Scarlett Johansson in the film Lucy (Columbia Pictures)
We often talk of having five senses as a universal truth. In reality,
there may be more – or fewer – depending on the way you look at the
question. Christian Jarrett explains the controversy.
Some myths about the brain, such as the idea we only use 10% of our
grey matter, are notorious, especially among neuroscientists. These
myths crop up every now and then (look at the premise of the Lucy movie this summer), but they are quickly shot down by those in the know.
In
contrast to these enduring stories, other misconceptions are stealthier
and slip beneath the radar unrecognised. One of these is the idea that
the human brain is served by five senses. This belief is so ingrained
that even the scientifically literate will treat it as taken-for-granted
common knowledge.
Perhaps it is due to the idea’s noble origins.
The principle of five basic human senses is often traced back to
Aristotle’s De Anima (On the Soul), in which he devotes a separate
chapter to vision, hearing, touch, smell and taste. Today, the five
senses are considered such an elementary truth that it is sometimes used
as a point of consensus before writers embark on more mysterious or
contentious topics. “What do we actually mean by reality?” asked the
author of a recent article in New Scientist magazine. “A straightforward answer is that it means everything that appears to our five senses.”
Incoming information
If
only it were that simple. Simply defining what we mean by a “sense”
leads you down a slippery slope into philosophy. One, somewhat vague,
definition might argue that a human sense is simply a unique way for the
brain to receive information about the world and the body. If that is
the case, then we can claim with confidence that there are certainly
more than five human senses.
First consider the senses that relate
to the position of our bodies. Close your eyes, and then touch your
right forefinger to your left elbow tip. Easy? How did you do it?
Somehow you knew where the end of your finger was and you also knew the
position of your left elbow. This sense is known as proprioception and
it’s the awareness we have of where each of our body parts is located in
space. Proprioception is possible thanks to receptors in our muscles
known as spindles, which tell the brain about the current length and
stretch of the muscles.
(Getty Images)
Now imagine you are blindfolded and I tilted you
forwards slowly. You’d immediately have a sensation of how your body’s
position was changing in relation to gravity. This is thanks to the fluid-filled vestibular system
in your inner ear, which helps us keep balance. This system also gives
us our experience of acceleration through space, and it links up with
the eyes, making it possible to cancel out our own motion. If you wiggle
your head around while reading, for example, you’ll see that it makes
little difference to your ability to read and stay focused on the words.
There
are also numerous senses providing us with information about the inner
state of our bodies. The most obvious of these are hunger and thirst,
inner body pain, and the need to empty the bladder or bowel. Less
obvious and less available to conscious awareness are incoming signals
about blood pressure, the pH level of the cerebrospinal fluid, plus many
more.
Some might take that definition further, to argue that the
senses should be defined by the types of receptors we have; a different
sensor means a different sense. If that were the case, then even
well-known senses quickly split into different varieties. For instance,
if you closed your eyes and I surprised you with an ice cube down your
back, you’d experience a shock of cold. This sensation would be distinct
from the mere touch of a plastic cube, say. Alongside
temperature-sensitive receptors, packed in our skin we also have
receptors dedicated to mechanical pressure, pain (known as nociceptors)
and itch (pruritic receptors). Using the same logic, however, taste can
be divided into sweet, sour, salty and bitter and potentially “umami”,
which is activated by monosodium glutamate and is associated with a
“meaty” flavour. Splitting the senses in this way doesn’t feel like the
most intuitive way of dealing with the question, however, and it becomes
even more absurd if we turn to smell: humans have over 1,000 distinct
olfactory receptors tuned to different odorous molecules. Should each
one be counted as a different sense?
Your senses often blend, so that what you see can influence what you taste (Getty Images)
At the other extreme, you could restrict our
definition of discrete sense to the physical categories of incoming
information. We can simplify the human senses down to just three –
mechanical (which takes in touch, hearing and proprioception); chemical
(including taste, smell and internal senses); and light.
Yet
another way of approaching this issue is to think not about the category
of incoming information or the perceptual experience, but about how
incoming sensory information is used. A great example is the human
capacity for echo-location. Human echo-location works by a person
emitting a clicking sound with the tongue and listening for how it
rebounds off the immediate environment. In the USA there is even a
remarkable team of blind cyclists – Team Bat – led by Daniel Kisch, who
use echo-location to go mountain biking (see www.worldaccessfortheblind.org
for videos). This ability depends on the traditional sense of hearing,
but the perceptual experience and function is more akin to vision. You
don’t need to be blind to try it; even sighted people can learn to “see in the dark” using echo-location. For these reasons, some consider it a separate sense.
As you can see, there is no single, logical way to
define the senses. In some ways, it might make little sense to draw
divisions between them at all – considering that they often seem to
blend together; the colour of food – and even the sounds of a restaurant
– can influence taste, for instance. Understanding these relationships
is important when studying conditions like synaesthesia and could even
shed light on consciousness itself.
But whichever way you look at
it, five is a pretty arbitrary and meaningless number – a glaring “myth”
of the brain that needs further recognition. Indeed, once you start
thinking about all the different kinds of information reaching the human
brain, you might even find that you develop a brand new sense – a
radar-like sensitivity to some of the other misconceptions regarding the
way the brain experiences the world. You might have once called it a
“sixth sense” – but you know better now, don’t you?
This article is based on a chapter from Christian Jarrett’s new book Great Myths of the Brain (Wiley).
0 comments :
Post a Comment