In the quest to understand the human experience, few topics bridge science and philosophy as intriguingly as the intersection of the brain and spirituality. For decades, researchers have debated whether spirituality and religiosity—encompassing feelings of transcendence, connection to a higher power, and religious practices—are tied to a specific "God spot" in the brain, a singular region responsible for these profound experiences. Proponents of this idea suggest that evolution might have wired us with a dedicated neural hub for divine encounters, while skeptics argue that such phenomena arise from complex, distributed networks across the brain. This debate has gained momentum through the emerging field of neurotheology, which applies neuroscience to unravel the biological underpinnings of faith and mysticism. While early searches for a "God spot" yielded mixed results, landmark studies in 2012 and 2021 have shifted the conversation, highlighting both the dispersed nature of spiritual processing and potential key circuits involved. This article delves into these developments, examining the evidence and ongoing controversies.
What Is Neurotheology?
Neurotheology, also known as the neuroscience of religion or spiritual neuroscience, is an interdisciplinary field that investigates the neurological and biological mechanisms underlying religious and spiritual experiences. It seeks to correlate brain activity with subjective states of spirituality, such as mystical encounters, prayer, or feelings of unity with the universe, using tools like neuroimaging (e.g., fMRI and EEG), magnetic stimulation, and neuropsychological analysis. Unlike the psychology of religion, which focuses on behavioral responses to faith, neurotheology emphasizes how the brain's physiology might predispose humans to religious beliefs or transcendent states.
The field's roots trace back to the 1960s, with Aldous Huxley coining the term "neurotheology" in his novel Island to describe a blend of neuroscience and spirituality. It gained academic traction in the 1990s through works like Laurence O. McKinney's 1994 book Neurotheology: Virtual Religion in the 21st Century, which linked religious inquiry to brain development, particularly the prefrontal cortex's role in perceiving time and existence. Key figures include Andrew B. Newberg, who has used brain scans to show altered activity during meditation and prayer, suggesting transcendent experiences feel "real" due to shifts in neural processing; Michael Persinger, known for his controversial "God helmet" experiments attempting to induce spiritual sensations via magnetic fields; and Mario Beauregard, whose fMRI studies on nuns revealed no single "God spot" but involvement of multiple brain regions.
Neurotheology's research spans several areas: neuroimaging of spiritual practices, the neuropsychology of conditions like temporal lobe epilepsy (which can cause hyperreligiosity), and psychopharmacology exploring how substances like psilocybin mimic mystical states. It also incorporates biocultural perspectives, recognizing that religious rituals—such as chanting or dancing—engage sensory and chemical pathways in the brain, varying across cultures. However, the field is not without controversy. Critics argue it risks reducing profound cultural and social phenomena to mere brain chemistry, potentially overlooking religion's broader context, and some label early experiments (like Persinger's) as pseudoscience due to replication failures and suggestibility biases. Despite these debates, neurotheology continues to evolve, offering insights into why humans seem "hardwired" for spirituality.
The 2012 Study: Challenging the Single "God Spot"
A pivotal moment in the debate came in 2012 with a neurotheology-based study led by Brick Johnstone and colleagues at the University of Missouri, published in the International Journal of the Psychology of Religion. This research directly addressed the notion of a distinct "God spot," concluding that "spiritual experiences are likely associated with different parts of the brain."
The study involved 20 participants with traumatic brain injuries primarily affecting the right parietal lobe, a region linked to self-perception and spatial awareness. Researchers surveyed participants on spiritual traits, such as feelings of closeness to a higher power and belief in life's divine purpose, while also assessing religious practice frequency. Brain activity, especially in the frontal lobe, was examined through neuropsychological tests. Building on prior findings, the team replicated that decreased right parietal lobe function correlated with heightened spiritual transcendence, interpreted as a reduced focus on the self, fostering a sense of unity with something greater. Conversely, increased frontal lobe activity was associated with more frequent religious behaviors, like prayer or attendance at services.
These results refuted the idea of a single "God spot," portraying spirituality as a multifaceted phenomenon involving dynamic interactions across brain areas. Johnstone emphasized that while certain regions like the right parietal lobe play prominent roles in selflessness and transcendence, no one area monopolizes spiritual experiences. This aligned with neurotheology's broader view, reinforcing that religion and spirituality emerge from widespread neural networks rather than isolated spots. The study sparked discussions on how brain injuries or variations could influence faith, but it also faced limitations, such as its small sample size and reliance on self-reported data.
The 2021 Study: A Neural Circuit Centered on the Periaqueductal Gray
Nearly a decade later, a 2021 study published in Biological Psychiatry reignited the conversation by proposing a specific brain circuit for spirituality, potentially rooted in the periaqueductal gray (PAG) area of the brainstem. Led by Michael Ferguson from Brigham and Women's Hospital's Center for Brain Circuit Therapeutics, this research used lesion network mapping to identify neural pathways linked to self-reported spirituality and religiosity.
The team analyzed two datasets: one with 88 neurosurgical patients undergoing brain tumor removal, and another with over 100 Vietnam War veterans who had sustained penetrating head injuries. Patients were surveyed on spiritual acceptance (e.g., belief in a higher power) versus formal religiosity before and after lesions. Results showed varied changes: about one-third reported decreased spirituality, one-third increased, and one-third no change. By mapping these lesions, researchers pinpointed a circuit centered on the PAG, a brainstem structure known for roles in fear conditioning, pain modulation, altruism, and unconditional love. The PAG exhibited both positive and negative nodes, where damage could either heighten or diminish spiritual beliefs, corroborated by historical case reports of hyperreligiosity from specific lesions.
This finding suggests the "God spot" may not be a single locus but a distributed network anchored in evolutionarily ancient brainstem areas, challenging earlier dismissals of a dedicated spot while supporting a more nuanced, circuit-based model. Ferguson argued that spirituality is embedded in fundamental neurobiological processes, possibly conferring evolutionary advantages like resilience during hardship. However, the study doesn't prove causation or address whether these circuits validate spiritual truths, leaving room for philosophical interpretation.
The Ongoing Debate and Implications
The contrast between the 2012 and 2021 studies encapsulates the evolving debate: the former emphasizes dispersion across brain regions, while the latter highlights a core circuit involving the PAG, suggesting spirituality might be more localized than previously thought but still not confined to one "spot." Critics of the "God spot" idea point to neurotheology's consistent findings of multifaceted involvement—no single area lights up universally during spiritual moments, as seen in Beauregard's nun studies. Yet, the PAG's role aligns with theories that ancient survival mechanisms, like those for attachment and fear, underpin modern religiosity.
This discourse has profound implications. Clinically, understanding these circuits could inform treatments for conditions like depression, where spiritual practices aid coping, or neurological disorders altering faith. Ethically, it raises questions about free will—if spirituality is neurologically driven, does it diminish its authenticity? Neurotheology advocates argue it enhances appreciation for human complexity, bridging science and faith without reductionism.
As research advances with better imaging and larger datasets, the "God spot" debate may resolve into a consensus on networked, adaptive spirituality. For now, it reminds us that the brain's mysteries mirror the enigmas of the soul—profound, interconnected, and ever-elusive.
God spot ‘laughable’ (Dr Peter Line, B. App. Sc., M.App.Sc., Ph.D., is a neuroscientist whose research specialty is the electrophysiology of the brain. Before retiring he was a lecturer in the Biomedical Science area, including teaching neuroanatomy and skeletal muscle biophysics, at an Australian university.) So what does he think of the recent research about a ‘God spot’ in the brain, that allegedly makes people believe in God? ‘Scientifically, the whole notion is quite laughable, really’, Peter says. ‘We can see which part of the brain “lights up” in various situations, such as a person having some sort of “religious experience”, but that does not mean that there is a place in the brain set aside for religious experience, such as a “God spot”’. Although brain regions may “light up” due to neuronal activity, we just do not know what this means in terms of enabling a person to think.4 Although he had what he calls ‘some mild religious instruction’ as a child, Peter says, ‘I had no knowledge of the Gospel or how to be saved. I used to take evolution for granted, because that is what society conditions you to believe, although my knowledge about evolution was really no better than my poor knowledge of the Bible. I wrestled with the idea of God. Any belief system that could interest me had to be true—I didn’t want to waste my life believing in a false God, a false religion.’ Peter was a keen triathlete, even competing successfully in ‘ironman’ events,5 but found that it didn’t satisfy him. ‘I knew deep down that I was a sinner’, he says, ‘but I didn’t know whether heaven or hell—or God—were real. I thought I would just hope for the best if I died. I realized early on, though, that the idea of God creating Adam from the dust, and the idea we descended from apes, were mutually exclusive.’ One day, when pondering this, Peter told God that ‘if you really are there, God, then you have the power to solve this problem for me’. Months later, and after having commenced a university degree, he attended one of a film lecture series featuring the late triple-doctorate scientist, Dr Arthur Wilder-Smith.6 He says, ‘I thought I was going to hear an evolutionist, but he was giving evidence against evolution. I was taken by complete surprise, but what he said really made sense with what I knew about science. I felt a sense of relief—there is a God. I became a creationist in my heart right then, and I felt that this must be why Christians have that strong faith.’ A few months after his intellectual conversion to creation, he says, ‘I knew I had to personally make the decision right there, or else risk an eternity in hell rather than spending it with the Lord Jesus.’ Peter was in for a shock, though—the first church he went to (after he became a Christian) praised Darwin for being ‘a great Christian’.7 He says, ‘Many churches did not want a bar of anything that connected Christianity to reality—that satisfied rational people and made for coherent doctrine. I realized, though, that the teachings of the Bible formed a coherent whole, something which had to be taken as a “complete package”.’
