Podcasts and the Global Brain
Thoughts on participating in the collective cognition of the planet
Hi there,
I recently appeared on the Yoga Talks podcast with J. Brown. You can listen to it directly below through Spotify, or via this link.
J read some of my Substack essays and felt like we were vibing on similar frequencies. After our conversation, I would have to agree. We are both trying to figure out what modern yoga looks like “beyond asana”, as it were. We had a lovely chat, and I think I managed to articulate some of my recent thinking about yoga, ritual and the natural world.
For those readers who signed up after listening to the podcast, welcome and thanks! I haven’t written anything for over a month, as I just recently returned from a lengthy vacation in Europe visiting friends and family. I hope to publish more regularly in the coming weeks.
In today’s essay, I’d like to pull on some threads of the broader podcasting phenomenon and see where they lead. I have been an avid podcast listener for many years, spending dog walks and long drives immersed in all manner of exotic ideaworlds. Sometimes I’ll dive into a single podcast, swimming through the back catalogue in order. Other times I skim my list of new episodes and intuitively choose something that resonates with my current concerns. Synchronicities and unexpected inspirations often result. (Perhaps a well-tended podcast list is akin to a Tarot deck, an oracle that delivers just the right message through aleatory means1?). Following references in the show notes often leads to other podcasts or Substacks, in an endless chain of discovery.
Listening to a podcast, especially on earbuds, is deceptively intimate. As you wash the dishes, you’re “right there” in the middle of a conversation between interesting, articulate, sometimes famous people… but you can never join the discussion.
Sure, some of my favorite podcasts have message boards where listeners and hosts discuss the episodes and other related topics. I’ve tried to hang out in a few of these, making yoga-adjacent comments here and there, but often find myself feeling outclassed by folks with more expertise and time to read obscure books. And the comment threads update so quickly; any contribution is quickly washed away by the next wave of commentary. A few smiling emojis on a post doesn’t quite satisfy my hunger to be heard.
So I was excited to receive J Brown’s invitation to be on his podcast, not just because it’s flattering, but also to fulfill my urge to participate. As I said in our discussion, I felt like a neuron who has received tons of incoming information but has limited chances to pass the signal along (this newsletter being one outlet, of course).
Quick neuroscience review: neurons receive signals from other neurons through their dendrites (the branches on the left side of the image), process them in ways that are more complex than previously imagined, then send along signals through their axons (long, bring horizontal lines) to other dendrites on other neurons. The image above is from the cerebral cortex, where lots of inputs get integrated. There are other types of neurons with different shapes and connection patterns. We have maybe 86 billion neurons in our brains, and about the same number of supporting cells (which are probably involved in cognition, too).
I am compelled by the notion that our information technology is gradually weaving humans and our sensing devices into a planetary nervous system, each of us neurons in a global2 brain. Is that weird? I suppose I like imagining that all our individual strutting and fretting might contribute to something grander. Of course, I’m assuming that this dawning earth intelligence is ultimately benevolent, or at least will take measures to ensure its own survival… something us humans are having trouble with at the moment. Participating in the podcast ecosystem feels like joining the sensemaking processes of the global brain.
Let’s consider what the metaphor of humans-as-neurons affords us.
Thanks to the march of technology, we are synapsing with many more sources of information than any time in recent history3. Our appetite for more input seems insatiable, thanks perhaps to an evolved preference for more information about our environment - where are the predators, where is the food? - rather than less. At the same time, we have more outlets than ever for passing signals along. No more tiresome waiting until another person comes within earshot, or receives our letter, or reads our editorial. Now, the lag between sensing and responding is just the time it takes to unlock the phone - now just with a glance!
So the global brain is more interconnected than ever. Information passes quickly from one side of the planet to another. The benefits are mixed, to put it mildly. We are more attuned to the planetary risks of climate change than ever. We are also subject to the reality-distorting effects of attention hacking from entities of all kinds, seeking to transmute viral swells of attention into likes, dollars, or political power.
I like to imagine that we can improve the mental health of the planetary mind by playing our role as neurons more consciously. Here’s a few tentative suggestions:
Curate your inputs according to your proclivities. Neurons are structurally diverse. Some integrate tons of inputs and send word to distant receivers. Others stay more local. All are necessary in a healthy brain. Dare I suggest it is not a moral failure if we don’t track every twist and turn of the news? Maybe our role is to be fascinated by permaculture, or free jazz, or fossils… or all three?
When we are driven by the same signals as everyone else, especially when they traffic in anger and fear, it increases the tendency for “excessive, hypersynchronous discharge of neurons in the [global] brain”, which happens to be the definition of a seizure4. Defying the algorithms and diversifying our inputs could decrease our vulnerability to collective manias.
The compulsion to “keep up” with the consensus datastream also prevents us from synapsing with analog sources of information that are vital for our individual and collective flourishing: the smell of a summer storm, the subtle grimace on a friend’s face, the empty taste of processed food. Our technology can’t record the somatic thrill of hearing the first cicadas on a hot July evening. If we want the global brain to care about the immeasurable beauty of the world enough to preserve it, it’s up to us humans to drink it in fully and let it inform what we say and do.
Resist immediacy, cultivate discernment. Countless PhD’s have devoted their lives to figuring out ways to compel you to stay engaged with their corporation’s digital products, mainly by convincing your nervous system that you must stay tuned to incoming signals at all times or you’ll miss something vital. Living in a state of twitchy reactivity does terrible things for our health, but also prevents us from “digesting” our experiences into more nuanced understanding that we can pass along.
If we slow down our urge to instantly respond to every ping and buzz, perhaps we can reduce the epileptic tendencies of the global brain (and our own learned ADHD). We also give ourselves more time to receive the slow wave signals that allow discernment. Am I really upset by this Twitter post, or just hungry and uncomfortable? Do I need to buy this alluring item or just go feel the evening breeze?
Side note: practices like yoga and meditation are well-suited for relearning how to pause before reacting.
Value and share your unique response while remaining modest. Our brain wouldn’t work very well if every neuron produced the same response to the same inputs. On the contrary, it is exactly the capacity of our neurons to develop their own unique “perspective” and communicate it with others that seems to underwrite complex cognition. We don’t all need to be experts to have something worth saying.
On the other hand, just because we each have a unique perspective to contribute doesn’t mean we are therefore speaking Absolute Truth that cannot be challenged (I’m looking at you, YouTubers!). We can only synapse with a finite number of incoming signals. We are all deluded by our inescapably-partial view of reality. It’s a tricky line to walk: honoring our own responses to the world while also holding them lightly, knowing they are biased by our circumstances and likely to change. This might be the crux of the human dilemma, actually.
If we are neurons in some larger mind, what matters is not the perfect “truth” of our words and actions, but rather that we are steadily sensing and responding. I take some comfort in this notion, that my sincere participation might be enough, even if I never write a book or found a nonprofit.
Thank you, reader, for receiving this broadcast. It’s the odd reality of public writing that I never know where my words will travel and what they may set in motion. Depending upon countless other inputs, perhaps you will share it with someone else, or leave a comment below, or maybe just meet your day a little differently. May its flavor permeate the global mind in a helpful way!
Want to enrich your sensory intake and live near Evanston?
Join me Thursday mornings for 75 minutes of communion with the forest and fields of Harbert Park. Click the image for details:
“Aleatory” is a lovely word meaning something determined through random means, such as throwing dice. I picked it up from the Weird Studies podcast, one of my current favorites.
Really interplanetary, if we include our telescopes and spacecraft.
I would also argue our forest-dwelling ancestors were likely attuned to much higher bandwidth input that us indoor-dwelling moderns.
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4448698/
As usual, Nick, another well-articulated and insightful piece of writing. I enjoyed your time on J Brown’s podcast. Your words were reassuring as I continue to reassess my own yoga teacher (and human being) journey. And up lifting, to boot! Thanks.