Apathy

Le Heron et al. (2018) defines apathy as a marked reduction in goal-directed behavior. But in order to move, one must be motivated to do so. Therefore, a generalized form of impaired motivation also hallmarks apathy.

The authors compiled for us a nice mini-review combing through the literature of motivation in order to identify, if possible, the neurobiological mechanism(s) of apathy. First, they go very succinctly though the neuroscience of motivated behavior. Very succinctly, because there are literally hundreds of thousands of worthwhile pages out there on this subject. Although there are several other models proposed out-there, the authors’ new model on motivation includes the usual suspects (dopamine, striatum, prefrontal cortex, anterior cingulate cortex) and you can see it in the Fig. 1.

145 apathy 1 - Copy
Fig. 1 from Le Heron et al. (2018). The red underlining is mine because I really liked how well and succinctly the authors put a universal truth about the brain: “A single brain region likely contributes to more than one process, but with specialisation”. © Author(s) (or their employer(s)) 2018.

After this intro, the authors go on to showcasing findings from the effort-based decision-making field, which suggest that the dopamine-producing neurons from ventral tegmental area (VTA) are fundamental in choosing an action that requires high-effort for high-reward versus a low-effort for low-reward. Contrary to what Wikipedia tells you, a reduction, not an increase, in mesolimbic dopamine is associated with apathy, i.e. preferring a low-effort for low-reward activity.

Next, the authors focus on why are the apathetic… apathetic? Basically, they asked the question: “For the apathetic, is the reward too little or is the effort too high?” By looking at some cleverly designed experiments destined to parse out sensitivity to reward versus sensitivity to effort costs, the authors conclude that the apathetics are indeed sensitive to the reward, meaning they don’t find the rewards good enough for them to move.  Therefore, the answer is the reward is too little.

In a nutshell, apathetic people think “It’s not worth it, so I’m not willing to put in the effort to get it”. But if somehow they are made to judge the reward as good enough, to think “it’s worth it”, they are willing to work their darndest to get it, like everybody else.

The application of this is that in order to get people off the couch and do stuff you have to present them a reward that they consider worth moving for, in other words to motivate them. To which any practicing psychologist or counselor would say: “Duh! We’ve been saying that for ages. Glad that neuroscience finally caught up”.  Because it’s easy to say people need to get motivated, but much much harder to figure out how.

This was a difficult write for me and even I recognize the quality of this blogpost as crappy. That’s because, more or less, this paper is within my narrow specialization field. There are points where I disagree with the authors (some definitions of terms), there are points where things are way more nuanced than presented (dopamine findings in reward), and finally there are personal preferences (the interpretation of data from Parkinson’s disease studies). Plus, Salamone (the second-to-last author) is a big name in dopamine research, meaning I’m familiar with his past 20 years or so worth of publications, so I can infer certain salient implications (one dopamine hypothesis is about saliency, get it?).

It’s an interesting paper, but it’s definitely written for the specialist. Hurray (or boo, whatever would be your preference) for another model of dopamine function(s).

REFERENCE: Le Heron C, Holroyd CB, Salamone J, & Husain M (26 Oct 2018, Epub ahead of print). Brain mechanisms underlying apathy. Journal of Neurology, Neurosurgery & Psychiatry. pii: jnnp-2018-318265. doi: 10.1136/jnnp-2018-318265. PMID: 30366958 ARTICLE | FREE FULLTEXT PDF

By Neuronicus, 24 November 2018

Intracranial recordings in human orbitofrontal cortex

How is reward processed in the brain has been of great interest to neuroscience because of the relevance of pleasure (or lack of it) to a plethora of disorders, from addiction to depression. Among the cortical areas (that is the surface of the brain), the most involved structure in reward processing is the orbitofrontal cortex (OFC). Most of the knowledge about the human OFC comes from patients with lesions or from imaging studies. Now, for the first time, we have insights about how and when the OFC processes reward from a group of scientists that studied it up close and personal, by recording directly from those neurons in the living, awake, behaving human.

Li et al. (2016) gained access to six patients who had implanted electrodes to monitor their brain activity before they went into surgery for epilepsy. All patients’ epilepsy foci were elsewhere in the brain, so the authors figured the overall function of OFC is relatively intact.

While recording directly form the OFC the patients performed a probabilistic monetary reward task: on a screen, 5 visually different slot machine appeared and each machine had a different probability of winning 20 Euros (0% chances, 25%, 50%, 75% and 100%), fact that has not been told to the patients. The patients were asked to press a button if a particular slot machine is more likely to give money. Then they would use the slot machine and the outcome (win 20 or 0 Euros) would appear on the screen. The patients figured out quickly which slot machine is which, meaning they ‘guessed’ correctly the probability of being rewarded or not after only 1 to 4 trails (generally, learning is defined in behavioral studies as > 80% correct responses). The researchers also timed the patients during every part of the task.

Not surprisingly, the subjects spent more time deciding whether or not the 50% chance of winning slot machine was a winner or not than in all other 4 possibilities. In other words, the more riskier the choice, the slower the time reaction to make that choice.

The design of the task allowed the researchers to observe three 3 phases which were linked with 3 different signals in the OFC:

1) the expected value phase where the subjects saw the slot machine and made their judgement. The corresponding signal showed an increase in the neurons’ firing about 400 ms after the slot machine appeared on the screen in moth medial and lateral OFC.

2) the risk or uncertainty phase, when subjects where waiting for the slot machine to stop its spinners and show whether they won or not (1000-1500 ms). They called the risk phase because both medial and lateral OFC had the higher responses when there was presented the riskiest probability, i.e. 50% chance. Unexpectedly, the OFC did not distinguish between the winning and the non-wining outcomes at this phase.

3) the experienced value or outcome phase when the subjects found out whether they won or not. Only the lateral OFC responded during this phase, that is immediately upon finding if the action was rewarded or not.

For the professional interested in precise anatomy, the article provides a nicely detailed diagram with the locations of the electrodes in Fig. 6.

The paper is also covered for the neuroscientists’ interest (that is, is full of scientific jargon) by Kringelbach in the same Journal, a prominent neuroscientist mostly known for his work in affective neuroscience and OFC. One of the reasons I also covered this paper is that both its full text and Kringelbach’s commentary are behind a paywall, so I am giving you a preview of the paper in case you don’t have access to it.

81 ofc - Copy

Reference: Li Y, Vanni-Mercier G, Isnard J, Mauguière F & Dreher J-C (1 Apr 2016, Epub 25 Jan 2016). The neural dynamics of reward value and risk coding in the human orbitofrontal cortex. Brain, 139(4):1295-1309. DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.1093/brain/awv409. Article

By Neuronicus, 25 March 2016