I recently came across a paper with the captivating title “The Entropic Brain: a theory of conscious states informed by neuroimaging research with psychedelic drugs”, via Micheal Pollan’s book “How To Change Your Mind”.

The authors (a team of brain scientists, neuropsychiatrists, and neuropharmacologists from Imperial College and other institutions) advance what they call “a new theory of conscious states” based on the concept of entropy. According to the presented “entropic brain hypothesis”, different mental states can be classified along a continuum going from high to low entropy. Following the evolutionary approach originally promoted by Freud, they argue that the human mind “has evolved to process the environment as precisely as possible … so that surprise and uncertainty (i.e., entropy) are minimised”. Suppressing entropy, they continue, “serves to promote realism, foresight, careful reflection and an ability to recognise and overcome wishful and paranoid fantasies.”

There is however a flip side to this process. As the brain moves too far from entropy (or rather from a state of “criticality”, as they define it) it can develop dangerous pathologies. After establishing the link between low entropy mental states and activity in the Default Mode Network (DMN) and noticing that an hyper-active DMN is often apparent in individuals suffering from depression, they suggest that “mild depression” could be in-fact a trait of the “evolutionary advanced mental state.” In the authors’ words: “increased DMN activity and connectivity in mild-depression promotes concerted introspection and an especially diligent style of reality-testing.” But, and it is a big but, “what may be gained in mild depression (i.e., accurate reality testing) may be offset by a reciprocal decrease in flexible or divergent thinking (and positive mood).” When this is taken too far —when a too inflexible mindset becomes the norm— the individual’s “focus is almost entirely inward and self-critical, and he/she is unable to remove him/herself from this state.”

Based on these and other related observations on primary (higher entropy) mental states, the authors conclude that “narrow-mindedness is to pessimism what openness is to optimism” and, therefore, actions , therapies and substances, which return the brain “to a more critical mode of operating” are beneficial in the long term. Depression, and other related pathologies, arise in the absence of entropy. Conversely, “a brain at criticality may be a ‘happier’ brain”.

I found a lot of interesting parallels between the paper and James Scott’s “Seeing Like a State” (read the book, or at least this summary). Scott doesn’t talk about entropy, but the concept of “legibility” which he presents and uses to describe the process of definition, enumeration and reform put in place by the modern state to control society (and the environment) is very much connected to it. In information theory, entropy is “a measure of the unpredictability of the state, or equivalently, of its average information content.” In a highly legible context—being that a granularly censed population, a cleaned up and neatly arranged forest, or a perfectly planned city—unpredictability (entropy) is low. In a highly illegible, or random one—a nomadic people, a wild forest, or the medina of an old Middle Eastern city—unpredictability (entropy) is high.

Scott convincingly argues that any attempt aimed at radically reducing entropy ultimately sows the seeds of its own failure. In different examples ranging from scientific forestry to high-modernist city-planning (spoiler: he is not a fan of Le Corbusier), he shows how eliminating randomness, self-management and spontaneity leads as well to the elimination of the living soil—metaphorically and not— that made possible the very thing that the promoters of legibility (what he calls “high-modernist preachers”) wanted to re-create in its purest possible form. There is no city without the seemingly chaotic life of the street corner and there is no forest without the seemingly unintelligible ecology of the underbrush.

Put it like this, it would be simple to conclude that entropy is good and lack of entropy is bad. Alas, it is a lot more complicated than that. The issue with entropy reduction is that it is also necessary. In the brain, it is possibly the key evolutionary trait distinguishing human beings from our more primitive ancestors (and functioning adults from infants). It is what, according to the Entropic Brain paper, gives us that “grip on reality” without which we couldn’t function. In society, legibility—which includes, among other things, surnames, standardised unit of measures, and addresses—has allowed us to successfully grow food at scale, deliver universal medical care (for those that have it), and build all the infrastructure which today we would find impossible to live without.

The undeniable positive value of entropy reduction is precisely what puts us in trouble. We are not simply dealing with a problem of avoiding bad choices, we are dealing with a much more complicated question of setting limits. For how do we prevent good intentions from leading us into the trap of reducing entropy until we reach a pathological state?

One way to solve this dilemma, although a not entirely “legible” one, would be to treat entropy as an uncompromisable value. Hayek - who dedicated a large part of his work to admonishing against the glorifications (and hubris) of knowledge - puts this perfectly when talking about liberty:

(Liberty) is an ideal that will not be preserved unless it is itself accepted as an overriding principle governing all particular acts of legislation. Where no such fundamental rule is stubbornly adhered to as an ultimate ideal about which there must be no compromise for the sake of material advantage (…) freedom is almost certain to be destroyed by piecemeal encroachments. For in each particular instance it will be possible to promise concrete and tangible advantages as the result of a curtailment of freedom, while the benefits sacrificed will in their nature always be unknown and uncertain. 

Entropy and liberty are closely related, the former being both a condition and, in some ways, the product of the latter. Hayek understood this relationship and in different instances made clear that defending freedom requires the willingness to accept uncertainty and its (apparent) negative consequences—for example inequality of outcomes. We could push the argument one step further and declare more directly the need for preserving entropy, despite its costs. People (mis)quoting Nietzsche’s “what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger”, allude to that, but with the exception of some stoic or religious circles—where “providence” is taken as it comes—we rarely discuss openly the value of accepting, and even promoting, chaos. (See this tweet for a good example of how civil unrest can be perceived as either a sign of societal failure or as one of vitality.)

Another, more conscious (and therefore possibly delusional?) way to look at this problem would be to do what Jane Jacobs, presented by Scott as the anti-Le Corbusier, called “planning for the unplanned”. In city design this means “to develop cities that are congenial places for this great range of unofficial plans, ideas and opportunities to flourish” and to “make room for the unexpected, small, informal and even the unproductive human activities that constitute the vitality of the lived cities.” In the design of innovation, this means following a process akin to that of “improvisation” in jazz music (I wrote about it here). And even for the brain, the paper already mentioned suggests a variety of measures, and not all of them having to do with psychedelics.

Back to our personal life, the cliche version (and much talked about these days of WFH—for some—and retreat to the countryside—for even fewer) could simply boil down to making sure we all “introduce some randomness” in our days. Just don’t do it like that ex colleague of mine who once told me: “Stefano, one thing I learned from you is that I have to be more spontaneous and plan my life less.” Before proceeding to say proudly: “from now on I will not plan any events on Wednesdays.”