such as using them as reasons for slacking off or giving up. If at first we don’t succeed, we might decide it’s just not worth the effort or that we don’t have what it takes. A more practical and realistic approach is to assume the path ahead won’t be a smooth, straight line and to figure out ahead of time how to respond to the twists, turns, and bumps we’re bound to encounter.

When it comes to our behavior, changing the brain’s programming isn’t easy. Acting deliberately and staying focused requires conscious attention, which is in short supply. When we try something new, we’re not going to be perfect right out of the gate—or ever. Perfection isn’t a worthy goal. It’s better to aim for doing better next time. Persistent effort will eventually persuade the brain that we really mean what we say.

But persevering doesn’t mean doggedly persisting. Sometimes there’s a good reason to stop attempting to do something. One of the benefits of paying attention is that we’re quicker to recognize when an intention needs to be adjusted or scrapped altogether. Sometimes we just need to pare it down and start with a baby step instead of a giant leap. Persevering means steadily moving toward the desired outcome regardless of setbacks or obstacles, adjusting course as you go.

Setbacks and obstacles are part of life. There’s no point bemoaning them, chastising ourselves, or making excuses. All we need to do is pick up where we left off and keep going. Most things in life aren’t a competition or a race. It doesn’t matter when we get there. All that matters is that we arrive.

Perseverance isn’t flashy or catchy or stylish. It’s often linked with discipline and endurance and sounds like something that’s good for you or that builds character. But perseverance is the key not only to reprogramming the brain’s autopilot, but to accomplishing anything of significance.

Habits of Behavior vs. Habits of Attention

July 10, 2014 by Joycelyn Campbell Leave a Comment

Last week poetdonald responded to my post What Do Your Habits Say About You? with this comment:

The following came to me as I was reading this post as well as your post on Mindfulness vs. Habits.

Let’s call this thinking out loud, Joycelyn. I’m going to pose 2 questions. I’m not ready to answer them, and I’m not sure if you are able to comment at this stage, but I feel it is important I ask and begin to explore them now.

For my Writing in Nature project, I am repeatedly going to sites and learning how to really see and thus write haiku. Eventually, I want to use what I learn to help others write haiku and connect with nature (for many, many reasons). Mindfulness is very important, as I need to pay attention—and at the same time be open—to my surroundings.

My two questions relating to this project…

1. Should I try to create habits to help with this process?

2. If I am not consciously creating habits, will I unconsciously be developing habits that will affect my seeing and writing?

These are such great questions! They got me thinking, first, about the distinction between habits of behavior and habits of attention. After that, I gravitated to looking at when we can best “use” habits to our advantage and when to avoid habits by focusing our attention intentionally. I hope this response will shed some additional light on the subject of habits.

Habits Are Habits

When we think or talk about habits, we’re usually referring to habits of behavior. Those are the habits that are the most obvious for us to see in both ourselves and other people. In fact, most advice about habits seems to assume those are the only kinds of habits we’re interested in changing. But after having explored this subject in considerable depth, I’ve concluded that behavioral habits are actually the easiest ones to deal with. There’s not much doubt as to whether we’re doing something or not doing it. We may not like what we see, but we can keep track of our behavior, either in the moment or after the fact.

Habits of attention, however less apparent they may be to us, are no less habitual than are habits of behavior. In both cases the unconscious brain (System 1) rather than the conscious brain (System 2) is directing us. System 1 takes in about 11,000,000 bits of information at a time, of which System 2 can process about 40. System 1 decides what information is important for us to notice and attend or respond to. It does this at a speed System 2 couldn’t hope to keep up with or replicate. So unless we make a conscious decision ahead of time as to where to direct our attention, System 1 will be making that decision for us. It can do so all day long, without much intervention from System 2.

So in response to poetdonald’s questions, I have two thoughts.

First: Develop as much of a routine as possible for going out to the sites in nature. Focus on creating the habit of doing so. That means identifying a trigger or cue (time of day, for example), following the same routine (although that doesn’t mean always going to the exact same place), and rewarding yourself for doing so. If you turn going out to these sites into a habit, you won’t have to waste any System 2 attention on the mechanics, whereas if you attempt to be flexible or spontaneous about going out to sites, you’ll be expending System 2 attention unnecessarily. Also, creating the habit of doing this will actually get your brain ready to pay attention and to write haiku.

Second: The kinds of habits you might unconsciously develop in regard to this venture are habits of attention, which are not the kinds of habits you want here. Habits of attention train the brain to always pay attention to this but not to that. You want to be conscious (using System 2) rather than unconscious so you can determine what to pay attention to. We all have the ability to train ourselves to be able to focus our attention, rather than allowing it to go wherever System 1 takes it.

Here are some excerpts from a very fine book on the subject, Rapt, Attention and the Focused Life, by Winifred Gallagher:

Paying rapt attention, whether to a trout stream or a novel, a do-it-yourself project or a prayer, increases your capacity for concentration, expands your inner boundaries, and lifts your spirits, but more important, it simply makes you feel that life is worth living.

Not only how you focus, but also what you focus on can have important neurophysiological and behavioral consequences.

Just thinking about paying attention affects your brain, revving it up for the actual experience.

Your neuron populations can represent pretty much anything, but not everything at once. You have to choose—or they do. (John Hopkins neuroscientist Steve Yantis)

New research…shows that what you pay attention to, and how, can actually change your brain and thus your behavior. This extraordinarily practical scientific breakthrough shows that like physical fitness, the mental sort that sustains the focused life can be cultivated.

To give yourself an opportunity to make the most out of your Writing in Nature venture, you might want to put System 1 to use to create the behavioral habit, which will then free up System 2 attention for you to focus intentionally. Recognizing the distinction between behavioral habits and habits of attention is important for any creative pursuit. It’s a waste of time and attention to have to think about and decide whether or not to perform an activity we’ve already determined we want to do. That attention is limited and could be put to much better use!

Poetdonald, thank you for asking such great questions. I’d really like to hear more about how this works out for you.

I’m also interested in hearing anyone else’s thoughts on the subject.