Critical phenomena arise at transitions. The idea is that when the system isÂ
just at this edge of order and disorder,  interesting complex dynamics can arise. As a physicist, critical phenomena isÂ
extremely appealing because it appears  in many phenomena — from the evolution of theÂ
universe to the properties of superconductors,  flocks of starlings, networks of brain cells,Â
tectonic plates, social interactions among humans,  all these types of things. Any time I canÂ
see one equation apply to lots and lots of  different things, I think that’s beautiful. It’sÂ
economical. It’s insightful. Which raises a really  profound question: Why? Why are so many thingsÂ
in nature operating near the critical point? When physical systems go through phaseÂ
transitions, such as when water transitions  from a liquid into a vapor because of aÂ
change in temperature, the system moves  through what’s known as the critical pointÂ
– a fleeting moment of transition from one  phase to another characterized by exotic emergentÂ
properties that have long intrigued scientists. Critical systems have this propertyÂ
of changing phase. Small changes in  some critical environmental variable leadÂ
to drastic changes — almost discontinuous  changes — in the function. And it’s thatÂ
kind of observation that leads us to believe  that the study of criticalÂ
transitions is valuable. Critical dynamics are best demonstrated in aÂ
simplified system known as the Ising model,  which visualizes the individual iron atoms making  up a magnet with arrows to indicateÂ
the direction of each atom’s spin. You can imagine a lattice. And on this lattice you  get all these little spins thatÂ
can point either up or down. And when this lattice is really cold,Â
what will happen is all the spins will  line up together. So the nearestÂ
neighbor interactions will cause  them all to point in the same direction.Â
This piece of iron — BING! It would stick  on your refrigerator because all theÂ
bar magnets are in the same direction. But now if you heat this up — if you tookÂ
a little Bic lighter and you put it under  it — what would happen is these littleÂ
spins would start moving. They start  going in different directions. And then theyÂ
would eventually cancel. Some of them would  point up and some of them would point down, andÂ
then it would fall off of your refrigerator. So you get a phase transition from beingÂ
very ordered to being totally disordered. As it passes from order to disorder, the systemÂ
moves through the critical point and clusters of  similarly oriented spins form throughout theÂ
lattice. If you were to measure the sizes of  these clusters at various scales, the data wouldÂ
reveal what’s known as a power law, where dynamics  at one scale mirror the dynamics at other scales.Â
This phenomenon is also known as scale invariance. Scale invariance is another way of saying thatÂ
there is self-similarity or fractality. These  kinds of properties are spectacular because indeedÂ
everything simplifies at the critical point. When a system reaches the critical point,  it displays a telltale peak in what is knownÂ
as the correlation length — an indication of  how sensitive the system as a whole is toÂ
the activity of any one of its components. What happens is the system behaves in ways that  allow fluctuations to occur overÂ
the scale of the entire system. If it was too cold, you’d have no correlationÂ
because they’re just pointing. They’re not  moving. And when it’s too hot, they’reÂ
moving a lot, but they’re not correlated. So only at that sweet spot right in theÂ
middle do you have interactions at all scales. Now, what that means is something very weird.Â
That means that the distance over which these  spins might interact is technically infinite.Â
I could take a spin over here and flip it,  and there’s some nonzero probability thatÂ
another spin very, very far away would flip  also as a result of it. So in other words, IÂ
can initiate a cascade of events that would  propagate through the system, and it would haveÂ
some nonzero probability of affecting that. In 1987, the physicist Per Bak wondered ifÂ
many different types of complex systems in  the natural world might self-organizeÂ
around critical points. To illustrate  his theory of “self-organized criticality,”Â
Bak used the familiar example of a sandpile. As the pile gains mass, friction can noÂ
longer hold the grains of sand in place,  and a single grain added to the pileÂ
will trigger an outsized effect,  sending avalanches cascading down its sides. And it turns out that if you look at theÂ
distribution of avalanche sizes — the big ones,  the small ones, the intermediateÂ
ones — they follow power laws. And so Per Bak’s idea was that, hey, here’sÂ
a natural system that self-organizes to the  critical point. You don’t need to tune itÂ
there. You don’t need to get just the right  control temperature to put the IsingÂ
model. It will evolve into that state. And so when he came out with thisÂ
concept of self-organized criticality,  he was claiming that many naturalÂ
systems fall into that category,  like earthquakes, like stockÂ
market crashes, like piles of sand. Now, he was a pioneer, and itÂ
was amazing that he did that,  and it inspired many people fromÂ
other areas to enter into the  field of criticality and to take a look atÂ
this concept and apply it more generally. And I would say basically it’s hadÂ
huge amounts of traction. However,  there have been people whoÂ
have been quite skeptical. Bak’s equations only account for one grain ofÂ
sand hitting the pile at a time. In nature,  things are more complicated, and researchers haveÂ
found it difficult to simulate true criticality. This is a general problem of mathematical modelsÂ
just to be always aware of: At what point have you  overextended that simple abstraction andÂ
applied it in a way that’s inadmissible? And so SOC is just one mechanism for tuning toÂ
critical points. It’s a very interesting one,  but perhaps it will turn out to be a rare one. Despite the criticism, Bak’s workÂ
inspired interest in criticality  throughout the 1990s and into the earlyÂ
2000s, when neuroscientists began to probe  a new question: whether brains mightÂ
exhibit self-organized criticality. Per Bak’s work opened up the concept thatÂ
criticality could apply to many different things,  and that made me think: We’ve got lots ofÂ
neurons that are interacting in this network,  so, hey, why not? So we just startedÂ
to apply that framework to the data. The idea that the brain is at theÂ
transition point — for example,  at criticality, at the transition between orderÂ
and chaos — has been around for a while. I think  the real avalanche of criticality research wasÂ
triggered by John Beggs and Dietmar Plenz in 2003. We isolated the gray matter. The cortex has aÂ
piece of tissue. When it was young, we grew it on  a microelectrode array in a dish. We let it growÂ
for about four weeks and we measured the activity,  how these cells would interact with each other.Â
And we found that in layers II, III, they start to  form groups like just these cascades that wereÂ
predicted by the Per Bak sandpile model. And  plotting avalanche science distributionsÂ
and sure enough, they were power laws. It was the first paper that claimed that the brainÂ
was probably functioning at a critical point. The question for scientists then became:Â Â Why? Why might functioning at aÂ
critical point be helpful for brains? Can you show that operating near theÂ
critical point actually increases  behavioral performance? And when you’reÂ
not near the critical point, it doesn’t? So why would being at the criticalÂ
point be to your evolutionary advantage? So let’s say you’re at the side of a river andÂ
there’s a bunch of reeds and they’re blowing in  the wind. And then you notice that, hey, this isÂ
different from yesterday. I think there’s a tiger.  So you want to be very sensitive to inputs. TheÂ
system is most susceptible to slight changes  in inputs when it’s near the critical point. ItÂ
has these large fluctuations that can take off. According to the critical brain hypothesis,Â
when the network is right at criticality,  it’s perfectly balanced between two extremeÂ
states: super-criticality, in which networks  of neurons display the highly ordered runawayÂ
excitations seen in epilepsy, and sub-criticality,  in which signals fail to trigger larger cascadesÂ
and stall out, as seen in comatose states. By hovering near the critical point,  the theory goes, networks of neurons wouldÂ
be optimized for information transmission.  Just like in the Ising model, tiny inputs couldÂ
result in big, complex behaviors in the network. Proving that such a measurementÂ
of optimal brain activity exists  would give researchers a new scale toÂ
interpret just about everything brains do. When we first got our results back fromÂ
the 2003 paper, I was just enamored with  the idea of criticality. I was in loveÂ
with it. I’d go to bed thinking, “Oh,  it’s optimal information transmission. We getÂ
the — just the right exponents. It’s all cool.” And then over time, people startedÂ
to question this in various ways. Just as with Per Bak’s sandpile model,  scientists began to question whether theÂ
physics of criticality could neatly apply  to such a chaotic biological system withÂ
so many variables interacting all at once. In simpler systems like the Ising model, aÂ
single variable like temperature can be adjusted  to bring the network right to the criticalÂ
point. But in complex biological systems,  the prospect of tuning to the exact pointÂ
of criticality would be much more difficult. The brain is constantly receiving inputs fromÂ
outside that could, you know, blow it off of  the critical point. So for those reasons alone, itÂ
can’t really be exactly critical. Then what is it? One of the options of many on theÂ
menu about how the brain is actually  operating is that it’s slightlyÂ
sub-critical, and that it doesn’t  really get to the critical pointÂ
because that might be dangerous. Another plausible idea is that it’s quasicritical.  And what that means is that it gets as close toÂ
the critical point as it can. But then there’s  this activity that’s basically going to pushÂ
it away from being right at the critical point. As research continues to revealÂ
tantalizing signatures of criticality,  what was once a fringe theory has begun toÂ
attract more mainstream attention in the field,  with researchers now hunting for what kinds of  mechanisms might be responsible forÂ
tuning brains to the critical point. The big question that is unanswered so far isÂ
what is the homeostatic mechanism bringing back  the brain to this quasi-criticality region? That’s a big question — a big open question.Â
That’s the million-dollar question. Neuroscience has been and continues to be veryÂ
hesitant and reluctant to agree on a theoretical  idea of the kind that criticality offers. MostÂ
neuroscientists are very hard-nosed empiricists.  They don’t believe that there is an overarchingÂ
theory that explains most — or, you know, god  forbid — all of what the brain is doing inÂ
one handy concept such as critical state. I personally think that what does notÂ
play well with neuroscientists is if  criticality is portrayed as the answer toÂ
everything. I think that is overselling it. And yet I have no doubt believingÂ
that a system like the brain almost  requires us to be in a critical state forÂ
it to function well or optimally, even. There might also be one equation that explains howÂ
the whole thing works. That’s the idealized dream.  We may never, ever get there, but the hope isÂ
that there might be some general principles  that really explain how intelligenceÂ
functions in this world that we live in. The field wasn’t there 20 years ago when we hadÂ
just one idea, a sandpile model or an Ising model,  that would guide us. We are way beyond that. AndÂ
we are at the point now where the technological  advance in neuroscience to record the individualÂ
spiking activity for many, many thousands of  neurons…. These are the precision tools that weÂ
need in order to test new ideas on criticality. How is the collective coming together toÂ
produce outcomes that are way beyond what  an individual could do? And I think this isÂ
how our society is organized. This is how  our brain, our body is organized. AndÂ
any understanding of the richness that  we gain when we operate as a collective, IÂ
think, is just beautiful scientific insight.
Interesting concepts.