Cognitive liberty and right to one's mind

We've been having a great discussion here at Sentient Developments on cognitive liberty and neurodiversity thanks to our guest blogger, Casey Rae-Hunter. Be sure to check out his recent posts, "Neuroplasticity and Coordinated Cognition: the Means of Self-Mastery?", "Neurodiversity vs. Cognitive Liberty", "Neurodiversity vs. Cognitive Liberty, Round II."

I'd now like to take a moment and address some issues as they pertain to cognitive liberty, a topic that I believe will start to carry some heavy implications in the near future.

Cognitive liberty is not just about the right to modify one's mind, emotional balance and psychological framework (for example, through anti-depressants, cognitive enhancers, psychotropic substances, etc.), it's also very much about the right to not have one's mind altered against their will. In this sense, cognitive liberty is very closely tied to freedom of speech. A strong argument can be made that we have an equal right to freedom of thought and the sustained integrity of our subjective experiences.

Our society has a rather poor track record when it comes to respecting the validity of certain 'mind-types'. We once tried to "cure" homosexuality with conversion therapy. Today there's an effort to cure autism and Asperger's syndrome -- a development the autistic rights people have railed against. And in the future we may consider curing criminals of their anti-social or deviant behaviour -- a potentially thorny issue to be sure.

There are many shades of gray when it comes to this important issue. It's going to requiring considerable awareness and debate if we hope to get it right. Your very mind may be at stake.

Neuroethical conundrums

Forced cognitive modification is an issue that's affecting real people today.

Aspies for Freedom claims that the most common therapies for autism are exactly this; they argue that applied behaviour analysis (ABA) therapy and the forced suppression of stimming are unethical, dangerous and cruel, as well as aversion therapy, the use of restraints and alternative treatments like chelation. Jane Meyerding, an autistic person herself, has criticized any therapy which attempts to remove autistic behaviors which she contends are behaviors that help autistics to communicate.

As this example shows, the process of altering a certain mind-type, whether it be homosexuality or autism, can be suppressive and harsh. But does the end justify the means? If we could "cure" autistics in a safe and ethical way and introduce them to the world of neurotypicality should we do it? Many individuals in the autistic/Asperger's camp would say no, but there's clearly a large segment of the population who feel that these conditions are quite debilitating. Not an easy question to answer.

This is an issue of extreme complexity and sensitivity, particularly when considering other implications of neurological modification. Looking to the future, there will be opportunities to alter the minds of pedophiles and other criminals guilty of anti-social and harmful behaviors. Chemical castration may eventually make way to a nootropic or genetic procedure that removes tendencies deemed inappropriate or harmful by the state.

Is this an infringement of a person's cognitive liberty?

Neuroconformity vs. neurodiversity

Consider the deprogramming of individuals to help them escape the clutches of a cult. The term itself is quite revealing: notice that it's deprogramming, not reprogramming -- a suggestion that the person is being restored to a pre-existing condition.

But what about those cases like pedophilia or autism where there is no pre-existing psychological condition for those persons, save for whatever mind-state society deems to be appropriate? This is the (potential) danger of neuroconformism, the evil flipside to neurodiversity. Without a broad sense and appreciation for alternative mind-types we run the risk of re-engineering our minds into extreme homogeneity.

Now I'm not suggesting that we shouldn't treat sociopaths in this way. What I'm saying is that we need to tread this path very, very carefully. Manipulating minds in this way will have an irrevocable impact on a person's sense of self. In a very profound way, a person's previous self may actually be destroyed and replaced by a new version.

For us Buddhists this doesn't tend to be a problem as we deny the presence of a singular and immutable self; what we can agree on, however, is that our agency in the world is heavily impacted by our genetics and environment which leads to a fairly consistent psychology -- what we call personalities and tendencies. In most cases, we tend to become attached to our personality and tendencies -- it's what we like to call our 'self.' And it's perfectly appropriate to want to retain that consistent sense of self over time.

So, if one applies a strict interpretation of cognitive liberty, a case can be made that a sociopath deserves the right to refuse a treatment that would for all intents-and-purposes replace their old self with a new one. On the other hand, a case can also be made that a sociopathic criminal has forgone their right to cognitive liberty (in essence the same argument that allows us to imprison criminals and strip them of their rights) and cannot refuse a treatment which is intended to be rehabilitative.

I am admittedly on the fence with this one. My instinct tells me that we should never alter a person's mind against their will; my common sense tells me that removing sociopathic tendencies is a good thing and ultimately beneficial to that individual. I'm going to have to ruminate over this one a bit further...

As for autistism, however, I'm a bit more more comfortable suggesting that we shouldn't force autistics into neurotypicality. At the very least we should certainly refrain from behavior therapy and other draconian tactics, but I have nothing against educating autistics on how to better engage and interact with their larger community.

And to repeat a point I made earlier, we should err on the side of neurodiversity and a strong interpretation of cognitive liberty. The right to our own minds and thoughts is a very profound one. We need to be allowed to think and emote in the way that we want; the potential for institutions or governments to start mandating to us what they consider to be "normal thinking" is clearly problematic.

So fight for your right to your mind!

Neurodiversity vs. Cognitive Liberty, Round II

Casey Rae-Hunter is guest blogging this month.

I've taken some hits on my recent post about the possible differences (semantic and conceptual) between neurodiversity and cognitive liberty. Some of them have happened outside of the hallowed Sentient Developments grounds, as one particular individual does not cotton to the Blogger/Google comments protocol here at SD.

Mostly, the arguments have centered on a), my lack of specificity in articulating clear differences between the two terms and b), my assumption that those with Aspserger's Syndrome may be using neurodiversity as an excuse to advocate for an aggressive "hands-off" approach to neurological governance.

I'm writing this follow-up post to (hopefully) better explain why I think that neurodiversity and cognitive liberty — while sharing some similarities — are quite different animals.

Perhaps the best way to do this is to not focus on neurodiversity, as it can mean quite a few different things depending on your politics. At this point in history, theories of cognitive liberty will no doubt sound Philip K. Dick-ian, but it's never too early to start pondering the ethical and regulatory frameworks that impact societal attitudes and individual outcomes. In fact, George did a great job of itemizing these issues just the other day.

In case you missed it, below are my initial Principles for Cognitive Liberty, which I have expanded and clarified. Below that is a paragraph that should better illustrate some differences between neurodiversity and cognitive liberty (keep in mind that there are plenty of similarities).

1. Cognitive liberty is the basic right of an individual to pursue potentially beneficial psychological/neurological trajectories. If the individual is unable to make these choices themselves, than it is the right of their closest family members to make them, provided they are not coerced by the medical establishment or prevailing social strata.

2. Cognitive liberty recognizes that information and education are key to making informed choices. In the absence of such information, cognitive libertarians will advocate for the fullest range of data in when considering treatment options or lifestyle planning.

3. Cognitive liberty recognizes the range of psychological profiles in both the neurotypical world and otherwise. Until and unless an individual's psychology can be determined as infringing on another individual's cognitive liberty, they are free to pursue or not pursue strategies for conventional adaptation, possible enhancement or any other cognitive application — actual or postulatory.

4. Cognitive liberty recognizes the right to pharmacological experimentation, within existing legal structures. Where those structures are not beneficial or unnecessarily inhibit potentially useful individual research, cognitive libertarians reserve the right to challenge legal frameworks (and, where appropriate and with full comprehension of the punitive risks, step beyond them).

5. Cognitive liberty recognizes the essential function of the governmental regulatory apparatus, but places others' cognitive liberty ahead of the societal, legal or bureaucratic status quo. Through education, research and advocacy, cognitive libertarians can and should present information to policymakers that will enhance governmental comprehension of current and emerging issues. Where decisions are made, they must be transparent and open to debate.

6. Cognitive liberty is not an outlier of the neurodiversity movement. It is a separate, but complimentary effort to enhance understanding about the range of possibilities in self-directed cognition.

Once again, let's look at why this is different than neurodiversity.

A) Neurodiversity does not necessarily include an ethical framework for enhancement or targeted augmentation.

B) Neurodiversity may not currently recognize the efficacy of ethical "uplift" for the benefit of enhanced (or even equal) powers of cognition. Cognitive liberty leaves room for these discussions, while not advocating specifically for one or another approach.

C) Neurodiversity offers a necessary framework for human rights within the neurological and psychological spectrum, in which neurological pluralism is part of a new social contract. Cognitive liberty is not in opposition to these tenets, but is perhaps more concerned with the essential right of sentient beings to play an active part in shaping their cognitive destiny by available means.

This post may open a whole 'nother can of worms, but I certainly embrace any conversation or debate it inspires!

Casey Rae-Hunter is a writer, editor, musician, producer and self-proclaimed "lover of fine food and drink." He is the Communications Director of the Future of Music Coalition — a Washington, DC think tank that identifies, examines, interprets and translates issues at the intersection of music, law, technology and policy. He is also the founder and CEO of the Contrarian Media Group, which publishes The Contrarian and Autistic in the District — the latter a blog about Asperger's Syndrome.

Neurodiversity vs. Cognitive Liberty

Casey Rae-Hunter is guest blogging this month.

Part of the great debate that has come to characterize current assignments within the autism spectrum has centered on the concept of neurodiverity, which is, to my understanding, an umbrella term that connotes a desire to respect the neurological integrity of individuals. However, it has come to mean more to some with Asperger's Syndrome — particularly those adult "aspies" whose self-definition and place in the world may be hard won, to say the least.

It is somewhat difficult to have a cogent argument about neurodiversity at this stage in history, due to the relative newness of the Asperger's diagnosis. The sociological impact of having an entire generation of adults coming to grips with the existence of an autistic spectrum (and their place within it) can not be overstated. These are early days for aspie advocacy, so it's to be expected that some within this community, having suffered a broad array of indignities, would want to assert themselves through what they see as favorable self-categorization. To others, however, it may be interpreted as elitism.

Many adults with Asperger's (such as myself) did not have the benefit of social or scholastic acceptance of their differences. My own burdens were lightened considerably by my eventual AS diagnosis, but I'm sure for some this is not the case. Keep in mind that Asperger's is an autistic spectrum disorder — if you've met one aspie. . . you've met one aspie. I've heard some real horror stories of tragic childhoods, miserable school experiences and failed relationships, so I understand why some folks with AS may feel a certain degree of embitterment towards the neurotypical world. And it's definitely easy to retreat into a fantasy where you're the "superior" and everyone else just doesn't "get it."

Perhaps an analogy can be drawn to the feminist movement of the early 1960s. Having endured years of societal repression — if not outright abuse — at the hands of a patriarchal status quo, was it any wonder that some self-identifying feminists pushed the envelope of diplomatic conversation with larger society? My opinion is that some in the AS community are having their "I am Aspie, hear me roar" moment.

Well intentioned as such advocacy may be, it seems unfair to champion "neurodiversity" when there are people with, ahem, "lower functioning" autism who struggle greatly with their neurological lot. Families of autistic individuals may actually prefer a "cure" to this condition, as it's preferable to a lifetime of social stigma, behavioral outbursts and isolation. From that perspective, "fixing autism" looks pretty compassionate.

For those on the Asperger's side of the spectrum, the idea that aspies should be "cured" — likely through medical, societal or familial coercion — is as offensive as it gets. As we piece together the historic record of autism, it's clear that a shocking number of the most influential minds of the last several centuries may indeed have had Asperger's Syndrome: Nikola Tesla, Albert Einsten, Andy Warhol, Mozart. . . the speculative list goes on and on. If you'd suffered a lifetime of mistreatment by peers and ostracizing in romance or the workplace, wouldn't you want to self-identify with such titans of mentation? And who's to say that the increase in diagnosed Asperger's isn't just due to better clinical testing? Perhaps it's an evolutionary advantage — wouldn't our digital era favor adaptive traits that reward certain kinds of functioning? Ever wonder why there's so many aspie kids in Silicon Valley? Born to code, indeed.

On the other hand, this could all be a scientific canard.

It's probably better and more helpful to examine the meaning of cognitive liberty — which is to say, the right to psychological self-determination, based on robust informational resources and stratified by some level of societal tolerance. Before you say, "hey, that sounds like neurodiversity," consider my handy Principles of Cognitive Liberty:

1. Cognitive liberty is the basic right of an individual to pursue beneficial psychological trajectories. If the individual is unable to make these choices themselves, than it is the right of their closest family members to make them, provided they are not coerced by the medical establishment or prevailing social strata.

2. Cognitive liberty recognizes that information and education are key to making informed choices. In the absence of such information, cognitive libertarians will advocate for the fullest range of data in when considering treatment options or lifestyle planning.

3. Cognitive liberty recognizes the range of psychological profiles in both the neurotypical world and otherwise. Until and unless an individual's psychology can be determined as infringing on another individual's cognitive liberty, they are free to pursue or not pursue strategies for conventional adaptation or any other panacea — actual or postulatory.

What do you think about neurodiversity vs. cognitive liberty? How practical is either?

Casey Rae-Hunter is a writer, editor, musician, producer and self-proclaimed "lover of fine food and drink." He is the Communications Director of the Future of Music Coalition — a Washington, DC think tank that identifies, examines, interprets and translates issues at the intersection of music, law, technology and policy. He is also the founder and CEO of the Contrarian Media Group, which publishes The Contrarian and Autistic in the District — the latter a blog about Asperger's Syndrome.

Neuroplasticity and Coordinated Cognition: the Means of Self-Mastery?

Casey Rae-Hunter is guest blogging this month.

Back in July 2009, I read a fantastic article in the New Yorker about VM Ramachandran — a man referred to by many as a "rockstar of neuroscience." As a youth growing up in India, Ramachandran — henceforth referred to by his nickname, "Rama" — was obsessed with magic tricks and illusions. A self-described solitary child, Rama's prodigious intellect led to his becoming a scientific polymath. Yet he ultimately settled on neuroscience.

Why do I bring him up? Well, as John Colapinto's article reveals, Rama is a very interesting individual, whose nonconformist bent and penchant for black clothing gives him the air of a scientific renegade. The doctor's work has of late focused on apotemnophilia — the compulsion to have a healthy limb amputated. This mental affliction was previously thought incurable, but Rama's unorthodox method of treatment has yielded impressive results in patients who had more or less given up on a fix. The solution is devilishly simple, and one familiar to stage magicians throughout history: it's done with mirrors.

Rama is at the forefront of so-called "mind-mapping," in which the brain auto-repairs damaged connections through certain inputs, in this case a mirror reflection of a healthy appendage, processed optically and reinforced synaptically. Rama also treats amputees who struggle with "phantom limb syndrome" — his theories of brain plasticity have already paid dividends for many chronic sufferers.

The article also suggests a link between autism and defects in the mirror neuron system. This is where things get very complicated, and, as a non-scientist, I should probably refrain from making any sweeping generalizations.

Yet the so-called "plastic brain" and the ability to effectively re-map cognitive protocols is a subject I find endlessly fascinating. Growing up, I had major anger management issues, likely as a result of frustrations in dealing with undiagnosed Asperger's Syndrome. ( You can read in more detail about my tortured relationship with academia here.) In my early twenties, I did a lot of self medicating, to dubious effect. Around the age of 25, I discovered Buddhism. Learning to meditate was one of the most difficult undertakings of my life, but I threw myself into the practice with great determination and gusto.

I'm not sure how or when it happened, but the anger I'd been carrying around largely dissipated. At that point, I began collecting anecdotal and occasionally even scientific evidence about meditation's relationship to cognitive enhancement. There is an ever-increasing amount of science backing up my own anecdotal experiences with meditation, including actual evidence of physiological changes in the brain. (Check out this Buddhist Geeks podcast with academic neurologist and Zen practitioner James Austin for some more examples.)

So, having experienced some of the positive effects of mind-mapping through the discipline of meditation (and attendant Buddhist practices like tonglen and mindfulness), I became more curious about what I've come to call call "coordinated cognition." However, as a skeptic, I have a natural aversion to self-help gobbledegook that masquerades as "enlightenment." After all, Buddhism is about spontaneous undifferentiated awareness, not having the healthiest brain on the block (though there's nothing wrong with that).

So what's the limit, if any, to the mind's plasticity?

As an individual with Asperger's Syndrome, I deal daily with the fact that my mind is literally wired differently than the majority of humans. Yet I'm convinced that environment and patterning has a huge impact on outcomes for individuals on the autistic spectrum. For example, I've been publicly performing for nearly as long as I can remember, which may have aided my ability to "blend" — mimicry is a prized skill in both acting and music. So my mind has, to some degree, already been optimized for certain conditions. But is there other stuff I can do to dampen the "negative" Aspergian traits and amplify the more favorable ones?

At the moment, I have no hard and fast answers, but color me curious.

In my next post, I plan to look at the issue of cognitive liberty — that is, the right to psychological self-determination. As the neurodiversity debate continues to rage in the autistic community, I think it's important for people to feel empowered to choose what works best for them. All we can do is be clear-headed and compassionate advocates for a range of possibilities. The rest is up to the individual.

On the road to a truly diverse cognitive landscape, we may need to look at ourselves from a several different perspectives. Remember, it's done with mirrors.

Casey Rae-Hunter is a writer, editor, musician, producer and self-proclaimed "lover of fine food and drink." He is the Communications Director of the Future of Music Coalition — a Washington, DC think tank that identifies, examines, interprets and translates issues at the intersection of music, law, technology and policy. He is also the founder and CEO of the Contrarian Media Group, which publishes The Contrarian andAutistic in the District — the latter a blog about Asperger's Syndrome.