Rare but Real: People Who Feel, Taste and Hear Color
By Ker Than
When Ingrid Carey says she feels colors, she does not mean she sees red, or
feels blue, or is green with envy. She really does feel them.
She can also taste them, and hear them, and smell them.
The 20-year-old junior at the University of Maine has synesthesia, a rare
neurological condition in which two or more of the senses entwine. Numbers and
letters, sensations and emotions, days and months are all associated with colors
for Carey.
The letter "N" is sienna brown; "J" is light green; the number "8" is orange;
and July is bluish-green.
The pain from a shin split throbs in hues of orange and yellow, purple and
red, Carey said.
Colors in Carey's world have properties that most of us would never dream of:
red is solid, powerful and consistent, while yellow is pliable, brilliant and
intense. Chocolate is rich purple and makes Carey's breath smell dark blue.
Confusion is orange.
Scientific acceptance
Long dismissed as a product of overactive imaginations or a sign of mental
illness, synesthesia has grudgingly come to be accepted by scientists in recent
years as an actual phenomenon with a real neurological basis. Some researchers
now believe it may yield valuable clues to how the brain is organized and how
perception works.
"The study of synesthesia [has] encouraged people to rethink historical ideas
that synesthesia was abnormal and an aberration," says Amy Ione, director of the
Diatrope Institute, a California-based group interested in the arts and
sciences.
The cause remains a mystery, however.
According to one idea, irregular sprouting of new neural connections within
the brain leads to a breakdown of the boundaries that normally exist between the
senses. In this view, synesthesia is the collective chatter of sensory neighbors
once confined to isolation.
Another theory, based on research conducted by Daphne Maurer and Catherine
Mondloch at McMaster University in Ontario, Canada, suggests all infants may
begin life as synesthetes. In this way of thinking, animals and humans are born
with immature brains that are highly malleable. Connections between different
sensory parts of the brain exists that later become pruned or blocked as an
organism matures, Mondloch explained.
Maurer and Mondloch hypothesize that if these connections between the senses
are functional, as some experiments suggest, then infants should experience the
world in a way that is similar to synesthetic adults.
In a variation of this theory, babies don't have five distinct senses but
rather one all-encompassing sense that responds to the total amount of incoming
stimulation. So when a baby hears her mother's voice, she is also seeing it and
smelling it.
Technology lags
Maurer and Mondloch's pruning hypothesis is intriguing, says Bruno Laeng, a
psychology professor at the University of Tromso, Norway. But he adds a caution.
"At present, we do not have the technology to observe brain-connection
changes in the living human brain and how these relate to mental changes,"
Laeng said in an email interview.
Like other scientists, Laeng also questions whether synesthesia needs such
extra neural connections in order to occur. Advancements in current brain
imaging techniques may one day allow the pruning hypothesis to be tested
directly, he said.
According to another theory that does not rely on extra connections,
synesthesia arises when normally covert channels of communications between the
senses are exposed to the light of consciousness.
All of us are able to perceive the world as a unified whole because there is
a complex interaction between the senses in the brain, the thinking goes.
Ordinarily, these interconnections are not explicitly experienced, but in the
brains of synesthetes, "those connections are 'unmasked' and can enter conscious
awareness," said Megan Steven, a neuroscientist at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical
Center.
Because this unmasking theory relies on neural connections everyone has, it
may explain why certain drugs, like LSD or mescaline, can induce synesthesia in
some individuals.
'Like I'm crazy'
Many synesthetes fear ridicule for their unusual abilities. They can feel
isolated and alone in their experiences.
"Most people that I'd explain it to would either be fascinated or look at me
like I'm crazy," Carey said. "Especially friends who were of a very logical
mindset. They would be very perplexed."
The study of synesthesia is therefore important for synesthetes, says Daniel
Smilek, an assistant psychology professor at the University of Waterloo in
Ontario, Canada.
Research is revealing synesthetes to be a varied bunch.
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Synesthesia is from the Greek syn (union) and the aisthesis
(sensation).
"If you ask synesthetes if they'd wish to be rid of it, they almost always
say no. For them, it feels like that's what normal experience is like. To have
that taken away would make them feel like they were being deprived of one
sense." -- Simon Baron-Cohen, synesthesia researcher at the University of
Cambridge
A group at MIT has a web page that shows how synesthetes might
perceive letters as having colors.
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Smilek and colleagues have identified two groups of synesthetes among those
who associate letters and numbers with colors, he explained in a telephone
interview. For individuals in one group, which Smilek calls "projector"
synesthetes, the synesthetic color can fill the printed letter or it can appear
directly in front of their eyes, as if projected onto an invisible screen. In
contrast, "associate" synesthetes see the colors in their "mind's eye" rather
than outside their bodies.
In Carey's case, the colors appear in quick flashes right behind her eyes,
blinking in and out of existence as quickly as ocean foam. Other times they
linger, coalescing and dividing like sunlight on the surface of a soap
bubble.
'No mere curiosity'
Other subgroups have also been identified.
The synesthesia of those in the "perceptual" category is triggered by sensory
stimuli like sights and sounds, whereas "conceptual" synesthetes respond to
abstract concepts like time. One conceptual synesthete described the months of
the year as a flat ribbon surrounding her body, each month a distinct color.
February was pale green and oriented directly in front of her.
Richard Cytowic, a neuroscientist and author of "The Man Who Tasted Shapes"
(Bradford Books, 1998), has watched the scientific shift in attitudes toward the
condition in recent years.
"Many of my colleagues claimed that synesthesia was 'made up' because it went
against prevailing theory," Cytowic said. "Today, everyone
recognizes synesthesia as no mere curiosity but important to fundamental
principles of how the brain is organized."