blackprinceofmuncie wrote:In this case, no. Crack is essentially the same as methamphetamines in terms of the neurophysiological changes it induces in those two brain areas.
I'm surprised, and would be interested to read more about this.
blackprinceofmuncie wrote:Detailed animal studies in rats, rabbits, monkeys, etc. show the same changes in fMRI patterns. Obviously, studying humans is more complex because they aren't in a controlled laboratory environment. However, it's important to note that controls are done and some of the controls done include using people who are non-drug-using criminals (mimicking environmental factors) and non-criminal opoid users (patients taking opoids for pain control for example). The non-drug-using criminals don't display the behavioral abnormalities of drug users. The non-criminal drug users do display the noted behavioral abnormalities.
Specifically which behavioural abnormalities?
blackprinceofmuncie wrote:There are numerous documented cases of people who sustain injury to a specific region of the prefrontal cortex immediately developing Tourette's symptoms (the proper name Tourette's is reserved for non-traumatic childhood onset, but these cases are functionally indistinguishable from actual Tourette's).
Tourette's does rather strongly appear to be an inherited condition.
It's not particularly common, but there's significant overlap between the population of young people with Tourette's, and the population of young people in the criminal justice system, which means I meet a fair few of them (as well as a fair few crack users!) None of the cases I've encountered have ever been trauma-induced.
I imagine it's possible for brain injury to produce tics, though. This is the frustrating thing about clinical psychology--it's horribly vague and full of special cases, which makes it very difficult to get a handle on. I think it's quite likely that all of the commonly-diagnosed syndromes or illnesses (schizophrenia, autism, Tourette's, OCD, ADHD, bipolar, and even Alzheimers) are actually families of conditions--in other words, "Tourette's" is about as specific as "heart disease". There's a lot of research to go before we can diagnose neuropsychological conditions as specifically as "myocardial infarction" (if you follow the analogy).
blackprinceofmuncie wrote:Interestingly, the occurence of plasticity isn't limited to infants. In one extremely interesting experiment for example, a scientist named George Stratton built an apparatus he wore on his head that inverted his vision so that everything he saw was upside down. After about 8 weeks of wearing this apparatus 24/7, his visual pathways remapped themselves so that he was actually seeing things upright again. He then took the apparatus off and saw everything upside down for about 8 weeks until his visual pathways returned to their original orientation. He was middle-aged when the experiment took place (I'm guessing in his 50s).
That must be one of the most famous psychology experiments ever.

I imagine every psychology undergraduate comes across it in the first year of their degree, along with the split-brain patients (those who had their corpus callosum severed to treat grand mal epilepsy) and the Milgram Experiment.
It's interesting, though.
The important thing is that plasticity is very much more prevalent for young infants--in other words, if a baby's brain is somehow harmed, it recovers much more fully than an adult's brain. This is what makes me think inherited conditions like Tourette's can't be directly caused by brain injury or atrophy--except in extreme cases the brain would adapt and recover in infancy. I conclude the atrophy seems to be a comorbid effect.
blackprinceofmuncie wrote:As I pointed out above, some instances of Tourette's are, in fact, caused by damage, but you're right that it's not the only mechanism for these types of behavioral abnormality. And that's just it, the effects of the drugs we're talking about aren't the result of physical atrophy or damage. The behavioral results are reproduced by certain forms of physical damage, but the drugs don't cause any loss of brain tissue. Instead, they exert their effect by changing the neurotransmitter emissions and receptor profiles of synapses in the amygdala and PFC. There is no doubt that this is some form of plasticity at work, with the brain permanently altering itself in response to the stimulus it receives as a result of using drugs.
Semi-permanently altering itself, at least (plasticity again!)
I'm sympathetic to the idea that drugs change your brain chemistry--that seems to be a no-brainer, if you'll forgive the pun.
blackprinceofmuncie wrote:The behaviors the drugs induce aren't as simple as a loss of cognitive function (i.e. people lose the ability to think clearly). The studies I'm talking about control for cognitive functioning very stringently to ensure that changes in behavior aren't linked to changes in the ability to process information. The changes in behavior are strongly linked to changes in the ability of the long-term planning, impulse-control parts of the brain to overpower the impulse-generating, emotional parts of the brain. In fact, the people involved in these tests cognitively KNOW that the choices they are making are suboptimal. They KNOW the choices they should be making and can explain in great detail WHY the choices they are making are suboptimal. But they are (spookily) unable to stop themselves from making the poor choices that the impulsive parts of their brain prefer.
Now that's a bit slippery. Those of us who're accustomed to trusting our judgment tend to post-rationalise our decisions and contend we're making good choices. It seems instinctive.
But people who're accustomed to being lectured on their behaviour learn to respond in ways that bring the lecture to an end as fast as possible--in other words, they say, "Yeah, I made a bad choice. I'm so sorry, doctor (or Your Honour!), but I can't seem to help myself."
That's the way normal people behave as well, if there's a part of their past they've found is often challenged. They admit to being wrong, so as to be forgiven.
It's a familiar and frustrating pattern to those who work with offenders: verbalising that something was a bad choice doesn't mean the person won't make exactly the same choice again. Because their learned verbal responses don't reflect the underlying cognitive process.