Working memory and the Panera incident
Rebecca Pezdek / Human FactorsAs the years go by I’m noticing more often that certain memories are being purged for lack of brain storage space. How is it possible that I can remember minute details about elementary school and 5th grade Spanish class, but I can’t remember details about a trip I took last summer? I start reminiscing with a friend about how funny it was the time we were at the beach and we saw that crazy guy… you remember right? And she laughs and says “That wasn’t me.” Is it possible that my once photographic memory has overloaded in its late 20s?
Now, I know you’re thinking this is pretty common and that I shouldn’t worry. It happens to the best of us. Our brains can only retain so much. With all the constant daily information that we process from TV commercials, to radio ads, to important emails, to social networking updates, and even daily meetings it’s only logical that our short term memory might hold on to only the important bits of information. But let me assure you that my case is getting dire.
Recently, I had a turning point in my realizations that important facts are accidentally getting tossed out with the daily brain spam. So, I’m outside my local home improvement store when a gentleman pulls up and asks if there’s a Panera Bread sandwich shop nearby. He’s 30 minutes late for meeting a friend, who had told him to come to the shopping center where I’m standing. I rack my brain for a couple minutes and then tell him that the only location I know of is about 20 minutes away and I give him directions. As I’m driving home I’m feeling quite pleased with my Good Samaritan deed for the day and I wonder if the gentleman made it to meet his friend on time. As I stop at a light on the way out of the shopping center I look up horrified. Just yards behind the home improvement store I see the Panera Bread that had eluded me and the gentlemen just minutes prior. How is this possible! The same place where I had met friends and family countless times over the past decade had magically evaporated from my recollection.
So what do I do now? I know for one thing that it’s absolutely crucial to personally forbid myself from giving anyone directions even if it’s to my own house. But what or who will be my overloaded brain’s next victim? I remember hearing on the radio about how people in the horse and buggy days usually only knew 50-70 people at best. I take comfort in knowing that this could be a viable excuse that I plug after telling people about the “Panera incident.” And just when I’ve started contemplating the impossible (canceling cable TV and the internet in order to free my mind of information spam), I find reassurance from some quick web-browsing. Apparently, Harvard Medical School has brought to light the American Journal of Public Health’s claims that “A rich social life may also be more emotionally and intellectually stimulating, exercising the brain and fostering better neuronal connections and even nerve cell growth” (“Social networks and memory”, Harvard Medical School). This is very a good thing. I keep searching as I’m sure I can feel my tattered memory repairing itself with each passing second. The most inspirational information I come across is an abstract for a book called “The Overflowing Brain: Information Overload and the Limits of Working Memory”. The abstract states that “working memory capacity-long thought to be static and hardwired in the brain-can be improved by training, and that the increasing demands on working memory may actually have a constructive effect: as demands on the human brain increase, so does its capacity.” This is outstanding!
Now I can say that I’m feeling quite hopeful that although my brain might be lacking in long term memory recollection it is by no means “full.” I can continue my daily smorgasbord of brain spamming and feel reassured that I won’t permanently forget about my first car or last weeks trip to the museum. As for temporarily forgetting about who I was with, what was said, where it happened… that’s what friends are for. I’ll just have to start conversations with a pleasant disclaimer like “I don’t know if this was you, but do you remember when we…”.
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