Candace Pert’s book, The Molecules of Emotion, is supposed to serve as a layman’s guide to understand the neuropeptides within our bodies. The book is not a scientific paper, nor is it entirely a biography. The Molecules of Emotion follows Candace Pert’s career in science and her eventual, climatic transformation through Eastern and metaphysical ‘alternative’ practices.
Pert’s journey through the discovery of the opiate receptor and her general career in science provides a commentary that is both scientific and personal in nature. Pert is able to relate to the reader much like a professor would to a student, commenting on how it used to be when she was making it through the ranks. The actual science involved in her book is explained precisely and in an easy to understand manner. I could hand my mother this book – and if she could make it through the long winded, often unnecessary details – she could understand the science that the author attempted to described.
Throughout most of the book, her style of commentary is not one that I enjoy. She tries to recreate conversations, but often does so in too much of a “book” format. An example of this exaggerated format can be found on page 269(hardcover edition, Chapter: Healing Feeling; Section: New Light on Depression), when Pert supposedly responds to a question about the adrenal glands. She claims to have said, “You’ve got it. Adrenaline is what causes the fight or flight alarm response, which is the body’s natural, unconscious reaction to threats…” and the way that the sentence is worded makes me think of a children’s television program explaining something to a child. Her other supposed conversational quotes are just as detached from the actual way that people speak as well.
Pert’s book, however, can be divided into two distinct parts: the science, and the metaphysical. When Pert’s new HIV drug is denied by all of the major pharmaceutical companies, and by pretty much every other source of funding, Pert undergoes a spiritual awakening. I don’t deny the significance of this experience to her, nor the potential validity of what she goes on to describe and hypothesize. However, her sudden lack of evidence regarding her hypotheses except to relate personal experience takes away some of the significance for the reader. Instead of making a point that can be applied to all of us, she remains on a personal level, suggesting that this happened to me and I want to tell you about it; not this happened to me, and it could happen to you, too.
Pert describes one sort of experience with a chiropractor, who was involved in brining emotional levels into their practice. She says that she has “Had some profound experiences while being treated with this method, involving the release of traumatic stored memories from the autonomic ganglia on either side of the spinal cord.” From here, she could have went on to describe how practitioners aim for this release during the sessions, or how other people that she knew had experienced the same thing. Similarly, she could have cited literature from the school of chiropractic on why, how, or if this sort of emotional release should happen. Instead, she moves directly onto another personal experience with a different healer (Page 178; Chapter: Healing Feeling).
Pert describes her emotions as being stored in parts of her body, and extends that hypothesis to anyone’s body. This theory is difficult to prove, and we must speculate, instead. After all, it is very hard to prove a bold claim such as emotions are stored in parts of the body. But even providing specific examples from various historical medicinal traditions would offer a certain cultural validity. Instead, Pert relies only on personal experience to communicate her ideas. It is often easier for a reader to understand “People from this tradition have historically thought that…” than simply stating, “I’ve used liver vitamin products…The results have convinced me that the possibility of turning back the clock…”(Page 283; Chapter: Truth) is not undoable. Instead of going on to prove the validity of liver cleansing products, she moves on.
I think the body/mind concept is a well accepted one in science today. As a member of the younger generation, I know that I have never been taught that the brain is separate. Perhaps, that the brain is the “control” center, but certainly always that the brain affects the body, and the body affects the brain. With psychosomatic disorders and the placebo effect being well documented, it is hard to see how the body and the mind are not connected.
It is a far reach for western medicine practices to say that organs “feel” emotions. I know that there are many spiritual traditions – chakra practices, Native American medicine, Yoga, Reiki – which recognize that emotions or issues are stored in organs. I think that, within reason, and described more specifically, the statement that organs “feel” emotions could be valid. However, I don’t necessarily think of my stomach being “afraid” when I am anxious. I do believe, for example, that recurring problems in my throat may be my body’s way (my subconscious, if you will) of telling me that I have issues communicating. This is a personal belief, however, and recognizing the implications of self-fulfilling prophecy is important when dealing with subjective realizations.
However, given the choices and power within self fulfilling prophecies, does that not provide a power over our bodies that we do not necessarily believe we have? Pert, for example, is told by Deepak Chopra that in order to get her AIDS drug research funded, she needs to let it go and stop trying so hard. She does let it go, and a person finally offers funding. Yet, was she really letting it go? Or did some part of her allow her to think that she was letting it go, while another part of her modified body language and mood to entice others to see her as interesting and a worthy candidate of funds?
Alternative therapies, to an extent rely on belief and self fulfilling prophecy in order to provide results. If someone attends an acupuncturist under the impression that “it’s a load of bull,” chances are that the effects that they feel will be at least diminished slightly. Going to one of these therapies acknowledges a belief, to some extent, of the validity. Then, when the practitioner has the consult and provides advice, whether it is “come back to see me in three weeks” or “you need to completely change your diet,” the information is there, in a patient’s head, and considered valid. If it was not considered valid, they would not have attended the consult in the first place.
Given a choice of alternative therapies, I would most likely enjoy a visit to a chiropractor. Although much of their practice has a metaphysical basis, the physical manipulations have been proven to aid subjects in decreasing pain. I have tendonitis in my wrists, and poor posture. A chiropractic readjustment would most likely be beneficial to my health and well being. As chiropractors are also sent through a graduate program, I would feel more confident in a standardized method of treatment. According to Pert, when she was beginning to look for a chiropractor, she commented that chiropractors had once been credible, but became less so with the invasion of medicines and surgery. She blamed western medicine for the previous downfall of public’s opinion on chiropractors.
The NIH’s NCCAM division recognizes chiropractic medicine as a tool which can aid back pain, neck pain, and headaches, although it does warn of some discomfort after visits. The NCCAM division also states on their website that there are ongoing current studies on the effectiveness of chiropractic medicine. In one study cited by NCCAM, patients reported most often “localized discomfort,” headache or tiredness at the end of a chiropractic session(Senstad et al 1997). Most (74%) of the reactions were gone within twenty four hours, showing that although side effects can occur, they are mild and gone shortly, providing a basis for weekly or monthly appointments.
If there was one part of Pert’s final “eight part program” that I would agree with most emphatically, it would definitely be the act of becoming conscious. Being aware of your surroundings, of what your body is telling you, and what other people are telling you, is an intuitive practice which can be most helpful. Although there is not really a set of chemicals to go along with “being conscious,” the benefits cannot be denied. When you become conscious, you slowly learn to master the environment that you are in, and not be subject to it.
Becoming conscious is especially important for athletes. Knowing when it is time to rest and when it is actually time to work hard, athletes can hone their fitness to the maximum level in a way that a personal trainer can’t do. If your body says that you need to rest – if the burst of energy behind your running is just not there – it may be time to do just that. Not resting at that point – not listening to your body at that point – could weaken your immune system, or cause any number of physical injuries resulting from not being healthy when beginning the exercise.
Becoming conscious and following other parts of Pert’s eight part program can also help an individual begin to recognize and deal with their addiction to emotions. Based on personal experience and psychology, itself, I would have to agree that being addicted to emotions is something which can and does happen to everyone. Grief is one emotion that we talked about in relation to depression, during class. We were to understand depression as lasting grief. Yet, the study in California that looked at people who were depressed and unable to deal with family member’s death from breast cancer showed that there was a definite dopamine release whenever pictures of the loved ones were shown. This study seems to correlate that idea that grief – and therefore, any emotional response – can be addictive just like alcohol or drugs.
Although I do not think Pert’s book is the new manual for learning about emotions, it does have some benefits. If you are unfamiliar with the basic nervous system, Pert’s book may be an easy, low stress way to find out more about the body and how it functions. If you are interested in a career in science, or in “what it was like back then,” as a student, you could read Pert’s book to get a feel for the NIH in earlier times. If you are interested in how the molecules relate to actual emotions – other than brief interspersed paragraphs about what neuropeptides influence what emotions, you won’t get much out of the book in terms of science or how each emotion is linked to a chemical. All in all, I believe the book was educational, although a bit on the boring side. It was definitely not what I thought it would be when I initially picked the book up.
Works Cited
Pert, Candace. 1997. The Molecules of Emotion. Scribner Publishing.
Senstad O, Leboeuf-Yde C, Borchgrevink C. 1997. Frequency and characteristics of side effects
of spinal manipulative therapy. Spine: 435-440.
