This is Your Brain on Jane Austen

I am a school psychologist by training and currently work in the role of middle school behavior resource specialist. I work with teachers to implement evidence-based strategies to support students with significant social, emotional, learning, and behavioral difficulties. Over my 14 years in the field, I've provided individual and group counseling (including crisis counseling after a school shooting), worked to have students placed in psychiatric hospital settings, written safety and behavior plans, and observed students engaging in some of the most erratic behaviors. I've also closely observed the behavior of students and teachers who not only thrive but excel. 

With undergraduate and graduate degrees in psychology, I have long been fascinated by how the mind works and how people behave. My college education included a variety of classes ranging from personality characteristics, cognitive development, neuropsychology, applied behavior analysis, interpersonal relations, human sexuality, and abnormal psychology. You might reasonably ask what any of this has to do with Jane Austen? As I've grown to know more and more individuals who admire her work and have taken their admiration to the next level (e.g., via reading JA related fan fiction, participating in Jane Austen Society of North America (JASNA) meetings/events, and immersing themselves in regency costuming, etc.), I began to wonder whether we truly shared a similar turn of mind. Stated differently, if and how might our brains be similarly wired?

I have a (luckily well controlled) seizure disorder. As such, I have been under the care of a neurologist for many years. Just this past summer, I experienced some new neurological symptoms that required testing including a Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI) scan. While thinking of the composition and functioning of my brain, I conducted a simple, random Google search of the terms "Jane Austen" and "brain." That search yielded the following image (right) and a 2012 story from National Public Radio (NPR) titled, "Lively Mind: Your Brain on Jane Austen" (NPR Story). It is a worthwhile read that examines the nature of Elizabeth Bennet's lively mind and how Jane's incisive depiction of Lizzy's mental 

processes might be more aligned with our contemporary neuroscientific understanding than she could have ever known. NPR is not the only media outlet to explore this general topic. A similar story posted by Salon.com (Salon Story) also describes the study conducted by Stanford University. Hilariously, it asks, "How does one even read a book in an MRI machine?" Having recently undergone a scan, I must say this is a very good question indeed given the fact that the test required me to remain completely still for an extended period of time while my full (in every sense of the word) body was squeezed into an impossibly narrow tube.

As I continued to ponder this topic, my thoughts harkened back to my early childhood. I recently celebrated my 38th birthday. I realize I'm not "old," but I often joke that I'm no longer a "young adult" but, rather, just a plain ol' adult. I notice this more and more in my professional life as I make older pop culture references during staff meetings that result in blank expressions and silence so pronounced that I could almost hear the sound of *crickets* as I looked around the table for any sign of recognition. It's hard to believe that many new teachers fresh out of school were born in 1998. Wowza! But, I digress. I have many memories of pop culture phenomena from the 1980s. One that has always stuck with me is the ubiquitous Partnership for a Drug-Free America ad on the irreversible effects of drugs on the brain. If you're old enough to recall the ad, you likely now see where the title of this post originated. If you can't quite recall the add (I'm looking at you whipper snappers), feast yours eyes (40 second brain on drugs video).                             

I would love to hear your thoughts on Jane Austen's work and the human brain. I have no doubt this line of thought could go on and on and yield even more fascinating insights and avenues for future inquiry. One thing I feel confident about is that, unlike drugs, our brains on Jane Austen are far from "fried." If anything, they are strengthened and are forming new and increasingly active neuropathways. Who knows? One day in the not so distant future, scientists might discover that those of us who are addicted to all things Jane Austen may in fact be the next step in the evolution of the human race. Until then, stay cool my friends and may you live long and prosper in thoughts befitting our dear Jane.