Gray Matters: The unbearable lightness of memory

We all like to think that we have good memories, but what we actually recall is much less than we realize. Often what persists are not specific details of people or events, but our feelings about them.

How much of the past -- even the recent past -- do you actually recall? You see the dashboard of your car every day; can you draw it from memory? You glance at your own face in the mirror each morning; could you paint a picture of your own likeness? Even if not, you still recognize that your face is yours; it is familiar to you.

Try this experiment: Find a pad of paper and think about someone you know; anyone at all. It could be your husband or wife, child or friend. Think of the first time you met them, what was said and what each of you did. Then try to recall every single thing that you can remember about that person: what they look like, how they speak, how they dress, what they said on any given day, what car they drive, were they live, who their friends are, what their interests are, how they feel about things. Try to recall every single experience you have had with that person; every place you've been together, every conversation. You may have decades of history with this individual; try to recall it all.

If you're like most people, you will probably not be able to fill more than 10 or 15 pages -- and yet you feel that you know this individual extremely well. What accounts for this feeling of familiarity, beyond the recollection of specific details?

What persists are actually not the individual features of past experience, but the emotional response those experiences instill within us. We remember how we felt about a particular person or place or thing -- long after specific details have faded. You may no longer be able to recall the significant aspects of a once-favorite book or film, for instance, but still remember that you enjoyed it immensely; an old woman may still recall a boy she loved as a teenager -- and still miss him -- without being able to recall a single fact about his life. What is the basis of this "emotional memory"?

John D. Mayer, professor of psychology at the University of New Hampshire, has noted that there are both biological and psychological aspects to emotion, and that most people who study emotions are somewhere in between and view emotions as a coordinated response system -- something that happens when certain cognitive and biological states occur simultaneously. "There are emotions which are more biologically oriented and then there are complex emotions which are saturated with thoughts and cognition," says Mayer.

Perhaps this is the reason why emotions stick with us as long as they do: they link many sensory and cognitive areas of the brain in complex patterns that are more apt to persist than simple observations alone.

What do you think?