Perchance to learn
25 Sep 99
Not getting enough shut-eye? Then you're cheating your brain
out of the eight hours it needs to learn properly. Helen Phillip
eavesdrops on the night long seminar inside your head
HAVE you ever gone to bed frustrated that you couldn't solve a
problem, and then seen the answer straight away the next morning in
an eerie moment of clarity? Perhaps it was the final clue of a
crossword puzzle, or a face you couldn't put a name to during the
day. You might notice something similar with a more physical
challenge-a tough piece of music you were trying to learn, say-which
magically seemed much easier after you'd slept on it. Did you assume
you were just too tired to get things right the night before, or did you
conclude that you'd worked things out in your dreams?
Scientists have been suggesting links between dreams and memories
for two centuries, and many are now convinced that memories from
your day become fixed or consolidated as you dream. But by
revisiting these memories while you slumber, can you actually work
out a problem or carry on learning something? Some researchers think
so-and not just during the two or so hours of the night you spend
dreaming.
Robert Stickgold, a cognitive neuroscientist in the department of
psychiatry at Harvard Medical School, even suggests that the
alternating periods of deep sleep and lighter, dreaming sleep we
experience each night (see "Cycling in your sleep") are all vital for
assimilating information, for spotting patterns in our memories, and for
learning and honing skills. While we may think that only practice
makes perfect, he believes sleep may also play a crucial role. What's
more, learning and understanding what we've learnt takes all night. "I
used to say that sleep was just a preferred time for learning," says
Stickgold, "but now I'd say that certain parts of learning can't happen
without sleep."
The strongest evidence ties learning to rapid-eye-movement or REM
sleep, a light sleep during which we dream most. Laboratory rats
seem to have more REM sleep if they spend their waking hours
learning or experiencing new things, and rats that are deprived of REM
do much worse at learning the layout of mazes. In people, the link
between dreaming and learning has been much more difficult to pin
down, although signs that people might learn skills during REM sleep
started to emerge in 1994.
Avi Karni of the Weizmann Institute of Science in Rehovot, Israel,
trained people to report whether they'd seen a short horizontal or
vertical pattern appearing in a textured background on a computer
screen while they focused on a letter in the centre. The task takes
about 100 milliseconds for an untrained eye, and performance doesn't
improve during the practice period. But if the trainees came back to
the test after a night's sleep-with no intervening practice-they were
about 15 milliseconds faster, an improvement that lasted for years
afterwards. If Karni woke the trainees every time they drifted into
REM sleep during the night after training, however, he blocked this
improvement completely, which suggested that REM was crucial.
But Stickgold wondered whether REM was the whole story. What if
preventing REM blocked not the entire learning process, but just a
vital step in a night-long sequence? To find out, he measured how
much people improved over several days of practice at Karni's learning
task. But instead of disturbing his volunteers' sleep, he simply
measured the time they spent in each of the four sleep stages, or
depths, and noted when each occurred. If learning happened during
REM, he predicted, trainees who had more REM should learn more-just
like the rats. In fact, he found that the best learners were not simply
those with the most REM, but those with the most REM during the
final two hours of the night and the most "slow-wave sleep"-the
deepest kind of sleep-in the first two hours. This suggests that the
learning process has two distinct phases, says Stickgold-one in
slow-wave sleep and one in REM. The types of sleep in the middle of
the night didn't seem to matter, so long as people didn't skimp on
their hours. "There is zero improvement after six hours' sleep," he
says.
This delayed learning has a time limit, too. If Stickgold's trainees
pulled an all-nighter right after the training period, they learnt
nothing-even if they had the second and third nights to recover from
their fatigue. "You have to sleep within 24 hours after the initial
training or you won't show any improvement," says Stickgold.
Sleep is probably not necessary for all forms of learning, but it is
especially important for "procedural memory"-that is, learning "how"
rather than "what". "Some tasks you learn instantaneously," says
Stickgold. "If you don't remember a phone number 50 seconds later,
sleep won't help. The procedural memories are more what sleep is
about. If you're trying to learn a piano piece and you just cannot get
it, you might find that you put it aside and come back the next
morning-and you've got it."
You can catch what may be the early stages of this process in your
own mind by noticing the "dreamlets" that can happen as you drift
off to sleep. Last April, at a meeting of the Cognitive Neuroscience
Society in Washington DC, Stickgold and his colleagues described the
dreamlets that people experienced while learning the computer game
Tetris. The aim of Tetris is to rotate differently shaped blocks as they
fall down the screen so that they drop into the spaces left by shapes
stacking up below, leaving as few gaps as possible.
Many of the trainees said that they saw images of the Tetris blocks
as they fell asleep, most vividly on the second night. The images
seemed to represent some salient feature of the game. For example,
one trainee said she frequently saw the piece she had most trouble
placing. Another said he saw the piece he needed most often to fill
gaps. And the trainees who reported the most imagery were also the
ones who were worst at the game when they started-the ones who
seemed to have the most to learn. One woman who had played the
game as a young child even noted that her dreamlets used the
coloured pieces and music of her childhood version, rather than the
black-and-white, silent version the researchers used-a sign that the
brain was integrating old memories with the new learning experience,
says Stickgold.
Warmup exercises
People have reported similar sleep-onset imagery after days spent
practising skills such as skiing, climbing, canoeing and bicycle riding.
Whether the imagery continues through the night is unclear-REM
dreams tend to be more bizarre, rather than reruns of our
experiences-but Stickgold suggests that the dreamlets are a sign
that the memory consolidation machinery is being cranked up,
activating processes that are about to come online during sleep.
But so far Stickgold has found only correlations, not clear
cause-and-effect links, cautions Carlyle Smith from Trent University in
Peterborough, Ontario. "We have to do the next step," he says-to
interrupt slow-wave and REM sleep selectively and see what happens
to learning.
When he did this, Smith found that both REM and some parts of
non-REM sleep are indeed important for skill learning. He looked at two
related tasks-simply tracing between the double outlines of a shape,
and tracing the figure while looking at it in a mirror. The mirror group
needed REM sleep to learn the test well, and interruptions during
other sleep stages had no effect. People learning the straightforward
tracing task, on the other hand, did fine if REM was disturbed but very
poorly when the lighter non-REM sleep known as stage II sleep was
interrupted. Smith concluded that simple skills involving only small
refinements of previously learnt skills require stage II sleep, while
learning a completely new task calls for REM sleep.
Which is the most important sleep period depends on what you're
trying to learn, agree Werner Plihal and Jan Born from the University of
Bamberg in Germany. Interrupting slow-wave sleep, they find, makes
it harder for people to learn spatial tasks or associations between
pairs of words-tasks for which the hippocampus, the part of our brain
that records spatial memories, and all the events of the day, seems to
be vital. REM, on the other hand, seems to be more important for
learning procedures or skills-a process that need not involve the
hippocampus.
Sleep may be especially important for transferring the memories of our
day from short-term storage in the hippocampus to a more permanent
store in the cerebral cortex. "The hippocampus can't hold all the
information," says Smith. "It must be sent to a much larger storage
bin like the cortex." Even procedural memories, like how to ride a bike,
that can form without the involvement of the hippocampus may
benefit from this transfer, because our memory of when and how we
learnt that task might help to supply context and thus a deeper
understanding.
This transfer seems to happen during slow-wave sleep, according to
Gyorgy BuzsÁki from Rutgers University in Newark, New Jersey. In
1989, he recorded electrical activity in rat brains and found that
sensory signals flow from the cortex into the hippocampus while the
rats were awake and exploring, and from the hippocampus back to the
cortex during slow-wave sleep (see Diagram).
In 1994, Matthew Wilson and Bruce McNaughton,
then both at the University of Arizona in Tucson,
suggested what these flowing signals might be.
Neurons called place cells in a rat's hippocampus
represent every position in its environment. When
a rat runs around a maze, or around any open
space, its route is logged by a sequence of place
cells firing, in response to signals flowing in from
the sensory areas of the cortex. Wilson and
McNaughton found that short snippets of the
place cell sequences seem to replay during
slow-wave sleep. They concluded that this
playback is part of the process of transferring information from the
hippocampus to the cortex. This rehearsal might also be the reason
that Plihal and Born find that performance on tasks that depend on
the hippocampus improves after slow-wave sleep.
Pillow talk
Soon afterwards, BuzsÁki spotted a flow of information in the opposite
direction during REM sleep, and described a night's sleep as a period
of dialogue between the hippocampus and cortex. Now Gina Poe, a
neuroscientist from Washington State University in Pullman, has found
what the cortex seems to be saying to the hippo-campus. Like Wilson
and McNaughton, Poe recorded the firing patterns of place cells, but
this time during REM sleep. During this sleep stage, the hippocampus
keeps up a regular rise and fall in activity, between 4 and 10 times a
second-the theta rhythm-just as it does when the rats are awake and
exploring their world. Poe found that over the first couple of nights
after the rats start learning a new maze, the cortex seems to drive
the sequence of place-cell firing to coincide with the peaks of the
theta rhythm. This synchrony, she thinks, helps to consolidate the
memory by strengthening the synapses which neurons use to
communicate. It happens during REM, she says, because REM sleep is
the only time of night when the brain has high levels of acetylcholine,
a chemical transmitter needed to strengthen synapses.
But after a week, when the rats have got the hang of the maze, the
place-cell firing begins to coincide with the troughs of the theta
wave, which Poe says would weaken or even eliminate the synapses.
By this time, the memory is well established in the cortex, and so can
be erased from the hippocampus.
Stickgold and Poe both suggest that something else might be
happening during slow-wave sleep. While our waking hours and REM
have the right biochemistry to establish synapses, and can strengthen
them temporarily by pumping up the amount of acetylcholine they
use, slow-wave sleep might start the process of strengthening them
on a more permanent basis. For this to happen, you need to build
bigger synapses-a job that calls for protein manufacture. "If you block
protein formation or provide little energy to the brain after making
new associations, you won't get the long-term aspects of learning,"
Poe says. "The formation of new, stable synapses is an
energy-intensive building process. Evidence is accumulating that
slow-wave sleep is both a time for restoring energy levels and for
building proteins."
But our brains are doing more than just transferring memories during
REM sleep. Stickgold and his colleagues think we're also busy exploring
the links between old and new memories as we dream, which may
help explain how we can sometimes solve problems in our sleep. One
way to measure the strength of such associations is to use a "priming"
test. If you were asked to judge whether the second of a pair of
words you saw was in fact a real word, and you saw "hot" then "cold",
you'd be very quick to make that judgment, because the well-learnt
link between them primes you to conjure up the second word almost
automatically as you're reading the first. If the words were less
strongly associated, such as "thief" and "wrong", you'd be a bit
slower. You'd be slower still if the words weren't linked at all-say,
"car" and "apple". And if the second wasn't even a word-say, "car"
and "blim"-you'd be slower yet. But this all seems to change as we
sleep, the researchers found (Journal of Cognitive Neurosciences, vol
11, p 182).
You can't take the priming test while sleeping, of course, but
Stickgold tried the next best thing. Most researchers agree that for a
short time after waking, people still show most of the biochemical and
sometimes even the brainwave characteristics of the sleep stage
they were roused from. So Stickgold and his colleagues tested people
as they were awakened from REM and stage II non-REM sleep.
Immediately after non-REM sleep, people were a little slower to make
the word-nonword judgment than when they were fully awake, but
people were still quickest to answer when the two words were
strongly associated. Unlike when they were fully awake, however,
weaker associations were no help. But when people were woken from
REM sleep, strong associations no longer speeded up the
word-nonword judgment and weak associations became much more
helpful-almost as effective at priming the answer as strong
associations are when people were fully awake.
Stickgold believes REM sleep may temporarily block the strong
associations and allow the brain to strengthen the weaker links
between less clearly associated memories. The high acetylcholine
levels of REM sleep make each neuron's activity a little more sporadic
or noisy, so your train of thought is more likely to bounce off its
normal track of obvious connections and onto some different route.
This could explain the bizarre dream narratives that we experience
during REM sleep-it's not that we want to learn or rehearse the
bizarre tales themselves, but that they might reflect the brain's
exploring some of the tangential connections between our old and
new memories.
"There are different ways to know something, and we're just beginning
to understand those different ways," says Stickgold. "It's the deeper,
more profound understanding that needs sleep. When I think about
how I would design a brain, I would want it to stop and look for
distant associations. This is what most people would call creativity."
Taken as a whole, he says, "a night's sleep is like five sessions with
a
therapist." The hippocampus is the patient, troubled with memories of
the day, and the cortex is the therapist. "In the first part, during the
slow-wave sleep, they talk about what happened, replaying the
autobiographical memories from the hippocampus. During REM the
cortex replies, and they look at how this information fits together.
More slow-wave sleep, more explanation. The two memory systems
talk back and forth trying to come to a consensus on what these
memories mean."
As with any form of therapy, dropping out before you've had the full
course won't do you much good. Burning the candle at both ends
cheats your brain out of its full night's conversation and makes the
whole process futile. As Stickgold advises, "you should definitely get
your eight hours."
Cycling in your sleep
A night's sleep is made up of 90-minute cycles of
rapid-eye-movement (REM) sleep and a series of non-REM sleep
states. Sleep researchers can recognise these stages from
differences in brainwaves, eye movements and muscle tone. Most
dreams seem to happen during REM (stage I) sleep, quite a light
sleep. Non-REM sleep, in turn, is made up of shallow stage II sleep
and deeper slow-wave sleep (divided into stages III and IV). The
first sleep cycle may contain only 2 or 3 minutes of REM sleep,
preceded and followed by the deepest sleep of the night. Later in
the night the REM periods are longer, lasting up to 45 minutes, and
the non-REM periods are mostly stage II sleep.
Robert Stickgold from Harvard Medical School believes that these
alternating bouts of REM and non-REM sleep allow the hippocampus
and cortex to hold a series of "conversations" during which they
transfer the day's memories to long-term storage, explore their
meaning and integrate them with earlier memories.
Further reading:
Sleep: offline memory reprocessing by Robert Stickgold,
Trends in Cognitive Sciences, vol 2, p 484 (1998)
Helen Phillip
From New Scientist magazine, vol 163 issue 2205, 25/09/1999, page
26
© Copyright New Scientist, RBI Limited 2001