top of page

ISA’s Core Theory and Research Page

This is the core source page for Jaguar Marigold ISA. It explains the key definitions behind the framework, shows the research-informed foundations behind the site, and gathers the main references used across the full ISA website in one place.

If you want to understand what ISA actually means by terms like prolonged childhood adversityInstinctual Consciousness (IC) vs egoic cognition, and bottom-up dysregulation, this is where to begin.

This page functions as the conceptual backbone of the site. It brings together ISA’s most important definitions and the full working reference bank used across the entire Jaguar Marigold ISA site. After the full reference list, each source is summarized in plain language so you can see why it matters and how it supports ISA​​

Prolonged Childhood Adversity

 

ISA's definition of "prolonged childhood adversity" is any repeated developmental trauma, especially associated with any of Bessel van der Kolk definitions of developmental trauma known as Complex Trauma [C-PTSD).

 

Emotional neglect

 

They also found that emotional neglect, among the trauma-related measures they tested, was the only one that showed a clear negative link with global hippocampal volume and several hippocampal subfields (Dimitrova, 2023).

The current literature supports Integrative Self-Analysis’ core claim that "prolonged childhood adversity" can produce bottom-up biological changes across the following domains:

 

 

Many of these changes do not require egoic self-awareness or cognition (i.e. ego cognition, cognitive appraisal, self-awareness, apperception, explicit awareness, self-reflection, or interoception) to be initiated or maintained.

Instinctual Consciousness vs Egoic Cognition

 

ISA’s definition of consciousness begins with the Instinctual Consciousness (IC), not with egoic self-awareness or cognition. In ISA, consciousness is the primary, bottom-up field of affective, embodied, and instinctive awareness from which experience first arises. The Ego does not create consciousness. It organizes, interprets, and verbalizes what first emerges from the Instinctual Consciousness (IC).

 

This means consciousness, in ISA, is rooted first in:

 

  • Wholeness
  • Feeling
  • Drive
  • Salience
  • Living Bodily Awareness
  • Images and Narrative
  • Patterns Recognition

 

Consciousness is not reflective thought. Egoic functions belong to cognition:

 

  • Dissociation
  • Miller Number: Your thinking mind can only hold and sort a small amount of information at one time. In ISA, it names the working-memory bottleneck in egoic cognition, which is why larger instinctive and emotional material has to be compressed into smaller, usable “chunks” or psychogenic zip files before it can be organized, spoken, or acted on.

  • Self-reflection
  • Linear Sequencing
  • Judgment
  • Symbols
  • Decision-making

 

They matter, but they are downstream of the more primary life of the Instinctual Consciousness (IC).

ISA therefore treats consciousness as emerging through several linked layers:

 

  • Affective, meaning felt before it is explained

  • Somatic, meaning body-based

  • Motivational, meaning shaped by instinct and drive

  • Symbolic, meaning expressed through image, dream, and inner patterns

Many of these processes do not require egoic self-awareness, explicit reflection, or deliberate thought in order to begin. In ISA, the usual order is: instinct, emotion, imagery, narrative, then thought and language.

 

How This Differs From Traditional Psychology’s Use of "Consciousness"

 

Standard psychology often uses the word consciousness more broadly to refer to awareness, attention, reportable experience, self-reflection, or waking mental life. In practice, this often places the center of consciousness closer to cognition, perception, and self-awareness.

 

ISA makes a sharper distinction. It reserves consciousness for the deeper, primary life of the Instinctual Consciousness (IC), while treating ego functions as cognition, not as consciousness itself. In other words, standard psychology often asks, “What are you aware of?” and "What can you control?"

 

ISA asks, “What deeper layer of living awareness is in control and generating what you later become aware of?” That difference is central to ISA’s bottom-up model.

 

Why It Matters

If consciousness is reduced to thought, self-reflection, or verbal awareness, a person can become highly articulate while still remaining cut off from the deeper sources of his own life. ISA argues that integration begins when egoic cognition stops acting like the source of consciousness and learns to listen to, interpret, and cooperate with the Instinctual Consciousness (IC).

Bottom-Up Dysregulation

 

Bottom-up dysregulation, also called limbic dysregulation or emotional disregulation, means the disturbance starts in the deeper, body-first layers of the person rather than in conscious thought. In ISA, it refers to dysregulation emerging from the Instinctual Consciousness (IC), where emotional signaling, bodily threat responses, and psychogenic material become active before egoic cognition can organize or calm them.

Put simply, the body, emotions, and instinctive alarm systems are already reacting before the person can think clearly about what is happening. That is why someone may understand a pattern intellectually and still feel anxious, flooded, shut down, dissociated, or stuck in the same reactions. In ISA, this often means maladaptive Malignant Complexes and their Protective Ego Constructs (PEC) counterparts are functioning as a trauma-like biopsychosocial governance layer that overrides the adaptive organization of the Dominant Ego Personality (DEP).

So when ISA says a person has bottom-up dysregulation, it means the problem is not mainly a failure of logic, insight, or willpower. It means the dysregulation is being generated and maintained at a deeper level of embodied emotional organization, which is why insight-only methods may help understanding without producing lasting regulation.

References

Ader R, Cohen N (1975)

Afrin, L. B., et al. (2017)

Alcaro and Carta (2019)

Alcaro and Panksepp (2014)

Arck, P. C., et al. (2006)

Bedard-Gilligan and Zoellner (2012)

Besedovsky et al. (1977)

Besedovsky and del Rey (2007)

Bonaz, Sinniger, and Pellissier (2017) (2018)

Bremner, J. D., et al. (1995)

Brewin (2018)

Chalavi et al. (2015)

Clancy, O. M., Forrest, L. N., & Smith, A. R. (2025)

Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1975)

Dantzer, O’Connor, Freund, Johnson, and Kelley (2008)

Diano, Celeghin, Bagnis, and Tamietto (2017)

Dimitrova et al. (2023)

Engel (1977)

Eisenberger, Berkman, Inagaki, Rameson, Mashal, and Irwin (2010)

Etkin, Egner, and Kalisch (2011)

Felger and Lotrich (2013)

Foster, Rinaman, and Cryan (2017)

Freeman and Elmadjian (1947)

Gorman, J. M., et al. (1984)

Harb, Liuzzi, Huggins, Webb, Fitzgerald, Krukowski, deRoon-Cassini, and Larson (2024)

Harper, R. M., et al. (2005)

Hillman, J. (1966) (1975) (1979) (1988) (1989) (1998) (2000) 

Hillman, J., & Ventura, M. (1992)

Horney (1942)

Hosseini-Kamkar, et al. (2023)

Karimi, K., et al. (2000)

Kotulla, Elsenbruch, Roderigo, Brinkhoff, Wegner, Engler, Schedlowski, and Benson (2018)

Kumsta, Entringer, Hellhammer, and Wüst (2007)

Laffey and Kavanagh (2002)

Lanius, Frewen, Vermetten, and Yehuda (2015)

Lanius et al. (2002)

Lanius et al. (2010)

Lanius et al. (2018)

Lawrence and Scofield (2024)

Leech, Stapleton, and Patching (2024)

Leon, A., et al. (1994)

Liu and Gershon (2024)

Lyons-Ruth, Chasson, Khoury, and Ahtam (2024)

McEwen (1998)

McLaughlin, DeCross, Jovanovic, and Tottenham (2019)

Michopoulos, V., et al. (2017)

Miller, A. (1991a) (1998) (2002a) (2002b) (2008a) (2008b)

Miller (2025)

Miller and Raison (2016)

Miller, Chen, and Zhou (2007)

Miller and Cole (2012)

Nardi, A. E., et al. (2009)

Osimo, Baxter, Lewis, Jones, and Khandaker (2019)

Panksepp, J. (1982 a.) (1982 b.) (2000) (2003) (2005 a.) (2005 b.) (2007) (2010) (2011 a.) (2011 b.) (2016)

Panksepp, J., Knutson, B., & Burgdorf, J. (2002)

Pariante and Lightman (2008)

Phillips and Elmadjian (1947)

Porges (2011)

Rauch, S. L., et al. (2006)

Ruge, Ehlers, Kastrinogiannis, Klingelhöfer-Jens, Koppold, Abend, and Lonsdorf (2024)

Sacu, et al. (2024)

Santamaría-García, Migeot, Medel, Hazelton, Teckentrup, Romero-Ortuno, Piguet, Lawor, Northoff, and Ibáñez (2025)

Savitz et al. (2004)

Shin and Liberzon (2010)

Smith, Xu, and Pollak (2025)

Solms (1997) (2015) (2021) (2026)

Solms and Panksepp (2012)

Solomon and Moos (1964)

Sullivan and Opendak (2021)

Tan, et al. (2014)

Theoharides, T. C., et al. (2004)

Tracey (2009)

Turnbull & Solms (2002)

van der Kolk and Fisler (1995)

von Schröder et al. (2025)

Yehuda, R., et al. (1996)

Zagaria, Fiori, Vacca, Lombardo, Pariante, and Ballesio (2024)

Zhou and Ryan (2023)

Zierau, O., et al. (2012)

Ader and Cohen (1975)


The Study

Ader and Cohen did an experiment with rats to test whether immune function could be altered by classical conditioning. They paired sweet saccharin water with cyclophosphamide, a drug that directly suppresses immune function. At first, the sweet taste had no immune effect of its own. But after repeated pairings, the rats became classically conditioned, so the taste became linked to the drug’s immune-suppressing effect.

 

A few days later, the researchers tested whether that learned connection would affect the rats’ immune response. They gave the rats sheep red blood cells, which served as an antigen, meaning a foreign substance that normally triggers an immune reaction. In response to an antigen, the body usually makes antibodies, which are protective proteins that help recognize and fight foreign material. The researchers then measured how strong that antibody response was.

They found that when the conditioned rats later received the sweet taste again, the taste alone helped produce a weaker antibody response. In other words, the sweet taste had become a conditioned signal that immune suppression should follow, even though the drug itself was not the active cause in the same direct way at that later stage. A comparison group was given lithium chloride, which can also make animals feel sick and cause taste avoidance, but it did not reduce antibody levels in the same way. This showed that the result was not just about avoiding a bad taste. It was about a conditioned connection that physiologically altered immune function.

In effect, the rats became conditioned to treat the sweet taste as a signal that immune suppression should follow. Later, when they received the sweet taste again, the taste alone helped produce a weaker immune response. This was important because it showed that classical conditioning in the nervous system could physiologically influence the immune system.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one narrow but important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework of the immune channel. The study is consistent with the idea that body regulation can be shaped by learned processes outside reflective thought, which fits ISA’s broader claim that some stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation may move through bottom-up pathways rather than beginning only in conscious interpretation. In ISA language, this offers an indirect research-facing parallel to Psychogenic Transduction, because a learned neural association altered a bodily defense response.

 

Reference

Ader, R., & Cohen, N. (1975). Behaviorally conditioned immunosuppression. Psychosomatic Medicine, 37(4), 333–340. https://doi.org/10.1097/00006842-197507000-00007

Afrin, L. B., et al. (2017)

 

The Study

The paper is a large clinical characterization study of mast cell activation syndrome, or MCAS, which means a condition where mast cells release too many chemical signals and can affect many body systems at once.

 

In 413 patients, the authors found a very broad symptom pattern, with a median of 20 symptoms and 11 comorbidities, meaning other health problems occurring alongside the main condition.

 

Symptoms often started early, with a median onset age of 9, but diagnosis came much later, with a median age of 49, showing a long delay in recognition. Common features included reflux, fatigue, dermatographism, meaning skin that reacts visibly to scratching, and many small but varied lab abnormalities.

 

The most useful lab markers were heparin, prostaglandin D2, histamine, and chromogranin A, while the flow cytometry and cytokine tests used in this study were not helpful. This means the lab tests that gave the clearest clues were the ones measuring chemicals linked to mast cell activity:

 

  • Heparin and histamine are substances mast cells can release

  • Prostaglandin D2 is an inflammation-related signaling chemical

  • Chromogranin A is a blood protein that in this study also helped flag the pattern

 

By contrast, flow cytometry, which is a lab method for sorting and measuring cells, and cytokine tests, which measure immune messenger proteins, did not help much in identifying the condition in this group of patients.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one important part of the broader bottom-up picture: a person can show a real, body-wide pattern of dysregulation that is biologically distributed rather than “just in the head.”

 

That is consistent with ISA’s use of psychogenic transduction as an interpretive idea for how distress may become expressed through bodily systems, It supports the claim that stress-linked dysregulation can have real multisystem bodily expression

 

Reference

Afrin, L. B., et al. (2017). Presentation, diagnosis, and management of mast cell activation disorders. Journal of Hematology & Oncology, 10(1), 32.

Alcaro and Carta (2019)

 

The Study

The paper argues that emotional drives can become organized into stable inner patterns, which the authors connect to Jung’s idea of feeling-toned complexes, meaning clusters of thoughts, images, and memories held together by the same emotion. They also say Jung’s view builds on Pierre Janet’s fixed ideas, meaning highly emotional mental contents that may not fully integrate into ordinary self-awareness and can become partly split off.

 

The authors place this in brain systems involved in inward, self-focused mental activity, especially midline brain networks often discussed as the default mode network, or DMN, which is active during remembering, fantasy, and mind-wandering.

This matters because the paper tries to build a bridge between older psychodynamic language and measurable brain processes, but it does so as a conceptual model, not as direct proof from a new lab study.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this supports one narrow but important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. It is consistent with the idea that emotionally charged patterns can organize perception, imagery, and reaction before clear egoic self-awareness fully knows what is happening. That gives ISA a useful research-adjacent bridge for describing a Malignant Complex as a hidden pattern of pain, fear, and defense rather than as a mere set of thoughts.

 

Reference

Alcaro, A., & Carta, S. (2019). The “Instinct” of Imagination: A Neuro-Ethological Approach to the Evolution of the Reflective Mind and Its Application to Psychotherapy. Frontiers in Human Neuroscience, 12, 522. doi:10.3389/fnhum.2018.00522.

Alcaro and Panksepp (2014)

 

The Study

The chapter argues that imagination and inner imagery grow out of affective brain systems, especially self-related resting activity often linked to the default mode network (DMN), which is a set of brain regions active during rest, daydreaming, and inward thought.

 

Later papers by the same group say this self-referential DMN activity can shape subjective meaning outside full awareness, and that the medial temporal lobe, which includes the hippocampus, helps support this imaginative and exploratory function together with Panksepp’s SEEKING system, the brain’s built-in drive for exploration and pursuit.

 

Related empirical studies fit that picture, the DMN is strongly linked to internal mentation, meaning inward thought like remembering, imagining, and mind-wandering. People with hippocampal damage still mind-wander, but their thoughts become less vivid and scene-based, and dreaming is also reduced or altered after hippocampal damage.

 

This matters because the chapter is trying to place imagination, dream-like imagery, and emotionally colored inner life on a brain-based foundation rather than treating them as only as unessential abstract thought.

 

ISA relevance

This supports one narrow but important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. It is consistent with the idea that emotionally charged inner imagery and self-related patterning can arise from brain systems involved in spontaneous thought, memory, and exploratory drive before clear egoic self-awareness fully knows what is happening. That gives ISA an indirect bridge for thinking about a Malignant Complex.

 

Reference

Alcaro, A., & Panksepp, J. (2014). Le radici affettive e immaginative del Sé. Un’indagine neuroetologica sulle origini della soggettività. In G. Northoff, M. Farinelli, R. Chattat, & F. Baldoni (Eds.), La plasticità del Sé. Una prospettiva neuropsicodinamica (pp. 65-89). Bologna, Italy: Il Mulino.

Arck, P. C., et al. (2006)

 

The Study

Arck and colleagues review the “brain-skin connection,” meaning how psychological stress can affect skin biology and skin disease through linked nerve, hormone, and immune signals.

 

They explain that skin and hair follicles are both targets of stress mediators and also local sources of some of those same mediators, including:

 

  • Corticotropin-releasing hormone: A stress signal that helps start the body’s stress-response system.

  • ACTH: A hormone that tells the body to keep the stress-response chain moving, especially by signaling the adrenal glands.

  • Cortisol-related signaling: Stress-related communication involving cortisol, the body’s main long-term stress hormone.

  • Catecholamines: Fast-acting stress chemicals such as adrenaline and noradrenaline that prepare the body for alertness, action, or danger.

  • Substance P: A signaling chemical linked to pain, inflammation, and stress reactions. It can help trigger immune activity.

  • Nerve growth factor: A protein that helps nerve cells grow, survive, and stay active. It can also be involved in stress and inflammation.

 

They also describe mast cell-dependent neurogenic inflammation, which means inflammation driven by stress-linked signaling between nerves and immune cells, and they place mast cells in a central “switchboard” role because these cells both receive stress signals and help amplify skin inflammation.

 

This matters because it shows a credible pathway by which stress can become visible, physical skin reactivity rather than staying only at the level of thoughts or mood or limited to just a biological etiology.

 

Related work discussed in this literature also showed that stress increased substance P-positive nerve fibers in mouse skin, increased contact between those fibers and mast cells, and increased mast cell degranulation, meaning mast cells released inflammatory contents more readily.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one specific part of ISA’s broader bottom-up argument, that stress-linked affective disturbance can move into the body through neuroimmune pathways and recruit peripheral inflammatory activity in the skin. That is consistent with ISA’s psychogenic transduction, meaning unresolved emotional strain may be expressed through real body-based dysregulation rather than remaining only as a conscious narrative or mood.

 

Reference

Arck, P. C., et al. (2006). Stress and mast cells in skin. Brain, Behavior, and Immunity, 20(3), 190–199.

Bedard-Gilligan and Zoellner (2012)

 

The Study

The authors reviewed 16 studies to test whether dissociation, meaning a felt mental disconnection during or after an overwhelming event, is linked to memory fragmentation, meaning a memory that feels broken, jumbled, or hard to organize.

They found the clearest link when dissociation happened during the event and people themselves said their memory felt fragmented. That link was much weaker or inconsistent when fragmentation was judged with rater-coded or computer-based measures, and trait dissociation, meaning a general tendency to dissociate, did not show a reliable pattern.

In plain language, people who felt more dissociated often said the memory felt more broken, but outside measurement did not consistently confirm that the memory was objectively more fragmented. This matters because it weakens strong versions of the dissociative encoding hypothesis and suggests that perceived memory quality and actual memory structure are not the same thing.
 

ISA relevance

It means the study supports the idea that dissociation changes how a memory is experienced, but it gives weaker support to the stronger claim that dissociation directly causes the memory to be stored in a measurably broken form.

From an ISA view, the paper may also fit the Malignant Complex framework in a more limited way. If a Malignant Complex is a hidden trauma-like pattern of pain, fear, and defense, then the finding that dissociation is tied to a person’s felt experience of a broken memory is consistent with the idea that important emotional material may remain split off from ordinary cognitive self-awareness.
 

In ISA language, that would mean the memory is not gone, but held behind a Dissociation Field and outside clear egoic access. This may support the broader ISA idea that, with the right bottom-up approach, meaning an approach that starts with felt reactions, body state, emotional activation, and lived triggers rather than abstract thought alone, the buried material may be called up more directly. But this study does not test ISA methods themselves, so it does not prove that process.


Reference

Bedard-Gilligan, M., & Zoellner, L. A. (2012). Dissociation and memory fragmentation in post-traumatic stress disorder: An evaluation of the dissociative encoding hypothesis. Memory, 20(3), 277-299. https://doi.org/10.1080/09658211.2012.655747

Besedovsky et al. (1977)

 

The Study

The researchers tested whether triggering an immune response with two antigens, meaning substances that activate the immune system, changed the firing of single neurons in the rat hypothalamus, a brain region that helps regulate body states.

 

They found that both antigens increased electrical activity by more than 100% in neurons in the ventromedial hypothalamus, but not in the anterior hypothalamic nucleus, and animals that did not respond to the antigen did not show this increase:

 

  • Ventromedial hypothalamus: The ventromedial hypothalamus helps regulate energy balance, glucose control, thermogenesis, which means heat production, and parts of autonomic and neuroendocrine control. If neuron activity there goes up, a reasonable hypothesis is that the brain is adjusting things like:

 

  • Metabolism: More heat production could feel like feeling hot, heat intolerance, feeling keyed up, and more sweating.

  • Appetite: if metabolism stays elevated, people often notice increased appetite.

  • Sympathetic arousal: More sympathetic activation could feel like racing heart or palpitations, tremor or shakiness, sweating, restlessness, anxiety, and sometimes higher blood pressure.

  • Hormone signaling: Stress-hormone signaling through the HPA axis, meaning CRH to ACTH to cortisol, would mean weaker immune restraint and metabolic strain.

  • Glucose handling: More glucose release / higher blood sugar could show up as thirst, frequent urination, fatigue or weakness, headache, and blurred vision.

  • Some later work also links parts of the ventromedial hypothalamus to defensive and stress-related responding.

  • Anterior hypothalamic: The anterior hypothalamic nucleus, its main job is thermoregulation, especially cooling the body down or helping reduce body temperature. The whole front region also includes nearby nuclei involved in sleep, circadian rhythm, and hormone control. In that region, the preoptic area is involved in sleep and thermoregulation, the suprachiasmatic nucleus helps align body functions to the light-dark cycle, and the paraventricular and supraoptic nuclei help produce hormones such as oxytocin and vasopressin, with the paraventricular nucleus also contributing CRH and TRH.

 

In plain language, the immune response was linked to a selective change in brain activity, not just a general body reaction. This mattered because it gave early evidence that an activated immune system can send information to the brain, especially to the hypothalamus.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one small but important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. It is consistent with the idea that immune activity in the body can help shape brain-state, and that regulation does not always begin with higher cognition. As a working hypothesis for future testing only, if this kind of unequal weighting became chronic, stronger ventromedial hypothalamic output than anterior hypothalamic output could help keep metabolic, autonomic, endocrine, and glucose-related activation more active over time, while homeostatic correction becomes weaker.

 

This matters to ISA because if a Malignant Complex can help generate repeated immune activation, and immune activation can in turn affect hypothalamic regulation, then it is reasonable to ask whether downstream endocrine disruption could follow as part of the same broader chain. In that sense, ISA may use this study as one early research-facing piece for the idea that a hidden stress-shaped pattern could move through immune pathways into later hormone-related dysregulation.

 

Reference

Besedovsky, H., Sorkin, E., Felix, D., & Haas, H. (1977). Hypothalamic changes during the immune response. European Journal of Immunology, 7(5), 323-325. https://doi.org/10.1002/eji.1830070516

Besedovsky and del Rey (2007)]

 

The Study

The authors looked back over about 30 years of psychoneuroimmunology and argued that the immune, endocrine, and nervous systems exchange signals in both directions rather than working as separate systems. They put special focus on immune cell products, such as cytokines, meaning immune messengers, along with the hypothalamus-pituitary-adrenal axis, or HPA axis, the body’s main stress-hormone pathway, and the sympathetic nervous system, which helps mobilize the body during stress. They argued that these circuits matter for both immune regulation and brain function, and that they can affect the course of inflammatory, autoimmune, and infectious diseases. They also pointed to growing evidence that cytokines made in the brain itself help regulate normal brain function and help integrate this larger immune-neuro-endocrine network.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one broad but indirect part of ISA’s bottom-up framework. It is consistent with the idea that dysregulation may multi-directionally move through immune, endocrine, and nervous-system pathways, rather than assuming that higher cognition or an organic cause is always the starting point of regulation. This supports ISA’s broader claim that a hidden stress-shaped pattern of a Malignant Complex could be expressed through body-based dysregulation that then helps shape cognition.

 

Reference

Besedovsky, H. O., & del Rey, A. (2007). Physiology of psychoneuroimmunology: A personal view. Brain, Behavior, and Immunity, 21(1), 34-44. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.bbi.2006.09.008

Bonaz, Sinniger, and Pellissier (2017)

 

The Study

This review paper explains how the vagus nerve links the brain, gut, and immune system, especially in disorders involving gut inflammation. The authors show that most vagus fibers carry signals from body to brain, while a smaller portion carries signals back from brain to body, so it works as a real two-way pathway.

They describe two main anti-inflammatory routes:

 

  • One route sends inflammation signals upward and activates the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis, which is the body’s stress-hormone system

  • The other route sends signals downward through the cholinergic anti-inflammatory pathway, where acetylcholine helps reduce inflammatory immune chemicals such as TNF-alpha.

 

This matters because it gives a concrete biological model for how nervous-system state, gut function, and inflammation can reinforce each other, and why vagus-based interventions were being explored in conditions such as irritable bowel syndrome, inflammatory bowel disease, and postoperative ileus.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this paper supports one specific part of the broader bottom-up argument: autonomic signaling can carry distress in both directions between body and brain and can shape immune and gut activity along the way. That is consistent with ISA’s claim that some chronic stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation may become embodied rather than remaining at the level of thought alone, which is close to ISA’s idea of Psychogenic Transduction, meaning unresolved distress showing up through body-based dysregulation. But the support is indirect.

 

Reference

Bonaz, B., Sinniger, V., & Pellissier, S. (2017). The vagus nerve in the neuro-immune axis: Implications in the pathology of the gastrointestinal tract. Frontiers in Immunology, 8, Article 1452. https://doi.org/10.3389/fimmu.2017.01452

Bonaz, Sinniger, and Pellissier (2018)

 

The Study

The authors describe the vagus nerve as a major part of the parasympathetic nervous system and as a two-way link between the brain, the gut, and the immune system.
They explain that about 80% of its fibers carry signals from body to brain and about 20% carry signals from brain to body, which lets the nerve both detect bodily inflammation and help regulate it.
 

They outline two main anti-inflammatory routes:

 

  • One through vagal afferents, meaning body-to-brain fibers, that activate the HPA axis, which is the body’s main stress-hormone system

  • One through vagal efferents, meaning brain-to-body fibers, that activate the cholinergic anti-inflammatory pathway, a nerve-based route that uses acetylcholine to reduce inflammatory signaling.

 

They also describe a vagus-splenic pathway, where vagal and sympathetic signaling work together to reduce release of TNF-alpha, which is a major inflammatory messenger. This matters because the paper argues that low vagal tone, meaning weak parasympathetic regulation, may be tied to chronic inflammatory disorders and may be a useful treatment target.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this review gives indirect but meaningful support to the broader bottom-up claim that nervous-system state and immune state are tightly linked through real body-brain feedback loops. It is consistent with ISA’s idea that stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation may move through autonomic pathways and become embodied before it is clearly understood in egoic self-awareness. Autonomic regulation can shape inflammatory tone.

 

Reference

Bonaz, B., Sinniger, V., & Pellissier, S. (2018). The vagus nerve in the neuro-immune axis. Frontiers in Immunology, 9, 563.

Bremner, J. D., et al. (1995)

 

The Study

This was a small MRI study, where the researchers measured the hippocampus, a brain area important for memory and context, in 16 patients with major depression in remission and compared them with 16 matched people without depression. They found that the depressed group had a 19% smaller left hippocampal volume, while other comparison regions and total brain volume were not smaller.

 

The finding still held after controlling for brain size, age, education, and alcohol exposure. This matters because it suggests that depression can be linked to measurable changes in a memory-related brain structure, not only to changes in mood or self-report. The paper also mentions a possible stress-hormone pathway as a background idea, but the study itself did not directly test that mechanism.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this study may support one important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up argument, that long-term psychological suffering can be associated with real changes in a brain system involved in memory, context, and stress regulation. That is consistent with the idea that unresolved trauma-like or stress-linked patterning may become biologically embedded rather than remaining only at the level of conscious narrative.

 

In ISA language, this may fit the claim that a hidden maladaptive pattern can stay active through memory-related circuitry even when a person does not fully understand why they keep reacting the way they do.

 

Reference

Bremner, J. D., et al. (1995). Hippocampal volume reduction in major depression. American Journal of Psychiatry, 152(7), 973–981.

Brewin (2018)

 

The Study

Brewin summarized recent research on memory in PTSD and noted an important distinction, a person’s overall trauma narrative is often fairly well rehearsed, but the episodic memories of the most frightening moments may show disruptions and fragmentation, meaning they can be partial, broken up, or less smoothly organized.

 

He also reviewed evidence that PTSD involves more than one kind of memory disturbance, including:

 

  • Weaker voluntary recall: more difficulty deliberately bringing the memory to mind on purpose. In plain language, the person may know something happened but have trouble intentionally pulling up a clear, full account of it.

  • More sensory flashback: The trauma returns more as raw sights, sounds, body feelings, or vivid fragments than as a calm, organized memory. It feels more like random images, disconnected from the larger experience, than simply remembering it.

  • Problems integrating the trauma as a part of their own history: Difficulty fitting the trauma into a stable sense of “this happened to me, and it is part of my life story.” The event may remain partly cut off from the person’s ongoing sense of self, instead of being fully woven into autobiography and self-understanding.

 

The review suggests that trauma memory is not simply either “normal” or “fragmented.” Some parts may stay coherent, while the most emotionally intense moments may be stored and recalled in a more disorganized way. This matters because it gives a more careful and evidence-based account of memory disturbance than the simpler claim that all traumatic memories are globally fragmented.

 

ISA relevance

This supports one narrow but important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. It is consistent with the idea that trauma-like dysregulation can involve memory processes that are only partly available to cognition and accurate chronology, especially when the most emotionally intense moments are carried in more sensory, fragmented, or poorly integrated form. That makes the review relevant to ISA’s idea of a Dissociative Field, but only indirectly, because the paper supports a memory-integration problem rather than the full ISA model.

 

Reference

Brewin, C. R. (2018). Memory and forgetting. Current Psychiatry Reports, 20(10), 87. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11920-018-0950-7

Chalavi et al. (2015)

 

The Study

This was a structural MRI study. People with PTSD and dissociative identity disorder, people with PTSD only, and healthy controls, and they measured the size and shape of the hippocampus, a brain region important for forming memories and placing experiences in context.

 

The hippocampus is a memory region. It helps the brain form new memories and place them in context, so an experience can be stored as part of a coherent life story rather than as a loose fragment. In this study, the patient groups had a smaller hippocampus overall than the healthy control group, which means the total size of that memory-related structure was reduced on average.

 

The study then looked more closely at subfields, which are smaller internal parts of the hippocampus. Instead of just asking, “Is the whole hippocampus smaller?” the researchers asked, “Which specific parts are smaller?” They found that the group with PTSD plus dissociative identity disorder showed stronger reductions in certain subfields than healthy controls, especially CA2-3, CA4-dentate gyrus, and the subiculum/presubiculum:

 

  • CA2-3: A hippocampal area involved in linking and organizing memory elements. In context, smaller volume here may mean weaker integration of different parts of an experience into a more connected memory.

  • CA4-dentate gyrus: A hippocampal area involved in helping the brain separate similar experiences from one another and encode new memory traces. In context, smaller volume here may mean more difficulty laying down clear, distinct memory patterns.

  • Subiculum/presubiculum: Output regions of the hippocampus that help connect hippocampal memory processing to wider brain systems. In context, smaller volume here may matter because these regions help pass organized memory information onward, and the study specifically found links between dissociative symptom severity and smaller subiculum-related volume.

 

The finding means this was not only a whole-hippocampus difference. The more dissociative patient group also showed reductions in some of the hippocampus’s internal memory-processing parts, especially parts involved in forming, separating, organizing, and passing along memory information. That is why the result is often read as evidence that trauma-linked dissociation may involve altered memory architecture, not just emotional distress in a general sense.  

 

In conclusion, within the patient groups, more severe childhood traumatization was linked to smaller global and subfield hippocampal volumes, while more severe dissociative symptoms were linked specifically to smaller left subiculum and presubiculum volumes.

 

This matters because the study gives measurable brain-structure evidence that memory-related regions can differ in dissociative and trauma-linked conditions, but it did not find that dissociative amnesia uniquely tracked CA1 volume.

 

ISA relevance

This supports one narrow but important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. It is consistent with the idea that trauma-like dissociation can involve altered memory circuitry in ways that leave parts of experience insufficiently integrated into clear self-awareness, which makes the study relevant to ISA’s idea of a Dissociative Field. But the support is limited: this paper shows structural correlations in hippocampal regions, not the full claim that trauma disrupts a whole hippocampal-PFC-limbic integration system into disconnected identity layers.

 

Reference

Chalavi, S., Vissia, E. M., Giesen, M. E., Nijenhuis, E. R. S., Draijer, N., Cole, J. H., Reinders, A. A. T. S., et al. (2015). Abnormal hippocampal morphology in dissociative identity disorder and post-traumatic stress disorder correlates with childhood trauma and dissociative symptoms. Human Brain Mapping, 36(5), 1692-1704. https://doi.org/10.1002/hbm.22730

Clancy, O. M., Forrest, L. N., & Smith, A. R. (2025). Examining longitudinal relations between eating disorder symptoms and negative emotion variability in military members. Journal of Clinical Psychology, 81(4), 209-221. https://doi.org/10.1002/jclp.23760

Csikszentmihalyi (1975)

 

The Study

Csikszentmihalyi studied people doing hard activities with little outside reward, including rock climbers, composers, dancers, chess players, and basketball players, to understand why they found these activities deeply enjoyable. He argued that people often report a similar state of total involvement, later called flow, when challenge and skill are well matched and the activity gives clear goals and immediate feedback.
 

In that state, attention becomes highly focused, the person often feels in control, and self-consciousness may fade into the background. The book matters because it suggests that strong motivation and meaningful experience can grow from the structure of action and felt engagement, not only from external reward.

 

ISA relevance

Creativity.

 

Reference

Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1975). Beyond boredom and anxiety: Experiencing flow in work and play. Jossey-Bass.

Dantzer, O’Connor, Freund, Johnson, and Kelley (2008)

 

The Study

It explains that when the body’s immune system is activated, it releases inflammatory signals called cytokines, which are immune messenger molecules. The review says these signals can reach the brain through more than one route, including nerve pathways and blood-borne pathways, and can produce “sickness behavior,” such as:

 

  • Low energy

  • Social withdrawal

  • Reduced motivation

  • Slowed thinking

 

It also argues that when inflammation stays active too long, this sickness state can deepen into depression symptoms in vulnerable people.

One proposed mechanism is that inflammation shifts tryptophan, a building block used to make serotonin, into another pathway called IDO, which then produces brain-active chemicals that can affect mood and motivation.

 

This matters because it shows that some changes in mood and thinking can begin in the body and move upward into the mind, rather than starting only with conscious thoughts.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this review supports one important part of the broader bottom-up case, that bottom-up immune activity can shape energy, mood, motivation, and cognition before a person has a clear egoic explanation for what is happening. That is consistent with ISA’s larger claim that distress may sometimes move upward through embodied pathways rather than remaining only at the level of thought or just organic causation. It does support the narrower point that body-to-brain signaling is real, meaningful, and strong enough to help organize subjective suffering from the bottom up.

 

Reference

Dantzer, R., O’Connor, J. C., Freund, G. G., Johnson, R. W., & Kelley, K. W. (2008). From inflammation to sickness and depression. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 9(1), 46–56.

Diano, Celeghin, Bagnis, and Tamietto (2017)

 

The Study

The authors looked across prior studies on whether the amygdala, a small brain region involved in spotting emotional importance and possible danger, can react even when a person is not consciously aware of the stimulus. They conclude that the evidence for some amygdala responses without awareness is strong, but that the process is not simple or uniform.

 

They distinguish between attentional unawareness, where something could in principle be seen but cognitive attention misses it, and sensory unawareness, where normal visual processing is blocked before the stimulus reaches awareness.

They also argue that different brain routes may be involved in these different cases, including fast subcortical routes, meaning pathways that run through deeper brain structures rather than the main visual cortex.

 

The main visual cortex is the part of the brain that usually handles detailed conscious seeing. It helps you recognize what you are looking at in a clear, reportable way. In this review, the authors contrast that usual cortical route with other routes that may still carry emotionally important visual information even when normal awareness is blocked.

 

Subcortical simply means “below the cortex.” It refers to deeper brain structures. In this paper, the main ones discussed are the:

 

  • Superior colliculus: A small structure deep in the midbrain that helps the brain quickly notice sudden visual events, especially movement, location, and possible threat. It is part of the brain’s fast orienting system, meaning it helps turn attention toward something before you have fully thought about it.

  • Pulvinar: A part of the thalamus, which is a deep brain relay center. The pulvinar helps filter visual information and direct attention toward what seems important or emotionally relevant.

 

In simple terms, these two areas may help the brain send a quick rough signal about possible danger before the slower, more detailed visual system has fully worked out what the person is seeing. This helps pass rough, fast emotional information onward to the amygdala. The idea is not that these structures give a full detailed picture. The idea is that they may pass a quick warning-style signal, especially when the normal visual route is reduced or bypassed.

 

Simply put, the brain may have a standard high-detail route for cognitive seeing, and also a faster rough route that can still flag possible danger before a person clearly knows what they saw. That is why the authors think different kinds of unawareness may involve different neural pathways. They specifically argue that the subcortical route seems especially relevant in sensory unawareness, where normal visual-cortex processing is suppressed.

 

This matters because it suggests that emotionally relevant signals can begin shaping attention, bodily reactions, and behavior at the expense of full cognitive interpretation.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one important part of the broader bottom-up claim: emotionally charged signals can begin influencing the organism before clear egoic self-awareness forms an explanation. That is consistent with ISA’s view that some distress-linked activation may begin below deliberate cognition and only later become narratively explained. This does not directly prove ISA’s specific constructs, methods, or trauma-like governance model. It supports one narrower link in the chain, namely that emotional salience and bodily-affective readiness can be triggered outside full awareness.

 

Reference

Diano, M., Celeghin, A., Bagnis, A., & Tamietto, M. (2017). Amygdala response to emotional stimuli without awareness: Facts and interpretations. Frontiers in Psychology, 7, 2029. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2016.02029

Dimitrova et al. (2023)

 

The Study

This was an original MRI study of the hippocampus, a brain region important for memory. The researchers scanned 32 women with dissociative identity disorder and 43 matched healthy controls, then measured total hippocampal volume and smaller hippocampal subfields. They found that the dissociative identity disorder group had smaller hippocampal volumes in several areas, including both CA1 regions, and that dissociative amnesia was the only dissociative symptom that showed a unique, significant link with smaller bilateral CA1 volume.

 

They also found that emotional neglect, among the trauma-related measures they tested, was the only one that showed a clear negative link with global hippocampal volume and several hippocampal subfields. This matters because it suggests that a memory-related brain structure may be tied specifically to dissociative amnesia, not just to dissociation in general.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one part of the broader bottom-up claim: problems in memory access and self-awareness can be linked to brain-level changes that sit below clear egoic self-awareness. It is consistent with the idea that a dissociative barrier can keep important autobiographical material partly cut off while the disturbance is carried in deeper memory systems. It does give useful support for the narrower point that dissociative disturbance can involve bottom-up memory circuitry rather than being only a matter of conscious choice, belief, or narrative style.

 

Reference

Dimitrova, L. I., Dean, S. L., Schlumpf, Y. R., Vissia, E. M., Nijenhuis, E. R. S., Chatzi, V., Jäncke, L., Veltman, D. J., Chalavi, S., & Reinders, A. A. T. S. (2023). A neurostructural biomarker of dissociative amnesia: A hippocampal study in dissociative identity disorder. Psychological Medicine, 53(3), 805-813. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0033291721002154.

Engel (1977)

 

The Study

Engel argued that the dominant biomedical model was too narrow because it left out the social, psychological, and behavioral parts of illness, and he proposed a biopsychosocial model instead. A biopsychosocial model means that health and disease should be understood through interacting biological, psychological, and social factors rather than body chemistry alone. He argued that a doctor must deal with the patient as a whole person, because what counts as illness, distress, care, and recovery is shaped by more than lab findings alone. This mattered because Engel was pushing medicine and psychiatry toward a more integrated model of human suffering and health care.

 

ISA relevance

This supports one broad and important part of ISA’s framework that distress cannot be understood well through a narrow body-only or cognition-only model. This is consistent with ISA’s broader bottom-up biopsychosocial orientation, because Engel explicitly argues that psychological and social factors are not optional extras but part of the structure of illness and care. Human dysregulation has to be understood as a whole-system process rather than as isolated symptoms or isolated thoughts.

 

Reference

Engel, G. L. (1977). The need for a new medical model: A challenge for biomedicine. Science, 196(4286), 129-136. https://doi.org/10.1126/science.847460

Eisenberger, Berkman, Inagaki, Rameson, Mashal, and Irwin (2010)

 

The Study

This was a randomized, double-blind, placebo-controlled experiment in 39 healthy adults. One group received low-dose endotoxin, which safely triggers an inflammatory response, and the other received placebo. The researchers then measured inflammatory markers, mood, and brain activity during a money-reward task.

 

Compared with placebo, the endotoxin group showed:

 

  • Higher inflammatory activity

  • More depressed mood

  • Lower activity in the left ventral striatum, a reward-related brain region that helps signal that something is worth pursuing

 

There were no major group differences in simple task performance, which matters because the main change appeared in the brain’s reward response rather than in basic effort or button pressing.

 

The reduced ventral striatum response also helped explain the link between the inflammatory challenge and increases in observer-rated depressed mood.

This matters because it shows that loss of drive or emotional vitality can begin as a body-based inflammatory process and then move upward into mood.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support the broader claim that bottom-up immune signaling can weaken motivation and reward responsiveness before a person has formed a clear conscious explanation for feeling flat or low. That is consistent with ISA’s larger framework in which body-state changes can bias feeling and drive-states first before cognition. The study supports one part of that larger chain, the immune-to-reward-to-mood pathway.

 

Reference

Eisenberger, N. I., Berkman, E. T., Inagaki, T. K., Rameson, L. T., Mashal, N. M., & Irwin, M. R. (2010). Inflammation-induced anhedonia: Endotoxin reduces ventral striatum responses to reward. Biological Psychiatry, 68(8), 748–754. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.biopsych.2010.06.010

Etkin, Egner, and Kalisch (2011)

 

The Study

The authors pulled together evidence on how the anterior cingulate cortex, or ACC, and the medial prefrontal cortex, or mPFC, help process fear and anxiety.

 

The anterior cingulate cortex (ACC) is a region near the middle front of the brain. It helps notice conflict, emotional pain, and possible problems, and it helps the brain decide what deserves attention.

 

The medial prefrontal cortex (mPFC) is a region in the front middle part of the brain. It helps make sense of emotional situations, judge what something means, and put some control on emotional reactions.

 

In plain language, the authors examined research showing how these brain areas help a person notice threat, evaluate what feels dangerous, and try to regulate the emotional response.

 

They argue against the older idea that one set of these regions is mainly “cognitive” and another is mainly “emotional.” Instead, they conclude that the more dorsal-caudal parts, meaning the upper and more back parts, are more involved in appraising threat and helping express negative emotion, while the more ventral-rostral parts, meaning the lower and more front parts, are more involved in regulating emotional responses through their interactions with limbic regions such as the amygdala, which helps detect emotional salience and threat. This matters because it shows that negative emotion is carried through organized brain circuits, not through vague forces or cognitive effort alone.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this supports one important part of the broader bottom-up picture, that enduring distress can become stabilized in real appraisal-and-regulation circuitry, rather than existing only as a story a person tells themselves.

 

This is consistent with the idea that a hidden trauma-like pattern can bias threat reading and weaken regulation before egoic self-awareness has fully clarified what is happening. It helps show a plausible neural pathway by which chronic affective bias could persist below cognitive control.

 

Reference

Etkin, A., Egner, T., & Kalisch, R. (2011). Emotional processing in the human amygdala. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 15(2), 85–93.

Felger and Lotrich (2013)

 

The Study

Felger and Lotrich (2013) review paper pulls together human and animal research showing that inflammatory cytokines, which are immune-system signaling proteins, can help shape depression in some people. The review explains that these signals can reach the brain, activate inflammatory pathways there, and alter important brain chemicals and systems, including:

 

  • Serotonin: Serotonin is a brain chemical that helps regulate mood, sleep, appetite, and emotional steadiness. It matters because inflammatory cytokines may reduce serotonin availability or change how it works. That helps explain why inflammation can be linked to low mood, anxiety, and depression-like symptoms.

  • Dopamine: Dopamine is a brain chemical involved in motivation, reward, energy, movement, and the feeling that something is worth pursuing. It is especially important because inflammation may interfere with dopamine signaling. That can help explain symptoms like low motivation, low pleasure, slowed behavior, and mental flatness.

  • Glutamate: Glutamate is one of the brain’s main excitatory messengers. It helps nerve cells communicate and plays a big role in learning, memory, and brain activity. Glutamate matters because inflammation may disturb glutamate balance. If that system is thrown off, it may contribute to cognitive problems, emotional dysregulation, and even damage from overstimulation in some cases.

  • Neuropeptides: Neuropeptides are small chemical messengers used by the brain and body. They often help regulate stress, pain, appetite, bonding, and emotional responses. They matter because inflammation does not affect only the classic neurotransmitters like serotonin and dopamine. It may also affect these broader signaling systems, which helps show how immune activity can influence behavior and emotional tone in a wide, multi-system way.

  • BDNF: BDNF stands for brain-derived neurotrophic factor. It helps brain cells survive, grow, connect, and adapt. In simple terms, it supports the brain’s ability to change, learn, and recover. BDNF matters because inflammation may lower or disrupt it. That is relevant because reduced brain plasticity may make depression more persistent and make recovery harder.

  • Basal ganglia: The basal ganglia are a group of deep brain structures involved in movement, habits, motivation, reward, and action selection. They help the brain decide what actions to start, repeat, or stop. They matter because inflammation appears to affect these circuits. That helps explain why inflammation-linked depression can include slowed movement, fatigue, loss of drive, and reduced reward responsiveness.

  • Ventral striatum: The ventral striatum is part of the brain’s reward system. It helps generate motivation, anticipation of reward, and the sense that something is appealing or worth effort. It matters because inflammatory activity may reduce function in this area. That is important because it gives a concrete brain-based explanation for anhedonia, meaning loss of pleasure, and for reduced motivation in depression

 

The review also describes effects on the HPA axis, which is the body’s main stress-hormone system and helps regulate cortisol. Taken together, these findings suggest that inflammation may influence the brain through several linked systems at once, including mood-related chemistry, motivation and reward circuits, stress regulation, and the brain’s capacity for adaptation and repair. That is what makes this paper especially useful for a bottom-up argument. It shows that depression-like states may partly arise from immune-brain dysregulation, not only from a person’s conscious thoughts or beliefs.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this review may support one important part of the broader bottom-up argument that distress can move through immune, brain, and stress-hormone pathways and then show up as changes in mood, drive, and behavior. That is consistent with ISA’s claim that some suffering is biologically distributed across systems rather than starting only cognitive story. It gives a strong research-facing bridge for the idea that stress-linked dysregulation may rise into self-experience from below reflective awareness rather than being caused only by top-down cognition.

 

Reference

Felger, J. C., & Lotrich, F. E. (2013). Inflammatory cytokines in depression: Neurobiological mechanisms and therapeutic implications. Neuroscience, 246, 199–229. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neuroscience.2013.04.060

Foster, Rinaman, and Cryan (2017)

 

The Study

It explains the gut-brain axis, which means the two-way communication system between the brain and the digestive system. The authors show that stress can affect the gut, and the gut can affect stress responses in return, through pathways such as the vagus nerve, immune signaling, hormones, and chemicals made by gut bacteria.

They also discuss tryptophan metabolism, meaning how the body processes a nutrient used in making brain chemicals such as serotonin, and short-chain fatty acids, which are small chemicals gut bacteria make when they break down fiber.

 

The paper matters because it shows that stress-related changes in mood, behavior, and body state do not come from the brain alone.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one important part of the broader bottom-up argument: stress-linked dysregulation can move through body systems and then feed back into mood, behavior, and regulation, rather than staying at the level of cognition alone.

 

This is consistent with ISA’s view that the Instinctual Consciousness (IC) is tied to embodied signaling and that emotional signaling can shape later cognition, not just the other way around.

 

In that sense, the paper supports how a hidden maladaptive pattern, such as a Malignant Complex, could be carried and reinforced through gut, immune, endocrine, and neural channels at once.

 

Reference

Foster, J. A., Rinaman, L., & Cryan, J. F. (2017). Stress and the gut-brain axis. Frontiers in Neuroscience, 11, 214. https://doi.org/10.3389/fnins.2017.00214

Freeman and Elmadjian (1947)

 

The Study

Freeman and Elmadjian gave glucose by mouth, which means sugar taken in as a drink, and then measured blood sugar, meaning glucose in the bloodstream, and lymphocyte levels, meaning the amount of a type of white blood cell involved in immune defense.

 

They compared 20 normal subjects with 35 psychotic subjects and found that, after the second glucose dose, blood sugar and lymphocyte levels moved in a strongly inverse way in the normal group, but much less so in the psychotic group.

In the normal group, glucose intake was followed by a clearer drop in circulating lymphocytes, which showed a stronger short-term regulatory shift in blood lymphocyte levels after glucose, while in the psychotic group that response was weaker and less coordinated pattern.

 

The authors interpreted this difference as suggesting that the psychotic subjects’ adrenal stress-hormone system, especially the outer adrenal layer that helps regulate stress and metabolism, was not responding in the usual way.

 

This mattered because it was an early attempt to show that severe mental disturbance might be linked to measurable connection between emotional disturbances, immune systems, and metabolic body regulation.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one narrow but important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework: the idea that psychological disturbance may be reflected in endocrine-linked and immune-linked body regulation before clear reflective explanation is available. This is consistent with a bottom-up reading in which distress is not only a matter of conscious thought, but may also involve body systems that regulate stress, energy, and immune activity.

 

Reference

Freeman, H., & Elmadjian, F. (1947). The relationship between blood sugar and lymphocyte levels in normal and psychotic subjects. Psychosomatic Medicine, 9(4), 226-233. https://doi.org/10.1097/00006842-194707000-00002

Gorman, J. M., et al. (1984)

 

The Study

This was a small early experiment on panic and breathing. The researchers studied 12 patients diagnosed with panic disorder and 4 healthy volunteers while they overbreathed room air and while they breathed air containing 5% carbon dioxide, or CO2.

 

The 5% CO2 condition was used because it roughly matches the amount of CO2 normally present in the lungs, so it changed breathing chemistry without simply copying the low-CO2 state caused by ordinary overbreathing.

 

Seven of the 12 patients had a panic attack during the CO2 condition, while 3 panicked during room-air hyperventilation. Eight (8) also panicked during sodium lactate infusion.

This matters because it suggests that, in some panic-prone people, bodily respiratory shifts can help trigger panic directly.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one narrow but important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework that respiratory dysregulation can help generate panic before clear reflective explanation forms. That is consistent with the idea that once a hidden fear-based pattern is activated, the body can intensify the state through breathing chemistry and alarm signaling rather than through thought alone. It supports the more limited claim that a Malignant Complex can exploit the respiratory channel as a plausible bottom-up pathway in panic-like dysregulation.

 

Reference

Gorman, J. M., Askanazi, J., Liebowitz, M. R., Fyer, A. J., Stein, J., Kinney, J. M., & Klein, D. F. (1984). Response to hyperventilation in a group of patients with panic disorder. American Journal of Psychiatry, 141(7), 857-861.

Harb, Liuzzi, Huggins, Webb, Fitzgerald, Krukowski, deRoon-Cassini, and Larson (2024)

 

The Study

This was a longitudinal brain-imaging study of 152 adults who had recently gone through a trauma. About two weeks after that event, the researchers measured resting-state fMRI, which means a brain scan showing which regions tend to work together while a person is resting, and they also measured childhood abuse history.

 

They found that more childhood abuse was linked to stronger connectivity between the:

 

  • Amygdala, which helps detect threat and fear

  • Precuneus, which is involved in self-focused attention and inner thought

 

That stronger amygdala-precuneus connection statistically helped explain higher anxiety symptoms six months later, but it did not significantly explain later posttraumatic stress symptoms, and a secondary analysis for depression was also not significant.

 

The authors suggest this pattern may reflect lasting threat vigilance, meaning the brain stays more alert for danger, or more negative self-focused processing after early abuse.

 

This matters because it shows one way early abuse may remain biologically active as a later anxiety vulnerability, rather than simply becoming “the past.”

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one early part of the broader bottom-up claim that early abuse can leave a threat-related neural bias in place that later helps shape anxiety after a new adult trauma, before a person has a full cognitive explanation for why they are reacting that way. That is consistent with ISA’s bottom-up position that emotional signaling can precede cognitive interpretation.

 

Reference

Harb, F., Liuzzi, M. T., Huggins, A. A., Webb, E. K., Fitzgerald, J. M., Krukowski, J. L., deRoon-Cassini, T. A., & Larson, C. L. (2024). Childhood maltreatment and amygdala-mediated anxiety and posttraumatic stress following adult trauma. Biological Psychiatry: Global Open Science, 4(4), 100312. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.bpsgos.2024.100312

Harper, R. M., et al. (2005)

 

The Study

The review article explains that breathing, or respiration, is controlled by neural systems, meaning connected brain and nerve circuits, rather than by one simple reflex alone. The basic breathing rhythm is organized in the brainstem, the lower part of the brain that helps run vital functions, while other brain regions help adjust breathing for:

 

  • Carbon dioxide levels: This means how much carbon dioxide, or CO2, is in the blood and brain-related fluid. CO2 is one of the main chemical signals that helps the brain decide whether breathing should speed up, slow down, get deeper, or get shallower. When CO2 rises, the brain usually pushes breathing harder to blow it off. When CO2 falls, breathing drive can ease back.

  • Sleep state: This means whether a person is awake, lightly asleep, deeply asleep, or in REM sleep. Breathing is not controlled in exactly the same way across those states. Sleep changes how breathing is regulated, which is one reason breathing problems can show up or worsen during sleep.

  • Behavior: This means breathing changes to match what a person is doing. For example, breathing shifts during talking, exercise, singing, swimming, breath-holding, or focused voluntary control. So breathing is not just automatic. It also adjusts to actions and tasks.

  • Emotion: This means feelings such as fear, stress, calm, grief, or excitement can change breathing pattern. A person may start breathing faster, more shallowly, more irregularly, or more slowly depending on emotional state. In other words, breathing reflects emotion, not just oxygen demand.

 

Later reviews of this same field describe breathing control as distributed across medullary and pontine centers in the brainstem. This means breathing is not run by one tiny switch in one spot. Instead, several linked regions work together. The medulla and pons are two parts of the brainstem, the lower part of the brain that handles vital functions. Medullary centers are heavily involved in generating the basic breathing rhythm, while pontine centers help shape and fine-tune the breathing pattern.  

There was also added input from cortical and limbic regions. This means higher brain areas also influence breathing. Cortical regions are areas of the brain involved in voluntary action, attention, planning, and conscious control.

 

Limbic regions are areas involved in emotion, threat, memory, and motivation, such as the amygdala and related forebrain structures. These areas help breathing match emotional, behavioral, and anticipated bodily needs, not just raw chemistry.

This matters because it shows that breathing is part of whole-body regulation and can change with both body chemistry and brain state.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework that the respiratory channel. If stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation is affecting central regulation, breathing is a plausible path by which that disturbance could spread into body state and then shape arousal, feeling, well below cognition. It is consistent with ISA’s claim that dysregulation may move through neurally organized breathing systems before a person can clearly account for it in words.

 

Reference

Harper, R. M., et al. (2005). Neural control of respiration. Clinical and Experimental Pharmacology and Physiology, 32(1–2), 22–28.

Hillman, J. (1966)

 

The Study

Hillman examines why masturbation can carry shame, guilt, fantasy, and inner conflict even though he says the act cannot be explained well just by biology or by outside moral rules alone. He argues that an inhibition is not the same as a prohibition: A prohibition is an outside ban, while an inhibition is an inner restraint or check that can belong to the activity itself.

 

In his model, the urge and the restraint are part of the same psychological pattern, and when outside authority hardens that split, it can intensify guilt, compulsive repetition, and displaced fantasy instead of resolving the conflict. The paper matters because it tries to move the issue away from simple moral blame or simple biology and toward a deeper account of instinct, fantasy, and conscience within psychic life.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one narrow but useful part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. The paper treats conflict as arising partly inside instinctive and imaginal life, not only from conscious choice or clear egoic reasoning, which is consistent with ISA’s claim that important patterns may begin below full self-awareness. It also suggests that a person’s symptoms or repetitive conflict may reflect a split within a drive pattern rather than a simple moral failure, which fits ISA’s general interest in the hidden inner patterns of a Malignant Complex.

 

Reference

Hillman, J. (1966). Towards the archetypal model for the masturbation inhibition. Journal of Analytical Psychology, 11(1), 49-62. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1465-5922.1966.00049.x

Hillman, J. (1975)

 

The Study

m.

 

Reference

Hillman, J. (1975). Re-visioning psychology. Harper & Row.

Hillman, J. (1975)

 

The Study

m.

 

Reference

Hillman, J. (1979). The dream and the underworld. Harper & Row.

Hillman (1988)

 

The Study

This is a theoretical paper, not an experiment or outcome study. Hillman examines the relationship between silence, imagination, and democracy, and argues that human rights depend in part on freedom of imagination and aesthetic sensitivity, meaning the ability to feel and respond to form, beauty, and meaning.

 

He treats silence not as mere passivity, but as something that must be practiced, because inner quiet helps make room for imagination and judgment. In this argument, silence helps people develop the inner freedom needed for ethical judgment, political decision, and meaningful speech rather than empty reaction. The paper matters because it pushes back against the idea that speech alone is freedom, and instead says that silence can be a necessary condition for real thought, perception, and human dignity.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, the paper is consistent with the idea that important psychological material does not always begin in clear verbal thought, and that silence may be necessary before deeper affective or imaginal material can come into awareness. This is consistent with ISA’s caution against forcing quick top-down explanation when the deeper pattern is not yet fully recognizable.

 

Reference

Hillman, J. (1988). The right to remain silent. The Journal of Humanistic Education and Development, 26(4), 141-153. https://doi.org/10.1002/j.2164-4683.1988.tb00322.x

Hillman, J. (1989)

 

The Study

m.

 

Reference

Hillman, J. (1989). A blue fire: Selected writings (T. Moore, Ed.). Harper & Row.

Hillman, J. (1998)

The Study

m.

 

Reference

Hillman, J. (1998). The myth of analysis: Three essays in archetypal psychology. Northwestern University Press.

Hillman, J. (2000)

The Study

m.

 

Reference

Hillman, J. (2000). The force of character: And the lasting life. Random House Publishing Group.

Hillman, J., & Ventura, M. (1992) 

The Study

m.

 

Reference

Hillman, J., & Ventura, M. (1992). We’ve had a hundred years of psychotherapy - and the world’s getting worse. HarperSanFrancisco.

Horney (1942)

 

The Study

In Self-Analysis, Horney asks whether a person can use parts of psychoanalysis on themselves to better understand their own problems. She argues that what was then called neurosis is not only about obvious symptoms, but also about deeper personality difficulties and recurring life problems, so self-study must look past surface complaints.

 

She says the most important aspects of self-analysis work because the person themselves is in the best position to know their own inner life better than any expert, since they live with their thoughts, feelings, and reactions every day. At the same time, she warns that this self-knowledge is often blocked by resistance, meaning emotional barriers that keep painful or threatening material out of awareness.

 

The main difficulty is not lack of intelligence, but emotional factors that blind people to unconscious forces, which means hidden inner pressures outside of cognitive awareness. This matters because Horney presents self-understanding as possible but limited, requiring careful self-observation, strong honesty with oneself, and at times outside help.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one limited but important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework: the idea that a person’s suffering can be organized by hidden emotional forces that remain partly outside clear egoic self-awareness. This is consistent with ISA’s claim that stress-linked or trauma-like patterns may stay active behind defensive barriers, and that what ISA would interpret as a Protective Ego Construct or a Dissociation Field can block honest contact with the deeper source of the problem. But this support is indirect. Horney did not study brain, autonomic, endocrine, immune, respiratory, interoceptive, or drive-state pathways, so this does not directly prove the body-based side of ISA’s larger model or ISA’s own methods.

 

Reference

Horney, K. (1942). Self-analysis. W. W. Norton & Company.

Hosseini-Kamkar, et al. (2023)

 

The Study

This study was a meta-analysis, which means it combined results from many earlier studies to look for a larger pattern. The researchers reviewed 83 task-based fMRI studies with 5,242 participants to test whether adverse life experiences were linked to later changes in brain function across emotion, memory, inhibitory control, and reward tasks. They found that adversity was associated with greater amygdala reactivity, meaning a stronger alarm response in a threat-related brain region, and lower prefrontal cortex reactivity, meaning weaker engagement of brain areas involved in regulation and control.

 

These patterns were seen in adults and were clearest in people exposed to severe threat and trauma. This matters because it suggests that adversity may leave a lasting corticolimbic bias, meaning a lasting shift in brain systems tied to emotion, threat, and regulation, that can affect how a person handles later stress.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this study supports the neuro side of ISA’s bottom-up model. It is consistent with the idea that old adversity can remain biologically active in threat and regulation systems long after the original events are over. That fits ISA’s broader claim that cognition may be downstream, meaning the body and survival systems act first, while cognition comes later.

 

Reference

Hosseini-Kamkar, N., et al. (2023). Adverse life experiences and brain function: A meta-analysis of functional magnetic resonance imaging findings. JAMA Network Open, 6(11), e2339965.

Karimi, K., et al. (2000)

 

The Study

This was a lab study using mouse bone-marrow-derived mast cells, not a study in human patients.

 

The researchers wanted to know whether Substance P, a small chemical messenger used by nerves, could switch on mast cells. Mast cells are immune cells that store and release inflammatory chemicals. They do not always react the same way. Their sensitivity can change depending on the biological environment around them.

 

To test this, the scientists first grew mast cells under different lab conditions. Some cells were exposed to stem cell factor and interleukin-4, which are immune-related growth and signaling molecules that help shape how mast cells develop and behave. Other cells were grown in a comparison condition.

 

They found that the mast cells exposed to stem cell factor and interleukin-4 became much more able to react to Substance P. In other words, Substance P could now trigger those mast cells to activate.

 

When the mast cells activated, they released beta-hexosaminidase, which is a lab marker showing that the cells had emptied some of their internal granules. Those granules are like tiny storage packets filled with substances the cell can release during an immune response.

 

The cells also released leukotriene C4 and prostaglandin D2. These are inflammatory fat-based signaling molecules, often called lipid mediators. They help drive inflammation and can affect things like swelling, blood flow, smooth muscle activity, and allergic-type reactions.

 

Put simply, Substance P did not activate mast cells equally under all conditions. The immune environment changed the mast cells first, and that made them more responsive. That matters because it shows a real link between the nervous system and the immune system. A nerve-related signal can trigger immune activation, but only when the cells have been biologically primed to react.

 

By contrast, cells grown under the comparison condition with IL-3 were much less responsive.

 

The study also found that the added responsiveness was not simply because the cells had changed into a different mast-cell type. This matters because it shows that the immune environment can change whether a nerve-linked signal is able to trigger mast-cell activation.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one small but important part of a broader bottom-up model that a nerve-linked signal can help activate immune cells when the surrounding biological conditions make those cells more reactive. This is consistent with the idea that stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation may move through neuroimmune pathways before a person has a clear cognitive explanation for what is happening.

 

Reference

Karimi, K., Redegeld, F. A., Blom, R., & Nijkamp, F. P. (2000). Stem cell factor and interleukin-4 increase responsiveness of mast cells to substance P. Experimental Hematology, 28(6), 626-634. https://doi.org/10.1016/S0301-472X(00)00161-2

Kotulla, Elsenbruch, Roderigo, Brinkhoff, Wegner, Engler, Schedlowski, and Benson (2018)

 

The Study

Kotulla and colleagues tested whether a short, lab-made burst of inflammation could change how healthy people think about themselves. They used a small dose of LPS, which is a bacterial substance often used in research to trigger a temporary immune response, and they compared it with placebo.

 

The LPS raised inflammatory cytokines, which are immune signaling proteins, especially TNF-α and IL-6, and it also lowered positive mood.

 

It did not clearly increase hopelessness, general low self-esteem, or intolerance of uncertainty. The one small exception was body-related self-esteem, which dropped a little and was linked to higher TNF-α.

 

This matters because it suggests that inflammation may shift mood first, while broader negative self-beliefs do not clearly shift at the same time. The main exception was a small drop in body-related self-esteem, suggesting that negative body image may be more sensitive to early inflammatory effects than other self-related beliefs.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this study supports one narrow but important part of a possible bottom-up pathway by which a Malignant Complex, meaning a hidden trauma-shaped pattern of pain, fear, and defense, could affect mood through the body.

 

ISA would read this as a possible hijack route of an unconscious predictive pattern that helps drive immune activation, the resulting inflammatory signals may lower mood before a person forms a full negative explanation about themselves.

 

That reading is consistent with this study, because inflammation changed mood more clearly in body-related self-esteem than broader self-related beliefs associated with cognition.

 

Reference

Kotulla, S., Elsenbruch, S., Roderigo, T., Brinkhoff, A., Wegner, A., Engler, H., Schedlowski, M., & Benson, S. (2018). Does human experimental endotoxemia impact negative cognitions related to the self? Frontiers in Behavioral Neuroscience, 12, Article 183. https://doi.org/10.3389/fnbeh.2018.00183

Kumsta, Entringer, Hellhammer, and Wüst (2007)

Also found in 24. Lawrence and Scofield (2024)

 

The Study

Kumsta and colleagues examined whether early adversity was linked to altered glucocorticoid receptor sensitivity, meaning a change in how strongly the body responds to cortisol and how well the stress response can shut back down.

 

A glucocorticoid receptor is a cell docking site for cortisol, the main stress hormone. When cortisol binds to these receptors, it helps the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal, or HPA, stress system slow back down through negative feedback, which is the body’s shut-off signal for the stress response..

 

The study reported that early adversity was associated with a measurable shift in this feedback-related stress regulation, not just with mood or self-report. That matters because it suggests that early adversity may become biologically embedded at the hormone-regulation level.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this supports one important endocrine segment of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. It fits the idea that stress-linked dysregulation can move through body-based hormone pathways before cognition of what is driving the state.

 

In ISA language, this gives one plausible biological route by which a hidden trauma-shaped pattern, such as a Malignant Complex, could help keep the system biased toward old danger expectations, Prediction Errors, through altered stress feedback.

 

Reference

Kumsta, R., Entringer, S., Hellhammer, D. H., & Wüst, S. (2007). Glucocorticoid receptor sensitivity and early adversity. Psychoneuroendocrinology, 32(3), 225–231.

Laffey and Kavanagh (2002)

 

The Study

The review examined hypocapnia, which means abnormally low carbon dioxide in arterial blood, and respiratory alkalosis, which means the blood becomes too alkaline after too much carbon dioxide is breathed out.

 

The review argues that this state can matter clinically because it can:

 

  • Narrow blood vessels in the brain. When carbon dioxide drops too low, brain blood vessels tighten. This means less blood can move through them.

  • Reduce cerebral blood flow and cerebral oxygen delivery. Because those vessels tighten, the brain may get less blood and less oxygen. This can help explain symptoms like dizziness, lightheadedness, confusion, visual changes, or feeling unreal or panicked.

  • Upset the balance between oxygen delivery and oxygen use in the body. Even if oxygen is present in the blood, the body may not deliver or use it as smoothly when breathing chemistry is off. In simple terms, overbreathing can throw the system out of balance and put extra stress on the body.

 

The relevance is this: hypocapnia and respiratory alkalosis can directly worsen bodily distress. That is why the paper treats breathing chemistry as important in its own right, not just as a secondary symptom.

 

It also notes that low carbon dioxide may sometimes be used briefly in special situations, such as dangerously high pressure inside the skull, but that this is a narrow exception rather than a general benefit.

 

The larger point is that breathing chemistry is not just a side effect. It can act as a real body-level regulator and may worsen illness when it shifts too far.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this study supports one narrow but important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. The paper itself does not test a Malignant Complex directly, but it is consistent with the ISA idea that a hidden, trauma-shaped pattern of fear, pain, and defense may influence breathing outside cognitive egoic awareness.

 

In ISA terms, a Malignant Complex can be understood as a partial personality-like pattern that does not just shape thoughts. It also recruits bodily processes, including overbreathing, in ways that help preserve a familiar but unhealthy internal balance.

 

If that happens, breathing off too much carbon dioxide can lower CO2 and push the body into respiratory alkalosis, which means the blood becomes too alkaline. That shift can narrow blood vessels in the brain, reduce brain blood flow, and add dizziness, confusion, breath urgency, and bodily alarm.

 

From an ISA view, this helps explain how the person may feel the physiological distress first while remaining unaware of the deeper pattern driving it. The study supports the more limited claim that breathing can become one pathway through which a Malignant Complex helps maintain maladaptive psychogenic homeostasis, meaning a stuck and unhealthy bodily-psychological balance.

 

Reference

Laffey, J. G., & Kavanagh, B. P. (2002). Hypocapnia and respiratory alkalosis in critical illness. Thorax, 57(8), 708–713.

Lanius, Frewen, Vermetten, and Yehuda (2015)

 

The Study

In this review, the authors looked at fear conditioning, which is how the brain learns to connect certain cues with danger, and at the brain circuits involved in threat detection and fear response.

 

Their main point is that after overwhelming danger, the brain’s alarm system can stay too active even when the original threat is over. In plain language, the nervous system can keep reacting as if the danger is still happening. This matters because a person may feel fear, vigilance, or alarm before they can clearly explain why.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this supports the upstream part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. It is consistent with the idea that a Malignant Complex can function like a partial personality, meaning a split-off trauma-shaped pattern that reacts even when the person is not choosing it on purpose. In that state, the threat system can switch on first and bring its own body response with it, such as alarm, tension, hypervigilance, shutdown, or urgent fear, before clear cognitive self-awareness catches up.

 

ISA would interpret this as part of Repetition Compulsion, meaning the person is pulled back into an old survival pattern again and again, not simply because of bad thinking, but because the older threat-state is still stored in living emotional and bodily form.

 

That repeated return may help reopen State-Dependent Memory, which means memories and emotional patterns that become easier to access when the person re-enters the same body-state in which they were first learned.

 

From an ISA view, this reopening may create a narrow chance for plasticity, meaning the brain and nervous system may become more able to revise the older Prediction Errors, or outdated danger expectations, that the Malignant Complex keeps repeating.

 

This study does not directly prove that whole ISA sequence, but it is consistent with the idea that threat circuitry can react first, while later thought often comes afterward and tries to explain a state that is already underway.

 

Reference

Lanius, R. A., Frewen, P. A., Vermetten, E., & Yehuda, R. (2015). Fear conditioning and the neural circuitry of trauma. European Journal of Psychotraumatology, 6, 27386.

Lanius et al. (2002)

 

The Study

This was a small fMRI study, not a review. The researchers studied 7 people with sexual-abuse-related PTSD who showed a dissociative response during traumatic script-driven imagery, meaning they mentally re-entered a trauma reminder while their brain activity was scanned, and compared them with 10 control subjects.

 

They found that when these PTSD subjects dissociated, their dissociation scores rose sharply, but their heart rate did not significantly rise, which suggests a kind of shut-down or dampened body arousal rather than the more familiar fight-or-flight pattern.

At the same time, they showed stronger activation than controls in several brain regions, especially parts of the following:

 

  • Medial prefrontal cortex: A front-middle part of the brain involved in self-reflection, meaning-making, and helping regulate emotional reactions. It often helps you relate an experience to yourself and judge what it means.

  • Anterior cingulate: A brain area involved in attention, emotional conflict, error detection, and stress regulation. In simple terms, it helps notice that something feels wrong, important, or emotionally charged.

  • Temporal areas: Parts of the brain near the sides of the head. They help with memory, emotion, language, and recognizing meaningful sounds or social signals.

  • Parietal areas: Parts of the brain toward the upper back region of the head. They help with body awareness, attention, and knowing where you are in space.

  • Occipital cortex: The main visual processing area at the back of the brain. It helps the brain take in and organize what you see.

 

The authors argued that this pattern may reflect a dissociative style in which higher brain regions help dampen emotional and autonomic activation, which means the person is still reacting to the trauma reminder but in a more detached, less bodily aroused way. This matters because it suggests that not all PTSD reactions look the same, meaning some people relive with strong arousal, while others dissociate with a different drive-state reactions with dream-like spatial awareness.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this study supports one important part of the broader bottom-up argument, that a trauma reminder can trigger a dissociative state that shows up in brain activation and autonomic response before cognition and reality-testing. This is consistent with the idea that a hidden trauma-shaped pattern may stay partly outside egoic self-awareness and be managed through something like a Dissociative Field, where distress is handled by separation and dampening rather than by clear feeling and naming.

 

Reference

Lanius, R. A., Williamson, P. C., Boksman, K., Densmore, M., Gupta, M. A., Neufeld, R. W. J., Gati, J. S., & Menon, R. S. (2002). Brain activation during script-driven imagery induced dissociative responses in PTSD: A functional magnetic resonance imaging investigation. Biological Psychiatry, 52(4), 305-311. https://doi.org/10.1016/S0006-3223(02)01367-7

Lanius et al. (2010)

 

The Study

The authors reviewed clinical and brain-imaging evidence suggesting that some people with PTSD show a dissociative subtype, marked especially by depersonalization and derealization, meaning feeling detached from oneself or feeling that the world is unreal.

 

They argue that this subtype differs from the more common hyperaroused form of PTSD, instead of too little control over fear circuits, it appears to involve emotional overmodulation, meaning too much top-down dampening of emotion by midline prefrontal regions, which are front brain areas involved in regulation, acting on limbic regions such as the amygdala, which helps generate fear responses.

 

The review also says dissociation involves disruption and fragmentation of normally integrated functions such as cognition, memory, identity, body awareness, and perception of self and environment, and that altered memory encoding and retrieval may help explain why traumatic experience can feel compartmentalized. This matters because the paper offers a neurobiological model for why some trauma responses look more shut down, numb, and detached rather than visibly panicked or hyperaroused.

 

ISA relevance

This supports one important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. It is consistent with the idea that stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation can move through brain-based affective circuits in a way that leaves important emotional material only partly available to clear egoic self-awareness. In ISA language, that makes the paper relevant to the idea of a Dissociative Field, because it describes a defensive pattern in which experience is not fully integrated and emotion is overcontrolled rather than fully felt.

 

Reference

Lanius, R. A., Vermetten, E., Loewenstein, R. J., Brand, B., Schmahl, C., Bremner, J. D., & Spiegel, D. (2010). Emotion modulation in PTSD: Clinical and neurobiological evidence for a dissociative subtype. American Journal of Psychiatry, 167(6), 640-647. https://doi.org/10.1176/appi.ajp.2009.09081168

Lanius et al. (2018)

 

The Study

The authors reviewed brain-imaging and stress-system research on dissociation, meaning a split in awareness, memory, feeling, or sense of self, across PTSD and other trauma-related disorders. They said the evidence points to altered functional connectivity, which means changes in how brain regions work together, especially between the:

 

  • Prefrontal cortex: The brain’s control and regulation region. When its connectivity is altered, it may not work normally with emotion and self-related networks, so grounding, emotional control, and clear self-monitoring can weaken or become oddly overcontrolled in dissociative states.

  • Amygdala: The brain’s threat alarm region. When its connectivity is altered, threat signals may not be integrated normally with control and body-awareness regions, which can distort fear, emotional salience, and stress responding.

  • Insula: The region that helps you sense your internal body state, such as tension, pain, heartbeat, or gut-level feeling. When its connectivity is altered, body signals may not link normally with emotion and self-awareness networks, which can contribute to feeling cut off from your body or emotions.

  • Periaqueductal gray: A midbrain survival region involved in freezing, shutdown, pain control, and defensive reactions. When its connectivity is altered, basic defense responses may become coordinated abnormally with higher brain regions, which can help explain dissociative reactions such as numbness, shutdown, or unreal feeling under threat.

 

In simple terms, the review suggests that dissociation involves changes in systems linked to threat detection, body-state awareness, emotional control, and defensive responses.

 

The paper also reviews evidence involving both the:

 

  • Opioid stress systems: These are the brain’s own opioid chemicals and receptors, such as endorphins, enkephalins, dynorphin, and the mu, delta, and kappa opioid receptors. In plain language, they help regulate pain, emotional pain, soothing, attachment, and shutdown under stress.

In Panksepp’s work, the closest fit is , meaning separation distress and social pain. Panksepp and Watt specifically say the PANIC/GRIEF system is regulated by prosocial neuropeptides including , and older opioid work showed that opioids can reduce separation-distress signals in young mammals.

In the Lanius review, this matters because they argue that mechanisms may be especially relevant to dissociative symptoms and , meaning a person becomes too shut down, numb, unreal, or cut off rather than overwhelmed. So, in the context of that study, the opioid side is less about raw fear and more about stress-linked detachment, analgesia, and separation-distress regulation that may slide into dissociative shutdown.

  • Candocannabinoid stress systems: This is the brain and body’s cannabinoid signaling system, mainly anandamide, 2-AG, and cannabinoid receptors like CB1 and CB2. In simple terms, it helps tune how strongly the brain reacts to threat, stress, and emotionally charged cues.The clearest Panksepp match is , because the endocannabinoid system strongly modulates fear circuits, especially in the amygdala, helps shape fear learning, and is important for , meaning learning that a cue is no longer dangerous.

  • The clearest Panksepp match is , because the endocannabinoid system strongly modulates fear circuits, especially in the amygdala, helps shape fear learning, and is important for , meaning learning that a cue is no longer dangerous.

RAGE is more indirect but still plausible, because this system also helps regulate aggression and reactive overarousal, although that is not the main emphasis of the Lanius review. In that review, the cannabinoid side is tied more to emotion undermodulation, meaning the fight-or-flight part of the defense system is too active rather than too shut down. So, in the study’s terms, the endocannabinoid system fits best with dysregulated FEAR circuitry first, and only secondarily with RAGE where threat activation spills into reactive aggression.

 

This part of the study proposes the two Opioid and Candocannabinoid stress systems  as broad neurobiological models of dissociation rather than reporting one new tested mechanism.

 

A useful limit is that the review itself does not directly test Jungian archetypal imagery, and it does not itself present the specific finding that depersonalization severity tracks lower connectivity in default-mode self-processing regions.

 

The study found that the stronger a person’s depersonalization or derealization symptoms were, the less normally certain self-related brain regions were working together at rest. In particular, there was reduced connectivity, meaning weaker coordination, between the perigenual anterior cingulate and the ventromedial prefrontal cortex inside part of the anterior default mode network.

 

The study also found altered synchrony, meaning the timing of activity was not lining up normally, both within parts of the default mode network and between the default mode network and the central executive network, which helps with focused thinking and control. In simple terms, the networks involved in feeling like “this is me, this is my experience” were not communicating as smoothly, and that disruption tracked with feeling unreal, detached from oneself, or cut off from the world:

 

  • Perigenual anterior cingulate: This is a front midline brain region near the front of the cingulate cortex. In this context, it helps link emotion, self-related evaluation, and regulation. When its connectivity is reduced, the brain may have more trouble integrating emotional experience into a stable sense of self.

  • Ventromedial prefrontal cortex: This is a lower middle part of the prefrontal cortex, just behind the forehead. In this context, it is involved in valuation, emotional meaning, safety signaling, and self-related processing. When it is less well connected with nearby self-related regions, a person may feel more detached, unreal, or less anchored in their own experience.

  • Anterior default mode network (DMN): The default mode network is a set of brain regions that is often active during rest, daydreaming, memory, and inward reflection. The anterior part refers to the more front-centered portion of that network, especially regions involved in thinking about oneself and one’s inner state. When the study says there was reduced connectivity in the ventral anterior DMN, it means the front self-related part of the resting network was less coordinated in people with stronger depersonalization and derealization symptoms.

 

The same update explains that these regions are linked to self-referential processing, this means how the brain handles experience as related to oneself. It includes things like “this is happening to me,” “this feeling is mine,” or “this memory belongs to my life.” The reason this matters here is that depersonalization and derealization involve a weakened or distorted sense of being connected to one’s own experience, and these altered network findings fit that pattern.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. It is consistent with the idea that trauma-like dissociation can involve brain-network changes in threat, body-state, and self-processing systems while the person’s deeper distress remains only partly available to clear egoic self-awareness. That gives ISA an indirect bridge for talking about a Dissociative Field, meaning a split-off barrier in awareness, without claiming that the review itself uses ISA language. This does not directly prove ISA constructs or ISA methods, and the strongest support here is for the brain-network part of the chain, not for the full ISA model.

 

Reference

Lanius, R. A., Boyd, J. E., McKinnon, M. C., Nicholson, A. A., Frewen, P., Vermetten, E., Jetly, R., & Spiegel, D. (2018). A review of the neurobiological basis of trauma-related dissociation and its relation to cannabinoid- and opioid-mediated stress response: A transdiagnostic, translational approach. Current Psychiatry Reports, 20(12), 118. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11920-018-0983-y

Lawrence and Scofield (2024)

Also found in 20. Kumsta, Entringer, Hellhammer, and Wüst (2007)

 

The Study

The review looked at research on PTSD and the HPA axis. The HPA axis is the body’s main hormone stress system. It includes the hypothalamus and pituitary gland in the brain, plus the adrenal glands above the kidneys. Together, these parts help the body react to stress and then calm back down.

 

The authors argue that PTSD is often linked to unusually strong negative feedback in this system. Negative feedback means the body’s built-in shut-off process. In a healthy system, cortisol, the main stress hormone, helps signal when enough stress response has happened and it is time to slow things down. In this review, the pattern suggests that the system may shut down too strongly or too fast, even when cortisol levels are already low.

 

How the Review Connects Trauma Exposure to Glucocorticoid Receptor Sensitivity

The review makes this link carefully. It does not say that trauma automatically causes glucocorticoid receptor changes in every person. Instead, it says that after a traumatic event, some people develop PTSD, and in PTSD the research often shows stronger glucocorticoid receptor activity, which could make the body’s stress system shut down more strongly through negative feedback.

 

Glucocorticoid receptors are the cell “docking sites” that receive cortisol’s signal. Cortisol is the body’s main stress hormone. If these receptors are more numerous or more sensitive, the body may respond more strongly to even a small amount of cortisol. That means the HPA stress system may get the message to slow down faster or harder than expected.

 

The paper ties this idea to several kinds of evidence. It notes reports of increased numbers of sensitive glucocorticoid receptors in people with PTSD, including in lymphocytes, which are white blood cells. It also points to prospective research suggesting that higher receptor levels before deployment predicted later PTSD symptoms, and to studies showing that greater trauma exposure was linked to later increases in receptor number and lower cortisol stress responses.

 

The review also uses the dexamethasone suppression test to support this model. Dexamethasone is a drug that acts in a cortisol-like way. If the body’s glucocorticoid receptors are extra sensitive, this drug should suppress the stress system more strongly. The review says that stronger suppression in PTSD fits the idea of increased receptor sensitivity and stronger negative feedback. Still, the overall pattern in much of the literature they discuss points toward lower cortisol being common in PTSD.

 

The problem with lower cortisol

Why does this matter? Because cortisol does more than handle stress. It also helps control inflammation. Inflammation is the body’s immune defense response. It is useful in the short term, but harmful if it stays too active for too long. If cortisol regulation is off, the body may lose some of its normal anti-inflammatory control, which means it may not calm inflammation as well as it should.

 

The paper links this to chronic inflammation, meaning long-lasting immune activation that does not fully settle down. Over time, that may raise the risk of physical illness in several body systems:

 

  • Weaker anti-inflammatory control: This means the body may be less able to calm down its own immune response. Normally, stress hormones such as cortisol help keep inflammation from staying too high for too long. If that control weakens, the immune system may stay more irritated or activated than it should.

  • Chronic inflammation: This means long-lasting, low-grade immune activation. Instead of the body turning inflammation on for a short time and then shutting it off, the system stays partly activated over time. That can slowly strain tissues and organs.

  • Greater risk of physical illness such as cardiovascular, metabolic, autoimmune, neurocognitive: This means the person may have a higher chance of developing health problems in several body systems.
    Cardiovascular means the heart and blood vessels.
    Metabolic means how the body handles energy, blood sugar, and weight.
    Autoimmune means the immune system may start attacking the body’s own tissues by mistake.
    Neurocognitive means problems involving brain function, such as memory, attention, or clear thinking.

  • Some women’s health problems: This means the review also links this stress-and-inflammation pattern to certain health problems that affect women more directly or more often. This can include areas tied to hormones, reproduction, or female-predominant immune conditions. The phrase is broad, so it points to a possible area of risk rather than one single disease.

 

The review is careful not to overclaim. It says this pathway is important and plausible, but not fully proven. In other words, the paper argues that HPA-axis dysregulation may be one real way severe stress becomes embodied, but better long-term studies are still needed to show exactly how this process unfolds over time.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support the endocrine branch of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. It is consistent with the idea that a hidden survival pattern could keep stress-hormone regulation locked in a body-first loop outside cognition.

 

This review supports ISA’s position that a Malignant Complex can hijack bottom-up physiological processes, especially through the endocrine and immune systems. The paper shows that severe stress-linked dysregulation is not only a matter of cognition, but can become embedded in stress-hormone regulation, glucocorticoid receptor sensitivity, and inflammatory control.

 

In ISA language, that is consistent with the idea that the hidden maladaptive survival pattern of a Malignant Complex may keep the body locked in an old defensive loop beneath egoic self-awareness, so the physiology keeps reacting even when the person does not fully understand why.

 

This also fits ISA’s idea of Psychogenic Transduction, where unresolved emotional burden is carried through bodily pathways and later expressed as inflammation or physical illness. This review does not directly test Malignant Complexes themselves, but it may offer useful supporting literature for ISA’s claim that bottom-up dysregulation can be recruited and maintained through body-first mechanisms rather than cognition alone or organic causes.

 

Reference

Lawrence, S., & Scofield, R. H. (2024). Post traumatic stress disorder associated hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis dysregulation and physical illness. Brain, Behavior, & Immunity - Health, 41, 100849. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.bbih.2024.100849

Leech, Stapleton, and Patching (2024)

 

The Study

This was a scoping review, which means the authors mapped and summarized an emerging research field rather than testing one new group of patients. They screened 226 articles, reviewed 52 in full, and included 43 studies on interoceptive awareness, which means noticing and making sense of signals from inside the body, in relation to PTSD.

 

Across those studies, the clearest repeated finding was that interoceptive awareness was closely linked to emotion regulation, which means how well a person can manage emotional reactions.

 

The review also found a promising link between PTSD and lower or altered body awareness, although the field used many overlapping terms and several different kinds of measures, which makes the evidence harder to compare.

Brain findings were mixed, but some studies pointed to the anterior insula, a brain area tied to inner body sensing, and the medial prefrontal cortex, a brain area involved in self-regulation and self-related processing. This matters because it suggests that body sensing is not a side issue in PTSD, but may be part of how distress is felt, maintained, and possibly treated.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one early part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. It is consistent with the idea that stress-linked dysregulation may move through disturbed body sensing and reduced emotional regulation before cognition.

The study supports ISA’s claim that a hidden trauma-shaped pattern, such as a Malignant Complex, could stay active through interoceptive disruption while full egoic self-awareness lags behind. It mainly supports the narrower point that altered inner-body awareness may be one pathway through which trauma-like dysregulation is carried and maintained.

 

Reference

Leech, K., Stapleton, P., & Patching, A. (2024). A roadmap to understanding interoceptive awareness and post-traumatic stress disorder: A scoping review. Frontiers in Psychiatry, 15, 1355442. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyt.2024.1355442

Leon, A., et al. (1994)

 

The Study

Leon and colleagues looked at a type of immune cell in rats called mast cells. These cells help cause inflammation, which is part of the body’s response to injury or threat. The researchers wanted to see whether these mast cells could make NGF, short for nerve growth factor. NGF is a substance that helps nerve cells grow, stay alive, and recover after damage.

 

First, they found NGF messenger RNA inside the mast cells. Messenger RNA is the cell’s working copy of a genetic instruction. This matters because it suggests the mast cells were not just picking up NGF from outside. They had the internal instructions needed to make it.

 

Second, they found NGF stored inside parts of the mast cells. They used antibody staining, which is a lab method that tags a specific substance so researchers can see where it is inside a cell. This matters because it shows the cells were not only making NGF. They were also keeping a supply of it ready inside themselves.

 

Third, they showed that fluid taken from these mast cells contained NGF that was still biologically active. In other words, the NGF was not dead material or a useless byproduct. It could still do work in the body.

 

Put together, this is important because it shows mast cells can produce, store, and release a signal that affects nerve cells. That means an immune cell involved in inflammation is also able to influence the nervous system directly. This helps show that the immune system and nervous system are not acting as two separate departments. They can communicate with each other in a very concrete way.

 

Why does that matter? Because during injury or inflammation, mast cells may do more than trigger swelling or irritation. They may also help shape how nearby nerves grow, respond, or stay active. That gives researchers a clearer picture of how inflammation can affect pain, healing, and tissue repair through real cell-to-cell signaling.

 

ISA relevance

The paper does not show the emotional wound of childhood adversity. It shows the wiring through which the wound could later speak in the body.

 

The paper is a bridge showing that mast cells, which are immune cells, do not only react to inflammation. They can also make, store, and release NGF, a signal that affects nerve cells. That means the immune system is not just running in parallel with the nervous system. It can directly shape nerve-related activity.

 

The person’s early emotional world may have trained the body’s immune and nerve systems into a certain pattern. Later, that pattern may show up as bodily dysregulation even when the original adversity is no longer consciously available.

 

In this model, the origin is not stored only as a story the person can think through. It may also be stored as a regulatory pattern in the body. The person may not be able to explain it clearly, but the body may still be expressing it through inflammation, nerve activation, pain sensitivity, or stress-linked dysregulation.

 

The organic expression may itself be partly shaped by developmental psychological adversity. So, the body problem is real, but its deeper etiology may not be purely random, mechanical, or isolated from lived experience.

 

From an ISA view, this study may support the hypothesis that psychoimmune pathways can also function as psychoneurological pathways. The paper does not test early emotional adversity directly, but it does show that immune cells can generate signals that affect nerve-related processes. This makes it more plausible that early psychological adversity may become biologically embedded in immune regulation and later expressed through nerve-related dysregulation, so that what appears to be purely organic at the surface may also carry a developmental psychological origin below egoic awareness.

 

Reference

Leon, A., et al. (1994). Nerve growth factor and mast cell regulation. Journal of Experimental Medicine, 179(4), 1317–1326.

Liu and Gershon (2024)

 

The Study

Liu and Gershon argue that the older endophenotype model in psychiatry was too narrow for current genetics and genomics research. An endophenotype is a measurable trait that sits between genes and a disorder, such as a brain signal, hormone pattern, cognitive style, or other body-based feature. The authors propose a broader definition, calling endophenotypes genetically influenced traits linked not only to illness itself, but also to related events like environmental risk, illness progression, treatment response, and resilience, and they replace the old rule of strict state-independence with a model that can include state-dependent traits, meaning traits that show up only at certain times or under certain conditions.

 

They also add “genetic mediation,” meaning evidence that genetic influence helps connect the trait to the disorder, while warning that simple overlap is not enough because one gene can affect multiple traits without one directly causing the other. This matters because the paper is trying to improve how researchers connect genetic findings to actual biological and behavioral processes in psychiatric disorders.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, the paper is consistent with the idea that important parts of later suffering may move through measurable body-and-brain pathways that are genetically influenced, developmentally timed, environmentally shaped, and sometimes only visible in certain states, rather than appearing first as cognition That fits an ISA reading in which a Malignant Complex could help organize stress-linked dysregulation across deeper biological layers while remaining partly outside egoic access, but this study does not directly test Malignant Complexes, dissociation, or any claim that such a pattern “epigenetically hijacks” genes. More cautiously, it supports the narrower point that psychiatric mechanisms may be harder to map because the pathways between genes, environment, intermediate traits, and illness are non-linear, state-dependent, and biologically distributed.

 

Reference

Liu, C., & Gershon, E. S. (2024). Endophenotype 2.0: Updated definitions and criteria for endophenotypes of psychiatric disorders, incorporating new technologies and findings. Translational Psychiatry, 14, Article 502. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41398-024-03195-1

Lyons-Ruth, Chasson, Khoury, and Ahtam (2024)

 

The Study

This review looks at how very early stress in infancy may shape the amygdala, a brain region involved in threat response, during a period of very fast brain development. The authors compare three lines of evidence:

 

  • Rodent studies on low maternal nurturance, meaning too little care and soothing from the mother, and maternal aversion, meaning rejecting or stress-linked maternal behavior

  • Research on threat versus deprivation in older children, meaning the difference between exposure to danger and the absence of needed care or support

  • A small but growing body of human infant research linking caregiving, cortisol, the body’s main stress hormone, and amygdala development, meaning growth in a brain region involved in threat detection and emotional salience

 

They argue that these findings fit best under a developmental salience model, where the most powerful threat cue in infancy is caregiver absence or unavailability. In infancy, the baby’s biggest survival problem is not usually “someone is attacking my body.” It is “the person keeping me alive is not available enough.” Because infants are so dependent, too little care, soothing, or reliable presence may register as the most important kind of danger to the infant stress system. The authors call this a developmental salience model, meaning that the kind of danger the brain treats as most important changes with age. In infancy, the strongest threat may be too little care or caregiver unavailability. Later, the stress system becomes more responsive to clearer external dangers, such as being hurt, attacked, or exposed to violence. This matters because it suggests that early threat may begin before language and before clear autobiographical memory, yet still influence later emotionally dysregulated responses even in situations that are not violent.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this supports one early part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. It is consistent with the idea that stress-linked dysregulation can begin through early brain and stress-system patterning before a person can clearly know or explain what is happening.

 

In ISA language, a later Malignant Complex could be interpreted as growing partly from this kind of early nonverbal threat organization, but this study does not directly test Malignant Complexes or ISA itself. The study supports the claim that later dysregulated responses may begin in early salience and attachment-related threat below clear egoic self-awareness, especially through amygdala development and stress-hormone signaling.

 

For ISA’s broader bottom-up claim, this is useful because it points to a stage of life in which salience, stress, and attachment cues become unconscious prediction errors. In plain language, the body and survival system may register danger where there is none. That fits ISA’s view that later psychological and physical dysregulation from a Malignant Complex may grow from early nonverbal organization.

 

Reference

Lyons-Ruth, K., Chasson, M., Khoury, J., & Ahtam, B. (2024). Reconsidering the nature of threat in infancy: Integrating animal and human studies on neurobiological effects of infant stress. Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews, 163, 105746. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neubiorev.2024.105746

McEwen (1998)

 

The Study

The review explains that stress mediators, meaning the body’s stress chemicals and signals, help us adapt in the short term. But, in the case of complex trauma-like experiences, when those same mediators stay active too long, switch on too often, or fire at the wrong time, they can start causing damage instead of protection. This long-term and inevitable, gradual deterioration or damage is part of what McEwen called allostatic load, meaning the cumulative cost of chronic adaptation that becomes maladaptive.

 

This matters because it shows that the body’s survival system can become part of the illness process when regulation turns chronic and overloaded.

 

The paper’s main point is that the same stress systems that protect us in the short run can also contribute to illness when activation becomes chronic rather than well-contained. This matters because it shows that long-term stress-linked problems may grow out of the body’s own survival machinery, not only out of cognition or belief.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework that stress-linked dysregulation can become embodied through stress-hormone and related body-regulation pathways, even when the person does not clearly understand the deeper pattern organizing it. This is consistent with the idea that a hidden stress-shaped pattern, such as a Malignant Complex, may help keep the system locked into an unhealthy familiar balance while the body continues carrying the load.

 

Reference

McEwen, B. S. (1998). Protective and damaging effects of stress mediators. New England Journal of Medicine, 338(3), 171–179.

McLaughlin, DeCross, Jovanovic, and Tottenham (2019)

 

The Study

McLaughlin and colleagues reviewed how childhood adversity may lead to later psychopathology. They highlighted three main pathways:

 

  • Threat-related social information processing biases, meaning a tendency to read more danger into social cues

  • Stronger emotional reactivity with weaker regulation, meaning emotions rise fast and are harder to settle

  • Disrupted reward processing, meaning normal reward may feel weaker or less satisfying.

 

They also argued that emotional learning, meaning how the brain learns danger, safety, and reward, is a key next step for understanding how adversity becomes later distress.

 

In plain language, the paper suggests that early adversity may tune the system to expect threat, struggle with emotion, and lose some of its normal pull toward healthy reward. That matters because it places the problem close to affect and learning systems, not on cognition, laziness and a lack of conscientiousness.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this supports the front end of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. The review is consistent with the idea that early overwhelming or adversity-linked experience can shape threat reading, emotional reactivity, regulation, and reward before a person can clearly organize the pattern in words. In ISA language, that is compatible with a Malignant Complex as a hidden pattern of pain, fear, and defense. The ego is most likely being organized by the deeper pattern without clearly knowing the bias.

 

Reference

McLaughlin, K. A., DeCross, S. N., Jovanovic, T., & Tottenham, N. (2019). Mechanisms linking childhood adversity with psychopathology: Learning as an intervention target. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 118, 101–109. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.brat.2019.04.008

Michopoulos, V., et al. (2017)

 

The Study

The review looked at PTSD as one member of a bigger group of disorders where fear and anxiety stay too active. For example, PTSD can involve reactivity after overwhelming danger, panic disorder can involve sudden surges of terror and body alarm, generalized anxiety disorder can involve chronic worry and tension, and phobias can involve intense fear of specific situations or objects.

 

It looked at whether these conditions are linked with inflammation, which means immune activity that can raise body stress signals such as cytokines and C-reactive protein.

 

The review found repeated reports of higher inflammatory markers in these disorders, although not every study agreed, and the authors noted that factors like sex, co-occurring problems, trauma exposure, and health behaviors may affect results.

They argued that:

 

  • Stress-system activation: The body’s alarm system has been turned on. This includes stress pathways that prepare you to deal with threat, even if the danger is not happening right now. Example: your body acts as if it must stay ready, tense, and watchful.

  • Higher sympathetic arousal: The fight-or-flight side of the nervous system is running too high. This is the body’s “gas pedal.” Example: fast heart rate, sweating, jumpiness, muscle tension, or feeling keyed up.

  • Lower parasympathetic calming: The body’s calming and recovery system is not slowing things down enough. This is the body’s “brake pedal.” Example: trouble settling after stress, relaxing, digesting, or returning to a steady baseline.

  • Weaker glucocorticoid control: Stress hormones such as cortisol are not shutting down inflammation as well as they normally should. In a healthy system, cortisol helps put limits on immune activation after stress. Example: the stress response happens, but the body does a weaker job of turning the inflammatory part back down.

 

The alarm system turns up, the calming system does not turn it down enough, and the hormone-based shutoff is less effective. That combination may help the body remain in an inflamed state.

 

They also suggested that these inflammatory signals may affect brain regions involved in fear and anxiety, such as:

 

  • Amygdala: A small brain region that helps detect threat and gives emotional importance to what is happening, especially fear and alarm. Example: you hear a sudden slam and your body jumps before you have fully thought it through

  • Hippocampus: Brain region that helps form and organize memories, especially the context of an event, such as where it happened and what it was connected to. Example: it helps you remember that the loud bang was fireworks on New Year’s Eve, not danger right now

  • Insula: A brain region involved in body awareness. It helps you notice and interpret signals from inside the body, such as heartbeat, tightness, pain, nausea, or breath changes, and links those signals with emotion. Example: it helps you feel that your chest is tight when you are anxious

  • Prefrontal cortex: The front part of the brain behind the forehead that helps with planning, attention, self-control, decision-making, and regulating emotional reactions. Example: it helps you pause, think, and remind yourself that you are safe before reacting

 

This matters because it suggests that PTSD can involve real body-based immune dysregulation alongside fear and distress, not only painful memory or conscious narrative.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one important branch of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework that the idea that distress can move through body-based pathways and not only through cognition. This is consistent with an ISA reading in which a hidden trauma-like pattern may be expressed through inflammatory dysregulation, and Psychogenic Transduction is one possible interpretation of that body expression.

 

Reference

Michopoulos, V., Powers, A., Gillespie, C. F., Ressler, K. J., & Jovanovic, T. (2017). Inflammation in fear- and anxiety-based disorders: PTSD, GAD, and beyond. Neuropsychopharmacology, 42(1), 254-270. https://doi.org/10.1038/npp.2016.146

Miller, A. (1991)

 

The Study

Miller examines biographies and creative works to argue that childhood mistreatment can leave deep marks that later appear in either creativity or destructiveness. She discusses figures such as Nietzsche, Picasso, Kollwitz, Keaton, Hitler, and Stalin, looking for links between early injury and later adult expression. Her basic claim is that painful childhood truth often remains hidden, while art, symptoms, or destructive behavior may carry indirect signs of it. The book matters because it argues that later adult expression may grow partly out of early emotional injury that was never fully faced.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework by suggesting that early emotional injury can remain partly outside cognition while still shaping later feeling and behavior. This is consistent with ISA’s idea that a split-off barrier, what ISA would call a Dissociation Field, may help keep painful origins hidden while defensive patterns continue to organize a person’s life. 

 

Reference

Miller, A. (1991b). The untouched key: Tracing childhood trauma in creativity and destructiveness. Anchor.

Miller, A. (1998)

 

The Study

Miller argues that child abuse is often ignored, denied, or misunderstood, and she links that silence partly to Older psychoanalytic ideas that, in Miller’s view, sometimes explained children’s suffering in ways that downplayed or obscured the actual abuse and cruelty done to them. She builds her case through case histories, literature, dreams, and psychiatric writings rather than controlled scientific testing. Her main claim is that early cruelty can stay outside full awareness and later shape emotional life, self-understanding, and destructive behavior. The book matters because it argues that later suffering may grow out of hidden childhood injury.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework by suggesting that early emotional injury can remain partly outside cognition while still shaping later feeling and behavior. This is consistent with ISA’s idea that a split-off barrier, what ISA would call a Dissociation Field, may help keep painful origins hidden while defensive patterns continue to organize a person’s life.

 

Reference

Miller, A. (1998). Thou shalt not be aware: Society’s betrayal of the child. Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Miller, A. (2002a)

 

The Study

Miller examines harsh child-rearing traditions, including what she calls “poisonous pedagogy,” meaning forms of upbringing that use punishment, humiliation, and forced obedience as if cruelty were good for the child. She draws on child-rearing literature, case histories, and reflective arguments to claim that early rejection and cruelty can be pushed out of awareness and later repeated in self-destructive behavior or projected on to others in violent ways.

 

She also argues that intellectual knowledge by itself does not stop the pattern when a person has not consciously faced the pain of their own childhood. The book matters because it places later violence and emotional distortions partly in early emotional injury and in the social approval of harsh upbringing.

 

ISA relevance

This supports one part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework by suggesting that early childhood adversity or trauma-like experiences can remain partly cut off from cognition while still shaping later behavior.

 

Reference

Miller, A. (2002a). For your own good: Hidden cruelty in child-rearing and the roots of violence. Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Miller, A. (2002b)

 

The Study

Miller uses case material and reflective discussion to argue that early-childhood mistreatment, humiliation, and forced obedience can leave long-lasting emotional effects. She says many people become emotionally blind to these early injuries, meaning they do not clearly see, remember, or name what happened and how it shaped them.

 

She further argues that facing painful truth about childhood can reduce present suffering and support a more real adult self. The book matters because it places later distress in early emotional adaptation and denial.

 

ISA relevance

This supports one part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework by suggesting that early childhood adversity or trauma-like experiences can remain partly cut off from cognition while still shaping later behavior.

 

Reference

Miller, A. (2002b). The truth will set you free: Overcoming emotional blindness and finding your true adult self. Basic Books.

Miller, A. (2008a)

 

The Study

Miller argues that child abuse is often ignored, denied, or pushed out of awareness by both families and society, creating a “wall of silence” around painful truth. She uses psychohistorical case material, including Hitler, Stalin, and Ceausescu, to argue that severe childhood cruelty can remain hidden while later shaping destructive behavior.

 

She also argues that healing depends on remembering, recognizing what happened, and putting long-denied emotions into words. The book matters because it places later suffering and maladaptive behavior in early emotional injury and social silence, not only in adult beliefs or choices.

 

ISA relevance

This supports one part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework by suggesting that early childhood adversity or trauma-like experiences can remain partly cut off from cognition while still shaping later behavior. This is consistent with ISA’s idea that a Dissociation Field, or split-off part of the mind, may help keep painful memories outside direct awareness while defensive patterns preserve the silence that helped make the repressed memories.

 

Reference

Miller, A. (2008a). Breaking down the wall of silence: The liberating experience of facing painful truth. Basic Books.

Miller, A. (2008b)

 

The Study

Miller argues that highly sensitive children, who are predisposed to pick up emotional signals, learn very early to adapt to a parent’s needs and to hide or repress, meaning push out of awareness, their own feelings in order to keep love and connection.

She further argues that when a child’s emotions are seen, respected, and “mirrored,” meaning recognized accurately by a caregiver, or what she calls and “enlightened witness,” a stable sense of self can grow. When that does not happen, the child may build a more pleasing but less authentic outer self.

In Miller’s account, this hidden split can later show up in depression, emptiness, or grandiosity, which here means an inflated self-image used to defend against deeper pain. The book matters because it places later suffering in early emotional adaptation and loss of authentic feeling, not only in adult thought patterns.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, early relational pain can shape later distress through hidden emotional patterns that remain partly outside clear egoic self-awareness. This is consistent with ISA’s emphasis that the origin of some suffering may stay split off from direct awareness and later appear through defensive style, emotional emptiness, or maladaptive self-organization.

 

Reference

Miller, A. (2008). The drama of the gifted child: The search for the true self. Basic Books.

Miller, A. H. (2025)

 

The Study

Miller reviewed evidence that some cases of major depression may be driven in an important way by inflammation, which means immune system activity that stays too active or misdirected. The paper explains that inflammatory stimuli can alter neurotransmitters, which are brain chemical messengers, and neurocircuits, which are brain pathways linked to mood and behavior.

 

It also reports that blocking inflammatory cytokines, which are immune signaling proteins, can reduce depressive symptoms in some depressed patients.

Higher inflammatory biomarkers, which are measurable signs of inflammation in the body, were linked to a symptom cluster that especially includes:

 

  • Anhedonia

  • Fatigue

  • Psychomotor slowing

 

These markers appear in only a subgroup of depressed people.

 

This matters because it suggests that major depression is not always the same kind of problem in every person. Some people may have a form of depression that is more strongly linked to inflammation and body-based immune activity than others. That supports a more specific way of understanding depression, instead of treating all cases as one single condition.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this supports one important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework that some depressive suffering may be shaped in a major way by immune-system activity and related brain changes below cognition. This is consistent with the idea that low energy, loss of motivation, and slowing may sometimes be downstream expressions of body-based dysregulation rather than purely a narrative or belief problem.

 

In ISA language, this may also fit the broader possibility of ISA’s Psychogenic Transduction, where unresolved stress-linked material is carried through bodily systems,

 

Reference

Miller, A. H. (2025). Advancing an inflammatory subtype of major depression. American Journal of Psychiatry, 182(6), 516–524. https://doi.org/10.1176/appi.ajp.20250289

Miller and Raison (2016)

 

The Study

Miller and Raison reviewed research on how inflammation, which means immune system activation, may help drive some forms of depression. They argue that the process is systemic, meaning it involves the immune system, the brain, and the stress system working together rather than one isolated cause.

 

The review explains that psychosocial stress can activate inflammatory pathways, and that these signals can then reach the brain and affect neurotransmitters, which are brain chemical messengers, and neurocircuits, which are brain pathways linked to mood, threat, and motivation.

 

It also describes glucocorticoid resistance, which means the body becomes less responsive to key stress hormones that usually help shut inflammation down. This matters because it suggests that depression can grow out of interacting immune, endocrine, and emotional-coded brain-body loops rather than from cognition alone.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this review may support one major downstream part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. It is consistent with the idea that stress-linked dysregulation can move from immune and endocrine systems into mood, energy, motivation, alarm, and withdrawal before a person has a clear self-aware explanation for what is driving the state.

 

In ISA language, this is consistent with Psychogenic Transduction, where unresolved emotional burden may become expressed through body-based dysregulation rather than only through conscious narrative.

 

Reference

Miller, A. H., & Raison, C. L. (2016). The role of inflammation in depression: From evolutionary imperative to modern treatment target. Nature Reviews Immunology, 16(1), 22–34. https://doi.org/10.1038/nri.2015.5

Miller, Chen, and Zhou (2007)

 

The Study

This review looked at what long-term stress does to the HPA axis, which is the body’s main stress-hormone system linking the brain, pituitary gland, and adrenal glands. The authors showed that chronic stress does not always make this system simply run high.

 

They found that the mixed results in earlier research were not just random. A lot of the variation depended on the kind of stressor and on features of the person being studied.

Timing mattered a great deal. Stress-hormone activity tended to be higher near the start of a stressor, then lower as more time passed.

 

Stressors that threatened physical safety, involved trauma, or felt uncontrollable were linked to a high, flat daily cortisol pattern, meaning cortisol stayed elevated and lost some of its normal rise-and-fall rhythm across the day.

 

The pattern also depended on how the person responded. HPA activity rose with subjective distress, but it was lower in people with PTSD. This matters because chronic stress can distort timing, rhythm, and regulation, not just push the stress system in one simple direction.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this study may support one important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework: the endocrine channel. It is consistent with the idea that stress-linked dysregulation can become organized in body-based timing and feedback patterns well below cognition.

 

ISA then makes a further hypothesis that a Malignant Complex, understood as a hidden pattern shaped by early adversity, may help preserve that unhealthy stress rhythm outside full egoic self-awareness.

 

In that hypothesis, the later symptom picture would not have to look the same in every person. The specific presentation could vary according to the original relational and emotional narrative of the childhood adversity, so different early patterns may later produce different endocrine-linked symptoms, even when the broader mechanism is similar.

 

From an ISA view, this helps explain why a Malignant Complex may show up through many different kinds of symptom patterns rather than one fixed disorder. In that interpretive model, some people may later receive idiopathic, co-occurring, syndromic, or undifferentiated diagnoses, meaning labels that describe real suffering but do not fully explain the deeper pattern that may be organizing the symptoms.

 

This does not mean those diagnoses are false. It means ISA is making a hypothesis that the same broad bottom-up stress mechanism may later appear in different forms depending on the original childhood adversity narrative:

 

  • Idiopathic: This means a condition has no clear known cause. In plain language, the symptoms are real, but medicine cannot yet clearly explain why they are happening. From an ISA view, this may matter because a person could have a real body problem, but the deeper organizing stress pattern may remain hidden. ISA is therefore making a hypothesis that some idiopathic presentations may partly reflect a long-standing bottom-up stress pattern shaped by the original childhood adversity narrative, even when the immediate medical cause is still unclear.

  • Co-occurring disorders: This means a person has more than one condition at the same time. For example, someone might have anxiety, sleep problems, digestive trouble, and chronic pain together. In plain language, the person does not have just one isolated problem. They have several problems showing up at once. From an ISA view, this may fit the idea that one deeper Malignant Complex could affect multiple systems at the same time, so the person ends up with several diagnoses that co-occur rather than one single neat label.

  • Syndromes: A syndrome is a group of symptoms that tend to appear together often enough that doctors give the pattern a name. The name describes the cluster, but it does not always explain the underlying cause. In plain language, it is a recognizable package of problems, not always a full explanation. From an ISA view, this may connect to the idea that a Malignant Complex can produce a recurring symptom pattern that looks like a syndrome, while the deeper organizing logic may still be tied to the original relational and emotional meaning of the childhood adversity.

  • Undifferentiated diagnosis: This means the symptoms are clear, but they do not fit neatly into one well-defined disorder. The person is suffering, but the pattern is still too mixed, broad, or unclear to classify precisely. In plain language, the distress is real, but the diagnostic picture is blurry. From an ISA view, this may matter because a Malignant Complex could shape symptoms in a way that crosses several body and mind systems at once, making the final presentation look scattered or hard to sort into one category.

 

ISA is not saying these labels are useless or unreal. ISA is making a hypothesis that the same broad stress-hormone and bottom-up dysregulation process may later take many outward forms. The exact form may depend partly on the original childhood adversity narrative, meaning what kind of fear, pain, conflict, loss, or relational adaptation shaped the person early on.

 

Two people may share a similar broad mechanism, but one may later present with a syndrome, another with several co-occurring disorders, another with an idiopathic condition, and another with an undifferentiated diagnosis.

 

Reference

Miller, G. E., Chen, E., & Zhou, E. S. (2007). If it goes up, must it come down? Chronic stress and the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenocortical axis in humans. Psychological Bulletin, 133(1), 25-45. doi:10.1037/0033-2909.133.1.25.

Miller and Cole (2012)

 

The Study

This was a longitudinal study, which means the researchers followed the same people over time. They studied 147 female adolescents who were healthy at the start but already at higher risk for depression, and they checked them every six months for 2.5 years. They measured depression and two inflammation markers in the blood:

 

  • C-reactive protein (CRP): A blood marker of inflammation. It is made by the liver when the body is under stress, fighting infection, or reacting to injury. Higher CRP does not tell you the exact cause, but it can show that the body is in a more activated inflammatory state

  • Interleukin-6 (IL-6): An immune signaling protein, sometimes called a cytokine. It helps immune cells send messages to each other during stress, infection, or inflammation. Higher IL-6 can be a sign that the immune system is more active and may help drive longer-lasting inflammatory responses

 

These are signs of immune system activity.

 

The study found a kind of two-way link in the adversity group. Depression was not showing up alone. It tended to appear together with higher inflammation. And the inflammation did not just rise during the depressive period. Part of it stayed active afterward, and one marker, IL-6, even helped predict later depression. That suggests early adversity may set up a lasting mind-body pattern, where emotional suffering and immune activation reinforce each other over time.

 

This pattern was not seen in the adolescents without that adversity history. That matters because it shows a real mind-body link over time. This suggests that early hardship may become biologically embedded, meaning the burden may show up in both emotion and body at the same time.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this supports one important part of the broader bottom-up framework of the immune pathway. It is consistent with the idea that early adversity can help organize a hidden body-level burden that later shows up as both depressive suffering and inflammatory activation, well below cognition.

 

In ISA language, a Malignant Complex could be used here as an interpretation for that hidden pattern causing the lack of interoceptive cognition. ISA places emotional signaling before cognitive interpretation and treats Malignant Complexes with Protective Ego Constructs (PEC) as a governance layer shaping dysregulation.

 

Reference

Miller, G. E., & Cole, S. W. (2012). Clustering of depression and inflammation in adolescents previously exposed to childhood adversity. Biological Psychiatry, 72(1), 34–40. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.biopsych.2012.02.034

Nardi, A. E., et al. (2009)

 

The Study

Nardi, Freire, and Zin’s 2009 review on panic disorder and breathing control, which examined how panic is linked to respiratory physiology, meaning the body systems that regulate breathing and carbon dioxide found that:

 

  • Panic disorder is often tied to respiratory symptoms

  • Breathing stimulation commonly occurs during panic attacks

  • Many patients show increased sensitivity to carbon dioxide, or CO2, which is a key gas involved in breathing control.

  • Evidence for subtle breathing and body homeostasis changes, meaning small shifts in the body’s normal self-regulation, even outside full panic attacks.

 

The authors further discussed a fear network, meaning linked brain regions involved in alarm and threat processing, that includes areas such as:

 

  • Amygdala: the brain’s fast alarm center. In this review’s fear-network model, it helps detect threat quickly and can help trigger panic-related fear and body alarm before the person has fully thought through what is happening.

  • Hippocampus: the brain region that helps place fear in context and links it to memory. In this article’s framework, it is part of the fear network that may become oversensitive, so ordinary body sensations or situations may be read as more dangerous than they really are.

  • Medial prefrontal cortex: a front part of the brain involved in evaluation and regulation. In panic models linked to this review, it helps put the brakes on fear, but when that control is weaker, the alarm system can escalate more easily.

  • Hypothalamus: a small brain region that helps turn fear into body reactions such as stress arousal, autonomic change, and emergency bodily readiness. It is not the main focus of the breathing review, but in the broader fear-network model behind this literature, it helps carry alarm into the body.

  • Brainstem regions related to breathing: lower brain centers that help control basic breathing rhythm and respond to gases like CO2. In this article, these regions matter because breathing-related signals and CO2 sensitivity may help trigger panic symptoms from the bottom up.  

 

This matters because it suggests that intense fear can rise from body regulation problems and brain-body alarm circuits before cognition.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one narrow but important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework at the respiratory and autonomic front end. It is consistent with the idea that a Malignant Complex, meaning a hidden trauma-shaped pattern of fear, pain, and defense, may help drive intense fear states through the body before the person clearly understands what is happening. In this reading, disturbed breathing signals, interoceptive alarm, which means the body’s internal danger sensing, and drive-state pressure, which means strong survival-based urges such as air hunger or breath urgency, may carry unresolved emotional distress upward into conscious fear.

 

This does not directly prove the Malignant Complex itself, but the study offers a plausible research-facing bridge for ISA’s claim that such hidden patterns may express themselves first through respiratory instability and related alarm circuitry before clear reflective understanding is in place.

 

Reference

ardi, A. E., Freire, R. C., & Zin, W. A. (2009). Panic disorder and control of breathing. Respiratory Physiology & Neurobiology, 167(1), 133-143. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.resp.2008.07.011

Osimo, Baxter, Lewis, Jones, and Khandaker (2019)

 

The Study

This was a systematic review and meta-analysis, which means the authors combined results from many earlier studies to look for a larger pattern. They reviewed 37 studies with 13,541 people with depression and 155,728 control participants.

 

They focused on C-reactive protein, or CRP, a blood marker that often rises when the immune system is more active, to see how often people with depression showed low-grade inflammation, meaning mild ongoing immune activation.

 

They found that 27% of depressed patients had CRP above 3 mg/L, a common cutoff for low-grade inflammation, and 58% had CRP above 1 mg/L, which suggests a milder elevation. Compared with matched healthy controls, depressed patients were more likely to show these raised CRP levels.

 

This matters because it suggests depression is not one single biological pattern, and that immune activation may be part of the picture for an important subgroup.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one specific part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework of the immune pathway. It is consistent with the idea that some depressed states may involve body-based dysregulation, below conscious thoughts or interpretations.

 

In ISA terms, this is compatible with Psychogenic Transduction as a possible interpretation, meaning unresolved emotional burden may be expressed through bodily disturbance, while the person mainly experiences the later as a dysregulated mood.

 

Reference

Osimo, E. F., Baxter, L. J., Lewis, G., Jones, P. B., & Khandaker, G. M. (2019). Prevalence of low-grade inflammation in depression: A systematic review and meta-analysis of C-reactive protein levels. Psychological Medicine, 49(12), 1958–1970. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0033291719001454

Panksepp (1982)

 

The Study

Panksepp argued that basic emotions arise from built-in neural circuits in the visceral-limbic brain, meaning older brain systems tied to body regulation, motivation, and survival. He proposed that these are command circuits, meaning brain pathways that can launch a whole package of feeling, behavior, and body response together rather than emotion being only a later thought or label.

In the article, he discussed evidence for at least four such broad systems:

 

  • Expectancy, which means anticipatory engagement

  • Rage

  • Fear

  • Panic

 

He also discussed how learning and psychiatric disorders might relate to activity in these circuits. This matters because it places emotion closer to bottom-up brain-body organization and suggests that studying animals can help clarify the basic architecture of human emotion.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, the paper is consistent with the idea that important emotional reactions can begin in deep brain systems that organize feeling, behavior, and physiology before a person has a clear reflective explanation for what is happening. That is relevant to ISA’s larger claim that some stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation may rise from lower-level affective pathways rather than starting mainly in cognition.

 

Reference

Panksepp, J. (1982). Toward a general psychobiological theory of emotions. Behavioral and Brain Sciences, 5(3), 407-422. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0140525X00012759

Panksepp (1982)

 

The Study

Panksepp defended the idea that emotion should be studied by digging down into older brain systems, not only by starting with words, thoughts, or conscious report. Panksepp proposes four emotion-mediating circuits, and a later review of his work identifies those 1982 systems as Expectancy, Rage, Fear, and Panic. The basic idea was that deep brain systems can organize feeling, action, and body response together in ways that help an animal deal with survival needs and threat. This matters because it places emotion closer to bottom-up brain organization and evolutionary history than to reflective thinking alone.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this is consistent with the idea that some stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation may begin in deep affective circuitry before a person has a clear reflective explanation for what is happening, which fits ISA’s broader claim that important reactions may rise through lower brain and drive-state processes rather than starting mainly in cognition.

 

Reference

Panksepp, J. (1982). Archaeology of mind. Behavioral and Brain Sciences, 5(3), 449-467. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0140525X00013054

Panksepp (2000)

 

The Study

Panksepp looked at what was known at the time about laughter, especially its brain basis and its evolutionary history, meaning how far back it may go in animal life. He pointed to evidence that tickling can produce laughter-like vocal sounds in animals, especially rats, and argued that this may help researchers study joy as a basic emotional response of the mammalian brain. He also argued that the positive feelings linked to laughter may help strengthen social bonds, meaning emotional ties between individuals. This matters because the paper places joy and laughter in deep brain and social-emotional systems, not only in language, culture, or reflective thought.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, the paper is consistent with the idea that positive emotional states can arise from deep affective brain systems and social play processes before a person gives them a clear verbal explanation, which fits ISA’s broader claim that important emotional organization may begin below cognition.

 

Reference

Panksepp, J. (2000). The riddle of laughter: Neural and psychoevolutionary underpinnings of joy. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 9(6), 183-186. https://doi.org/10.1111/1467-8721.00090.

Panksepp (2003)

 

The Study

Panksepp summarized recent work on basic affective processes, meaning core emotional processes, in the mammalian brain and argued that affective processes should still be distinguished from cognitive processes, even though they often blend together in everyday life.

 

  1. Felt valence: Affect has an immediate felt quality (qualia). It feels good, bad, painful, pleasant, calming, or distressing. Cognition, by itself, is more about thinking, judging, comparing, or reasoning, and does not necessarily carry that same raw feeling tone.

  2. Subcortical basis: Affect is more closely tied to subcortical systems, meaning older lower brain systems involved in survival, motivation, and bodily urgency. Cognition depends more on higher cortical systems, which are more involved in reflection, planning, and complex thought.

  3. Different development: Affect and cognition do not mature in the same way or on the same timetable. Basic emotional systems appear earlier in life, while more complex cognitive abilities develop later.

  4. Organic vs. informational role: Affect is more tied to the organism’s lived condition, meaning the body’s state, needs, and survival value. Cognition is more about handling information, such as identifying, classifying, comparing, or making sense of things.

  5. Different bodily expression patterns: Affect shows itself strongly through the body, such as changes in facial expression, voice, posture, heart rate, arousal, or action readiness. Cognition can influence the body too, but it is not usually expressed in that direct, built-in emotional way.

  6. Different brain-side patterns: Affect and cognition may rely on the brain’s two hemispheres in somewhat different ways. Here, “left” and “right” means the brain’s left hemisphere and right hemisphere, not left and right sides of the body.

The right hemisphere tends to be more emotionally deep and more connected to negative or realism-linked emotional processing, while the left hemisphere is more cognitively skilled, more language-based, and more positively valenced, meaning more linked to upbeat or positive tone.

He pointed to lesion findings, meaning what happens after brain injury. He noted that when the left hemisphere is damaged, people may show more catastrophic emotional reactions and may be more aware of their losses. By contrast, when the right hemisphere is damaged, some patients may deny how serious their condition is and may confabulate, meaning fill in the gap with a false but sincerely believed explanation.

Emotional life cannot be reduced to cognition alone, because changes in one hemisphere can alter emotional depth, emotional awareness, and self-recognition in ways that are not identical to ordinary cognitive skill.

 

He also argued that progress in this area will require methods different from standard cognitive science and that animal brain research is especially important for revealing the operating principles of these emotional systems. This matters because the paper places emotional feeling closer to bottom-up brain and body organization than to cognition alone.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one broad part of ISA’s bottom-up framework. The paper is consistent with the idea that emotional feeling can begin in older brain systems, come with bodily expression, and operate partly outside clear reflective awareness, while cognition interacts with it later rather than always starting it. That makes it relevant to ISA’s broader claim that some stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation may move upward through bottom-up brain-affect-body pathways before a person can clearly explain what is happening.

 

Reference

Panksepp, J. (2003). At the interface of the affective, behavioral, and cognitive neurosciences: Decoding the emotional feelings of the brain. Brain and Cognition, 52(1), 4-14. https://doi.org/10.1016/S0278-2626(03)00003-4.

Panksepp (2005)

 

The Study

Panksepp argued that the core basis of emotional feeling lies in evolved emotional action systems in mammalian brains, especially older subcortical systems, meaning deeper brain regions below the cortex that help organize survival, motivation, and bodily response.

 

He proposed that primary-process affective consciousness, meaning the most basic built-in level of feeling, is shared across mammals and can be studied through:

 

  • Instinctual emotional behaviors: Automatic emotional actions that come from built-in brain systems, not from deliberate thought. Examples include fear reactions, panic cries, playful chasing, caring behavior, anger displays, or sexual behavior.

  • Affective choice tests such as place preference or avoidance: Experiments that check whether an animal is drawn toward or stays away from something based on how it feels. “Place preference” means the animal returns to a place linked with a good feeling. “Avoidance” means it stays away from a place linked with an unpleasant or distressing feeling.

  • Brain stimulation studies that trigger emotionally loaded responses: Studies where researchers activate certain brain areas and observe the emotional reaction that follows. “Emotionally loaded responses” means reactions that clearly carry emotional force, such as fear, rage, seeking, comfort, or pleasure, rather than just neutral movement.

 

He discussed the seven major emotional systems:

 

  1. RAGE: The built-in anger system. It helps an animal or person fight back, defend territory, or respond when blocked, frustrated, or threatened.

  2. LUST: The built-in sexual drive system. It helps organize sexual interest, attraction, and reproductive behavior.

  3. FEAR: The built-in danger system. It helps the organism detect threat and respond with escape, freezing, caution, or defensive action.

  4. CARE: The built-in nurturing system. It supports bonding, protection, comfort, and looking after offspring or loved ones.

  5. PLAY: The built-in rough-and-tumble and social joy system. It helps with learning, bonding, flexibility, and practicing social behavior in a low-risk way.

  6. SEEKING: The built-in exploratory and motivated pursuit system. It drives curiosity, searching, interest, and goal-directed movement toward something wanted or needed.

  7. PANIC/GRIEF: The built-in separation-distress system. It becomes active during loss, abandonment, or social disconnection and can show up as crying, protest, collapse, or grief-like distress.

 

He argued that raw feelings arise largely from the activity of these systems, while higher cognition can shape and regulate them without necessarily creating them. This matters because it places the foundation of feeling in bottom-up brain-body organization rather than in reflective top-down thought alone, and it treats animal research as relevant for understanding the basic architecture of human feeling and cognition.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, the paper is consistent with the idea that emotional states can begin in deep affective systems and then spread through behavior, body state, and motivation before a person has a clear reflective explanation for what is happening. That makes it relevant to ISA’s broader claim that some stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation may move upward through brain, affective, autonomic, endocrine, and drive-state pathways while the origin remains partly outside cognition.

 

Reference

Panksepp, J. (2005). Affective consciousness: Core emotional feelings in animals and humans. Consciousness and Cognition, 14(1), 30-80. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.concog.2004.10.004

Panksepp (2005)

 

The Study

Panksepp discussed evidence that some animals, including rats, and in other reports dogs and chimpanzees, make laughter-like sounds during playful social activity. He highlighted rat studies showing many 50-kHz chirps, meaning very high-pitched calls, during play and tickling, and argued that these sounds likely reflect positive emotional feeling rather than random noise. His larger point was that human laughter may have deep evolutionary roots in older mammalian play and joy systems, not only in humor or language. This matters because it suggests that joy and laughter can be studied as bottom-up emotional processes linked to social play, bonding, and brain systems below reflective thought.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one limited but useful part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. The paper is consistent with the idea that positive emotional states can arise from deep social-affective systems and show up in behavior and body-linked expression before cognition. That matters for ISA because it suggests bottom-up pathways are not only about fear or distress, but also about joy, play, and bonding.

 

Reference

Panksepp, J. (2005). Beyond a joke: From animal laughter to human joy? Science, 308(5718), 62-63. https://doi.org/10.1126/science.1112066.

Panksepp (2007)

 

The Study

Panksepp examined evidence that rats make many 50-kHz ultrasonic vocalizations, meaning very high-pitched calls humans cannot hear, during play and other positive social contact, and that these calls rise strongly during tickling, especially when the touch targets body areas rats themselves use in play, such as the nape of the neck. He argued that these calls occur mainly in positive, playful situations and may signal readiness for social engagement, somewhat like early human laughter. He also reviewed evidence on human laughter from brain imaging and neuropsychology and proposed that rat 50-kHz calls and human laughter may be homologous at a subcortical level, meaning they may share deep evolutionary roots in older brain systems. This matters because the paper treats laughter and social joy as bottom-up mammalian processes that can be studied through brain, behavior, and social play rather than through humor and language alone.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, the paper is consistent with the idea that positive emotional states can arise from deep social-affective systems and show up first in vocal, behavioral, and bodily expressions before cognition. That matters because it suggests that bottom-up organization is not only about fear or distress, but also about joy, play, and social bonding, all of which may shape later cognition and self-understanding.

 

Reference

Panksepp, J. (2007). Neuroevolutionary sources of laughter and social joy: Modeling primal human laughter in laboratory rats. Behavioural Brain Research, 182(2), 231-244. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.bbr.2007.02.015

Panksepp (2010)

 

The Study

This was a review and theoretical paper, not a new experiment. Panksepp argued that core emotional feelings are organized in older subcortical brain systems, meaning deep brain regions below the cortex, and that these systems are shared across mammals. He described primary-process emotions as basic built-in emotional systems, secondary processes as learned emotional habits, and tertiary processes as higher thought, rumination, and regulation.

 

He also argued that depression may be better understood by looking at specific emotional networks rather than only broad stress models, especially the GRIEF system, which is tied to separation distress and social loss, and the SEEKING system, which supports motivation, interest, and energetic pursuit. In his account, depressive suffering may involve sustained overactivity of GRIEF together with reduced SEEKING, which could help explain both the pain and the slowed, depleted quality of depression.

 

This matters because it places important parts of emotional suffering in bottom-up affective brain systems that shape behavior, motivation, and body-linked feeling before higher thought fully organizes or explains them.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, the paper is consistent with the idea that stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation may move upward from deep affective systems into motivation, mood, bodily feeling, and later thought, rather than starting mainly in reflective cognition. It is especially relevant because it links depression-like suffering to specific bottom-up emotional networks, not just to vague distress, and it even allows an indirect bridge to immune and sickness pathways when Panksepp notes that inflammatory signals may help reduce SEEKING arousal.

 

Reference

Panksepp, J. (2010). Affective neuroscience of the emotional BrainMind: Evolutionary perspectives and implications for understanding depression. Dialogues in Clinical Neuroscience, 12(4), 533-545. https://doi.org/10.31887/DCNS.2010.12.4/jpanksepp

Panksepp (2011)

 

The Study

Panksepp argued that there is strong evidence that mammals share basic positive and negative emotional systems in homologous subcortical brain regions, meaning similar older brain regions across species. He pointed to several lines of evidence: Electrical brain stimulation can trigger unlearned emotional responses, those circuits are similar across vertebrates tested, many primary emotional behaviors remain present even after early removal of the neocortex, animals will approach or avoid stimulation of those regions as if it feels good or bad, and similar stimulation in humans can produce similar reported feelings.

 

He described seven primary emotional systems: RAGE, LUST, FEAR, CARE, PLAY, SEEKING, and  PANIC/GRIEF. This matters because the paper argues that raw emotional feeling begins in deep brain systems and then forms the foundation for later learning, memory, and higher thought.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, the paper is consistent with the idea that emotional life can begin in deep affective systems and then move upward into behavior, bodily state, learning, and later cognition, which fits ISA’s broader claim that some stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation may rise through bottom-up pathways before cognition. It is especially relevant because Panksepp explicitly presents primary emotional processes as foundational and higher thought as a later regulatory layer.

 

Reference

Panksepp, J. (2011). Cross-species affective neuroscience decoding of the primal affective experiences of humans and related animals. PLoS ONE, 6(9), e21236. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0021236

Panksepp (2011)

 

The Study

This was a review and theoretical paper, not a new experiment. Panksepp argued that primal affects, meaning basic built-in feeling states, are brain value systems that automatically signal whether conditions support or threaten survival, and that they help guide emotional learning. He proposed that primary-process emotional feelings arise from ancient caudal and medial subcortical regions, meaning older lower brain regions toward the back and middle of the brain, and that these systems existed before higher reflective awareness.

 

He also argued that animal brain research can help explain human primary feelings because mammals share homologous instinctual neural systems, meaning deeply similar emotional circuits across species. In the paper, he highlighted seven emotional systems, RAGE, LUST, FEAR, CARE, PLAY/JOY, SEEKING, and  PANIC/GRIEF, and argued that studying these systems gives a stronger scientific basis for understanding affective life and some psychiatric disorders. This matters because it places the roots of emotional feeling in bottom-up brain systems rather than in thought alone.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, the paper is consistent with the idea that emotional life can begin in deep affective systems and then shape learning, motivation, and later conscious understanding, which fits ISA’s broader claim that some stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation may rise through bottom-up brain-affect pathways before cognition. It is especially relevant because Panksepp treats primary emotional processes as foundational and higher cognition as later and more elaborated, not as the sole source of feeling.

 

Reference

Panksepp, J. (2011). The basic emotional circuits of mammalian brains: Do animals have affective lives? Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews, 35(9), 1791-1804. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neubiorev.2011.08.003

Panksepp (2016)

 

The Study

This was a review and theoretical paper, not a new experiment. Panksepp argued that the brain activity linked with human emotions is easier to measure than the actual feeling-quality of emotion, so he turned to animal research to study those deeper feeling processes more directly. He said preclinical affective neuroscience, meaning animal-based brain research on emotion, is helping decode emotional feeling by studying the rewarding and punishing effects of deep brain stimulation of subcortical emotional networks, meaning older lower brain systems below the cortex.

 

In the abstract, he named systems such as RAGE, LUST, FEAR, CARE, PLAY/JOY, SEEKING, and  PANIC/GRIEF, and said these networks evoke distinct emotion-action patterns and good or bad effects in animals. He also said this line of work may have therapeutic value, especially for depression, because it may help identify emotional systems that have become imbalanced.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, the paper is consistent with the idea that core emotional states can begin in deep affective systems and show up in behavior, body-linked reward or punishment, and motivational patterns before cognition. That makes it relevant to ISA’s broader claim that some stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation may rise through bottom-up brain-affect and drive-state pathways rather than starting mainly in conscious thought.

 

Reference

Panksepp, J. (2016). The cross-mammalian neurophenomenology of primal emotional affects: From animal feelings to human therapeutics. The Journal of Comparative Neurology, 524(8), 1624-1635. https://doi.org/10.1002/cne.23969

Panksepp, Knutson, and Burgdorf (2002)

 

The Study

This was a review and theoretical paper, not a new experiment. The authors argued that commonly abused drugs may activate or alter emotional brain systems that evolved to signal possible gains or losses in survival value, rather than acting only as simple chemical rewards. They focused especially on two systems: reward seeking, which means motivated wanting and pursuit, and separation distress, which means the painful social distress linked to loss or disconnection.

 

They also proposed a new animal “self-report” model based on 50-kHz ultrasonic vocalizations in rats, meaning very high-pitched calls that tend to rise during positive, approach-related states and can therefore serve as a rough behavioral marker of positive feeling. This matters because the paper treats addiction as rooted partly in basic emotional systems and their bodily-behavioral expression, not only in conscious choice or later rationalization.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, the paper is consistent with the idea that addictive patterns may grow out of deep affective systems such as reward seeking and separation distress, and may show up first in motivation, behavior, and body-linked affective signals before cognition. That makes it relevant to ISA’s broader claim that some stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation may move upward through bottom-up brain-affect and drive-state pathways rather than starting mainly in conscious thought.

 

Reference

Panksepp, J., Knutson, B., & Burgdorf, J. (2002). The role of brain emotional systems in addictions: A neuro-evolutionary perspective and new “self-report” animal model. Addiction, 97(4), 459-469. https://doi.org/10.1046/j.1360-0443.2002.00025.x

Pariante and Lightman (2008)

 

The Study

looks at the HPA axis, which is the body’s main stress-hormone system linking the brain and adrenal glands. The authors say one of the most consistent biological findings in major depression is HPA-axis hyperactivity, meaning the stress system often runs too high. They also describe weaker glucocorticoid feedback, meaning hormones like cortisol do not shut the stress system down as well as they should.

 

The review further argues that this pattern may be part of the risk for depression, not only a result of it, because early life stress and genetic liability may help set up this long-term stress sensitivity.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one clear part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework: the endocrine branch. It is consistent with the idea that a person’s distress can stay organized in body-based stress regulation even when the deeper source is not fully clear in egoic self-awareness.

 

In ISA language, that is compatible with the possibility that a hidden Malignant Complex, maintained through Protective Ego Constructs (PEC), could help preserve an unhealthy familiar stress pattern, while part of the original conflict remains outside of cognition in a Dissociative Field.

 

Reference

Pariante, C. M., & Lightman, S. L. (2008). The HPA axis in major depression: Classical theories and new developments. Trends in Neurosciences, 31(9), 464–468. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tins.2008.06.006

Phillips and Elmadjian (1947)

 

The Study

This was an early observational study, not a modern experiment. Phillips and Elmadjian looked at whether a Rorschach tension score, meaning a score based on the inkblot test that was used at the time as an estimate of emotional tension or affective strain, was related to the diurnal lymphocyte curve, meaning the normal rise and fall of lymphocyte levels across the day.

 

Lymphocytes are a type of white blood cell involved in immune defense. The paper reported a relationship between two aspects of that daily lymphocyte rhythm and the Rorschach-based tension score in psychotic subjects, and one combined lymphocyte-rhythm measure correlated 0.67 with the tension score.

 

The study asked whether stronger inner tension might be linked to measurable changes in the daily rhythm of immune-related cells, and the authors reported that such a link was present in their sample.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this supports one narrow but important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework, the idea that emotional strain may be reflected in body regulation outside of cognition. This is consistent with a bottom-up reading in which affective state is not only “in the mind” but may show up in immune-linked physiology. It offers an early research-facing sign that emotional tension and bodily regulation may be linked in a way that fits a broader biopsychosocial and bottom-up direction.

 

Reference

Phillips, L., & Elmadjian, F. (1947). A Rorschach tension score and the diurnal lymphocyte curve in psychotic subjects. Psychosomatic Medicine, 9(6), 364-371. https://doi.org/10.1097/00006842-194711000-00002

Porges (2011)

 

The Study

Porges argued that the body’s automatic regulation state, meaning the nervous system’s background condition of safety, alarm, or shutdown, helps shape how a person acts before the person has clearly thought about it. In this view, cognition does not begin from a neutral place. It begins already biased by the body’s state. A person may believe they are “just reacting,” but the nervous system may already be steering tone of voice, facial expression, closeness, withdrawal, urgency, or collapse outside clear reflective awareness:

 

  • Emotion: Emotion is how a person feels inside, such as RAGE, LUST, FEAR, CARE, PLAY, SEEKING, ANXIETY/DESPAIR. These feelings are not always first created by deliberate thought. They are often strongly shaped by the body’s regulation state.

If the nervous system is in a safer state, the person is more likely to feel settled, open, curious, or warm. If the system is in alarm, the person is more likely to feel anxious, irritable, watchful, or overwhelmed. If the system is in shutdown, the person may feel flat, frozen, detached, or unable to respond. So the body is already setting the emotional tone before the person has fully explained it to themselves.

  • Attachment: Attachment means how a person bonds, trusts, seeks closeness, and responds to other people. In Porges’s view, this is not guided by ideas alone. It is shaped by whether the body senses enough safety for connection. When the nervous system is regulated, the person is more able to trust, receive care, stay present, and tolerate closeness.

When the system shifts into danger mode, the person may pull away, cling, mistrust, become controlling, or expect rejection even if they do not consciously decide to do that. Attachment behavior can be driven by body-state long before the person has a clear thought like “I do not feel safe with this person.”

  • Communication: Communication means not only words, but also tone of voice, facial expression, rhythm, eye contact, and the ability to listen and respond. Porges argued that these social behaviors are deeply shaped by autonomic state.

If the body is in a safe and regulated state, speech tends to sound more flexible, warm, and connected, and the person is more able to listen, respond, and stay engaged.

If the body is activated for defense, speech may become sharp, fast, tense, flat, quiet, or confused. A person may think they are simply “having a conversation,” while their nervous system is already pushing them toward guardedness, aggression, or withdrawal without clear cognitive awareness of why.

  • Defense: Defense means how the organism protects itself when danger is sensed. This includes fight, flight, freeze, collapse, or social withdrawal. Porges’s core claim is that these are not usually chosen through slow reasoning. They are body-led response patterns.

When the nervous system detects threat, it can move the person into urgency, avoidance, attack, freezing, or shutdown automatically. The person may later invent a reason for the reaction, but the defensive shift often started first at the level of body regulation. Behavior that looks irrational, extreme, or confusing may partly reflect an automatic protective state that took hold before reflective thought caught up.

 

The basic idea is that these body states help organize how a person feels, relates, and responds, so body-state comes first and later emotion and behavior are shaped by it. This matters because it offers one integrated way to connect physiology, relationships, and emotional response instead of treating them as separate problems.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework, especially the autonomic front end. It is consistent with the idea that a Malignant Complex, understood in ISA as a hidden trauma-like pattern of pain, fear, and defense, may hijack the autonomic nervous system in order to keep the person organized around the original danger conditions.

 

In that interpretation, the body is pushed to keep signaling alarm, shutdown, withdrawal, or defensive readiness, and this can help keep egoic self-awareness partly dissociated from what is actually driving the reaction.

 

That matters in ISA because it offers a plausible way to think about how old Prediction Errors, meaning outdated danger expectations shaped by earlier trauma-like conditions, may be kept in place through body-state before the person clearly knows what is happening.

 

Note: ISA acknowledges a major caution. Recent critique literature has argued that key parts of polyvagal theory are too simple or not well supported as anatomy and physiology, especially claims about how different vagal centers uniquely map onto complex social and defensive states.

 

A 2026 expert commentary reported that 39 invited specialists disputed core polyvagal claims, and earlier reviews argued that its basic premises were untenable or highly implausible. At the same time, newer vagus reviews still support the broader idea that the vagus is important for brain-body regulation, while stressing that it is bidirectional, meaning afferent and efferent, not a simple one-way calming brake.

 

From an ISA view, Porges remains useful as a strong autonomic and relational heuristic, but not as a complete or settled explanation of the vagus nerve.

 

Reference

Porges, S. W. (2011). The Polyvagal Theory: Neurophysiological foundations of emotions, attachment, communication, and self-regulation. W. W. Norton.

Rauch, S. L., et al. (2006)

 

The Study

Rauch and colleagues reviewed brain scan studies on post-traumatic stress disorder to see whether PTSD looks like a problem in a specific fear system in the brain, rather than just a mixed group of symptoms. In other words, they asked whether the findings point to a recognizable brain pattern behind the condition:

 

  • Amygdala: They proposed that one key part of this pattern is the amygdala. The amygdala is a brain region that quickly detects possible danger and helps trigger fear responses. In PTSD, they argued that this system often reacts too strongly, so the brain may treat cues as threatening even when the danger is not actually present.

  • Frontal cortical regions: They also pointed to frontal cortical regions, which are parts of the brain involved in regulation and control. These regions help slow fear down, make sense of what is happening, and update the system when a cue is no longer dangerous. That updating process is sometimes called extinction, which means learning that something linked to past danger is now safe. Rauch and colleagues proposed that in PTSD these frontal regions may not regulate fear effectively, so the fear response is harder to turn off.

 

Put simply, their model suggests that the brain’s alarm system may be too strong, while the brain systems that would normally calm the alarm and relearn safety may be too weak or less effective.

 

They also proposed weaker hippocampal function:

 

  • Hippocampus: The hippocampus is a brain region that helps you place experience in context. In simple terms, it helps the brain answer questions like: Where am I? What is happening now? Is this situation actually the same as the earlier danger, or does it only remind me of it?

The hippocampus also helps with explicit memory, which means memory you can consciously recall and describe in words, such as what happened, when it happened, and how it differs from the present moment.

 

If this system is not working well, the brain may have more trouble separating past danger from present safety. A harmless place, sound, face, or situation may feel dangerous because the brain is not clearly tagging it as different from the original threat. As a result, safe situations can be misread as unsafe.

 

The brain scan findings were starting to fit the proposed fear-circuit model, but the evidence was still somewhat indirect because researchers had not yet tested PTSD patients often enough with brain-scan tasks that directly measured fear learning and fear reduction.

 

This matters because it suggests that trauma-related suffering is not only a matter of fearful thoughts or poor reasoning. It may arise from brain circuits involved in threat detection and fear response that can activate automatically, before the person has time to think clearly or consciously assess whether danger is actually present.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this supports one important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework of the brain-threat pathway. It is consistent with the idea that stress-linked dysregulation can begin in fast threat and context circuits before the person has clear reflective awareness of what is driving the reaction, which fits ISA’s broader picture of a hidden fear-shaped pattern, such as a Malignant Complex, operating beneath later explanation. This is also consistent with the idea that a Protective Ego Construct may react from an old danger map rather than from the present situation.

 

Reference

Rauch, S. L., Shin, L. M., & Phelps, E. A. (2006). Neurocircuitry models of posttraumatic stress disorder and extinction: Human neuroimaging research-past, present, and future. Biological Psychiatry, 60(4), 376-382. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.biopsych.2006.06.004

Ruge, Ehlers, Kastrinogiannis, Klingelhöfer-Jens, Koppold, Abend, and Lonsdorf (2024)

 

The Study

Ruge and colleagues reviewed 81 studies on Adverse Childhood Experiences, or ACEs, and asked whether early adversity is linked to changes in associative learning, meaning the basic way the brain learns which cues or triggers predict danger or reward. They found a converging pattern across the literature that people with ACE histories often showed:

 

  • Blunted threat learning, meaning weaker learning from danger cues

  • Poorer threat-safety discrimination, meaning more difficulty telling danger cues from safe ones.

  • Attenuated reward learning, meaning lower accuracy and a slower learning rate, or slower updating from reward feedback.

 

The authors argue that these altered learning processes may be one route by which early adversity becomes biologically embedded over time.

 

This matters because it suggests that part of later suffering may begin in implicit memory, meaning deep emotional learning that works automatically before clear thinking is involved. These unconscious systems learn basic patterns such as “this is dangerous,” “this is safe,” or “this is not worth pursuing.” That learning can remain active even when the person cannot clearly explain it.

 

The problem may not begin in cognition. It may begin lower down in stored emotional learning that shapes reactions without words. A person may first suffer through automatic fear, confusion, or reduced motivation, and only later try to make sense of it through cognition.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this supports an early part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework. It is consistent with the idea that later dysregulation may begin in fast emotional learning systems below cognition, where danger, safety, and reward are being sorted before reflective explanation catches up.

 

In ISA language, this is consistent with the possibility that a hidden stress-shaped pattern, such as a Malignant Complex, could be built on altered threat and reward learning and later shape defensive habits in the ego without the person fully knowing the source.

 

Reference

Ruge, J., Ehlers, M. R., Kastrinogiannis, A., Klingelhöfer-Jens, M., Koppold, A., Abend, R., & Lonsdorf, T. B. (2024). How adverse childhood experiences get under the skin: A systematic review, integration and methodological discussion on threat and reward learning mechanisms. eLife, 13, e92700. https://doi.org/10.7554/eLife.92700

Sacu, et al. (2024)

 

The Study

Sacu and colleagues studied whether early-life adversity is linked to long-term changes in how the adult brain learns what is worth pursuing. They used data from a longitudinal birth cohort of 156 adults, and at age 33 the participants completed an fMRI task plus computational measures of reward learning, including expected value, which means the brain’s running estimate of how worthwhile a goal is likely to be. Expected value signaling means the brain’s estimate of how worthwhile or rewarding a choice, cue, or action is likely to be based on past learning.  

 

The main finding was that the adversity factor most shaped by lower maternal stimulation, meaning the mother was rated as making fewer vocal, facial, or movement-based attempts to engage the infant’s attention during early interaction, was linked to lower expected value signaling in the:

 

  • Right putamen: A brain area involved in learning from actions and outcomes. In this study, you can think of it as part of the system that helps the brain learn, “When I do this, is it worth it?”

  • Right nucleus accumbens: A key reward and motivation area. It helps generate the feeling that something is appealing, promising, or worth pursuing. In plain language, it is part of the brain’s “go after this” system.

  • Anterior cingulate cortex: A brain region that helps track what matters, notice conflict or mismatch, and guide decisions. In this study, it helps the brain weigh value and adjust behavior, such as whether to keep pursuing something or pull back.

 

These brain regions showed a weaker signal for ‘this is likely worth pursuing.’ The paper treats these as reward-related brain regions. Expected value signaling in the right nucleus accumbens also statistically linked that adversity factor to psychopathology and predicted higher withdrawn symptoms during the COVID-19 period.

 

The study suggests that some early adversity may bias how the brain estimates what is valuable or worth pursuing, so later cognition may be shaped by that early shift rather than starting from a neutral view.

 

That matters because weaker value learning can affect motivation, decision making, and vulnerability to later distress. The paper does not show that all adversity works this way, and it does not prove a full chain from childhood experience to later illness, but it does show one plausible reward-learning pathway.

 

ISA relevance

ISA’s own bottom-up orientation says emotional signaling comes before cognitive interpretation, and its Malignant Complex concept describes a hidden adversity-shaped pattern of pain, fear, and defense that can organize behavior outside of egoic self-awareness. Adversity can bias motivational and value-learning systems in ways that later show up as withdrawal, reduced pursuit, or weakened engagement before the person has a clear story about why.

 

The person may simply feel less pull toward healthy reward, less motivation, or more withdrawal, while the deeper organizing pattern remains outside clear awareness.

 

Reference

Sacu, S., et al. (2024). Early-life adversities are associated with lower expected value signaling in the adult brain. Biological Psychiatry, 96(12), 948–958. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.biopsych.2024.04.005

Santamaría-García, Migeot, Medel, Hazelton, Teckentrup, Romero-Ortuno, Piguet, Lawor, Northoff, and Ibáñez (2025)

 

The Study

Santamaría-García and colleagues reviewed research on allostasis and interoception. Allostasis means the body does not only react after something happens. It also tries to predict what will be needed next, such as more energy, a faster heart rate, changes in stress hormones, or shifts in attention.

 

Interoception means the brain’s ongoing sensing of signals from inside the body, such as heartbeat, breathing, pain, hunger, stomach tension, and internal discomfort. The review examines how these two systems work together to help a person anticipate demands, monitor body state, and adjust before strain becomes too great.

They looked across psychiatric and neurological conditions and argued that these systems help the brain and body predict upcoming needs, monitor internal strain, and coordinate adjustment across many body systems at once. The review suggests that dysregulation can arise when this predictive system misjudges the body’s real needs. In plain language, the body may prepare too strongly, too weakly, or at the wrong moment. Over time, that repeated mismatch can create cumulative strain across stress, immune, autonomic, metabolic, and brain-body regulatory systems.

 

The review also points to linked pathways involving the brain, heart, breathing, gut-microbiota system, inflammation, immune activity, stress hormones, and epigenetic processes. This matters because it suggests that some disorders may involve whole-system regulatory strain rather than one isolated symptom or one isolated organ problem. The authors also say the field is still early and that much of the evidence is still correlational rather than strongly causal.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this study may support the broader bottom-up claim that body and survival systems can shift before cognition. The review describes a network that links limbic and interoceptive brain regions with heart, breathing, gut, inflammatory, immune, and stress-hormone systems, and it frames these as anticipatory regulation systems rather than as mere after-effects of thought. That is consistent with ISA’s idea that cognition may be downstream here, meaning the body-state shift happens first and the person’s later thoughts may only be an interpretation of that shift. This is indirect support for ISA, not direct proof of ISA’s own terms.

 

From an ISA view, the study is consistent with ISA’s claim that a person may show body-wide overload while the ego is mainly trying to manage symptoms at the surface.

From an ISA view, the paper also fits Psychogenic Transduction, meaning unresolved emotional material may be converted into body symptoms through stress, autonomic, endocrine, immune, and brain-body pathways. The study’s emphasis on whole-body cascades, inflammatory and immune processes, stress-hormone systems, and brain-body prediction makes that link plausible inside ISA. But again, this is an interpretive bridge, not something the review proves in ISA’s own language.

 

On ISA’s broader bottom-up pathway, this study partly supports brain and threat processing, because it includes the amygdala, insula, cingulate regions, and anticipatory response to demands and threats. It supports immune signaling, endocrine or stress-hormone regulation, autonomic regulation, and interoception, because those are explicit parts of the review’s model.

 

Overall, this paper is best treated as a strong systems-level parallel.

 

Reference

Santamaría-García, H., Migeot, J., Medel, V., Hazelton, J. L., Teckentrup, V., Romero-Ortuno, R., Piguet, O., Lawor, B., Northoff, G., & Ibáñez, A. (2025). Allostatic interoceptive overload across psychiatric and neurological conditions. Biological Psychiatry, 97(1), 28–40. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.biopsych.2024.06.024

Savitz et al. (2004)

 

The Study

This paper is a case report about one woman who had both bipolar I disorder and dissociative identity disorder, or DID. The authors wanted to see whether there might be some overlap between mood switching in bipolar disorder and identity switching in DID.

 

In this case, the patient said that when she became manic or hypomanic, she shifted from being right-handed to left-handed, and her relatives confirmed this pattern.

 

During testing while she was in a stable mood, she showed strong right-handedness overall, no clear focal neuropsychological syndrome, and no sign that the handedness change could be explained by a simpler brain injury pattern or seizure-like disorder.

 

The paper also reports that the alternate personality appeared during manic states and that the DID diagnosis was supported by clinical interview and a reported history of prolonged sexual abuse. This matters because the case suggests that shifts in mood, identity-state, and body-based behavior can occur together, but it remains a single unusual case, so it cannot by itself show how common or general this pattern is.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this study gives limited but interesting indirect support to the broader bottom-up idea that major shifts in self-state may involve more than cognitive choice or surface beliefs.

 

The strongest relevance is that identity-state change in this case was linked not only to mood but also to a bodily-motor change, handedness, which is consistent with the idea that dysregulation can show up through deeper brain and affective organization before clear egoic self-awareness catches up. In ISA terms, this is consistent with a Dissociative Field, where access to experience may become partitioned, and with a Malignant Complex model in which a hidden pain-defense pattern can organize different self-states.

 

Reference

Savitz, J. B., Solms, M., Pietersen, E., Ramesar, R., & Flor-Henry, P. (2004). Dissociative identity disorder associated with mania and change in handedness. Cognitive and Behavioral Neurology, 17(4), 233-237.

Shin and Liberzon (2010)

 

The Study

Shin and Liberzon reviewed fear studies in animals, emotion studies in healthy people, and brain-imaging studies of anxiety disorders to identify the main brain circuits involved in threat and fear.

 

They found that the amygdala, a brain region that helps detect danger, often became more active when people were exposed to cues linked to their disorder. In post-traumatic stress disorder, those cues can include reminders of the earlier frightening event. In social phobia and specific phobia, they can include situations or objects the person strongly fears. In simple terms, the brain’s alarm system often reacted more strongly to signals that matched the person’s fear pattern.

 

They also noted that the insular cortex, a region linked to body alarm and internal feeling states, appears overactive in many anxiety disorders, while post-traumatic stress disorder shows lower activity in the rostral anterior cingulate cortex and nearby ventral medial prefrontal cortex, frontal regions that help regulate fear and update safety.

 

In simple terms, the review suggests that fear disorders involve a repeated bias toward threat, along with weaker regulation of that threat response. This matters because it places part of anxiety and stress disorders in stable brain-body circuitry, not only in passing thoughts or lack of willpower.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this study strongly supports the brain-and-threat-processing part of the Malignant Complex Bottom-Up Pathway. A Malignant Complex, in ISA, is a hidden psychogenic pattern shaped by overwhelming or trauma-like experience that organizes pain, fear, and defense into a repeated survival style. This review does not directly prove that ISA construct, but it is consistent with ISA’s claim that recurring fear patterns can become biologically organized through lasting threat-circuit bias. In that sense, cognition is downstream here because the organism shifts into danger-readiness first before cognition.

 

A Dissociation Field, in ISA, is a split-off mental zone or protective barrier that keeps overwhelming material outside full awareness. This study does not directly measure dissociation, so it does not prove a Dissociation Field, but it is consistent with the idea that a person can be governed by threat bias without clearly knowing why.

This paper is best treated as strong systems-level support for the early part of the bottom-up pathway, not the whole pathway.

 

Reference

Shin, L. M., & Liberzon, I. (2010). The neurocircuitry of fear, stress, and anxiety disorders. Neuropsychopharmacology, 35(1), 169–191.

Smith, Xu, and Pollak (2025)

 

The Study

Smith, Xu, and Pollak reviewed research on how childhood adversity may affect value-based decision making, which means how people learn what seems rewarding or risky and then use that information to choose what to do. Their review suggests the clearest pattern is not a broad breakdown in learning itself, but a shift in how learned value is used later, people with more adversity tend to give more weight to avoiding risk and less weight to rewards.

 

The review does not strongly show that adversity breaks the basic ability to learn. A person may still learn what leads to reward and what leads to risk. But later, when making choices, the person may lean harder toward safety and pull back from reward. In simple terms, the system may still learn, but it may use that learning in a more cautious and less reward-seeking way. That matters because it offers one possible route by which early adversity can shape later motivation, choice, and behavior below cognition.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this study may support one important part of the bottom-up model. It is consistent with the idea that a Malignant Complex, meaning a trauma-shaped psychogenic complex, or hidden pattern of pain, fear, and defense, may bias action before a person can fully explain what is happening.

In ISA terms, that pattern can look like a Dissociation Field, meaning a split-off mental zone or protective barrier that keeps overwhelming material outside full awareness while behavior still shifts. In plain language, the person may only notice, “I keep choosing safety over reward,” without seeing the deeper fear-based organizing pattern underneath.

 

It partly supports brain and threat processing because stronger risk avoidance and weaker reward value are consistent with altered threat weighting and motivational processing

 

Reference

Smith, K. E., Xu, Y. L., & Pollak, S. D. (2025). How childhood adversity affects components of decision making. Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews, 169, 106027. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neubiorev.2025.106027

Solms (1997)

 

The Study

This was a clinico-anatomical study, meaning Solms looked at people with specific brain injuries and compared the damaged brain areas with changes in dreaming. He found that dreaming could stop after certain forebrain injuries, which means injuries in higher brain regions involved in motivation, emotion, and mental imagery.

 

He also argued that dreaming is not the same thing as REM sleep, the stage of sleep with rapid eye movements, because some people kept REM sleep but lost dreaming, while others could still dream even when normal REM patterns were disrupted.

 

In plain language, the book suggests that dreaming depends more on brain systems that generate desire, interest, and inner imagery than on REM sleep alone. The process seems to work like this:

 

  • One set of brain systems helps create inner motivation and emotional pressure

  • Another helps build the dream scene or image.

 

This mattered because it challenged the older idea that dreams are simply a byproduct of REM sleep and moved dream research toward motivation, affect, and forebrain function.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up model, that the idea that emotionally charged imagery and motivation can arise from deeper brain systems before they are fully organized by reflective thought. This is consistent with ISA’s claim that the Instinctual Consciousness (IC) is upstream of egoic cognition and that symbolic material like dreams may carry bottom-up signals rather than being just a top-down story layered on afterward. This does give indirect support to ISA’s broader argument that inner imagery, affect, and drive can begin below clear egoic self-awareness and later enter conscious experience in symbolic form.

 

Reference

Solms, M. (1997). The neuropsychology of dreams: A clinico-anatomical study. Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.

Solms (2015)

 

The Study

Solms is responding to a larger target article about memory reconsolidation in psychotherapy. Memory reconsolidation means that when an old memory is reactivated, it can briefly become open to change before it is stored again. He argues that learning is not mainly for storing records of the past, but for building predictions about how to meet needs in the world. He says successful predictions stay implicit, which means they run in the background without entering awareness, while prediction errors, meaning surprises or mismatches, are what enter self-aware cognition. In that model, reconsolidation matters because once an old memory pattern is reactivated, it may be updated so future predictions work better, which is why Solms links to an updated psychotherapy approach to changing prediction rather than cognitively reframing.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, understood here as a research-informed, bottom-up framework that places emotional signaling before cognitive interpretation, this paper is relevant because it supports one key link in the broader chain, that much of what guides a person may stay outside clear egoic self-awareness until a mismatch forces it into awareness.

 

That is consistent with ISA’s view that old, partly hidden patterns can keep shaping reactions before the person can clearly name them, and that real change may require updating those deeper patterns rather than only thinking about them. It also fits ISA’s understanding of reconsolidation, which treats reactivated emotional memory as open to revision under the right conditions.

 

Reference

Solms, M. (2015). Reconsolidation: Turning consciousness into memory. Behavioral and Brain Sciences, 38, e24. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0140525X14000296

Solms (2021)

 

The Study

Solms argues that the most basic form of consciousness is raw feeling, not thought, language, or vision, and that this basic feeling state depends more on ancient brainstem systems than on the cerebral cortex alone.

 

He points to evidence such as preserved signs of sentience in children born with little or no cortex, along with the fact that very small lesions in the upper brainstem, the reptile part of the brain, can wipe out consciousness, to argue that cognitive intelligence and consciousness as instinctual are not the same thing.

 

He also argues that feelings are the lived side of homeostasis, which means the body’s way of tracking whether it is moving toward or away from what it needs to stay alive, so pleasure and unpleasure help guide action and choice. This matters because it shifts the center of consciousness research toward bottom-up affect, need, motivation, and embodied regulation, while treating top-down higher thinking as something built on top of that deeper layer rather than the other way around.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this is strong indirect support for the broader bottom-up claim, because Solms places feeling, need, and motivation upstream of reflective thought and treats conscious life as growing out of embodied regulatory processes. This is consistent with ISA’s view that important drivers of distress, action, and meaning may begin below clear self-awareness and only later show up in thought, behavior, or symbolic material. This does not directly prove Malignant Complexes, the Instinctual Consciousness (IC), Protective Ego Constructs, or any ISA method itself.

 

It mainly supports the upstream part of the ISA chain that affective and drive-based regulation appears structurally primary, while higher cognition seems to ride on top of it. This also aligns with the registered ISA support note that uses Solms to support the claim that consciousness is rooted in affective need and drive rather than detached cortical representation.

 

Reference

Solms, M. (2021). The hidden spring: A journey to the source of consciousness. W. W. Norton & Company.

Solms (2026)

 

The Study

Solms argues that modern neuroscience supports parts of Freud’s core picture, especially the idea that hidden emotional conflicts and buried memories can shape suffering outside clear self-awareness. He uses case histories and brain science to argue that psychoanalytic therapy, meaning a long-form talking treatment focused on deeper emotional causes, works by helping people face subjective causes rather than only reducing symptoms on the surface.

 

He also argues that Freud got some important things wrong, so the book tries to keep what still fits current science while dropping older claims that do not.

This matters because the book is a neuroscience-based defense of feeling, subjectivity, and deep emotional therapy.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this book is relevant because it supports the broad claim that painful patterns may be driven by affect, memory, and unconscious conflict before a person can clearly explain them cognitively. That is consistent with ISA’s bottom-up emphasis on the Instinctual Consciousness (IC) as a deeper affective layer shaping later self-awareness, rather than treating reflective thought as the main starting point. It may also support ISA’s view that lasting change usually requires contact with deeper emotional causes, not only surface symptom management.

 

Reference

Solms, M. (2026). The only cure: Freud and the neuroscience of mental healing. Weidenfeld & Nicolson.

Solms and Panksepp (2012)

 

The Study

Solms and Panksepp argue that basic consciousness begins in older deep-brain systems, especially affective and arousal systems in and around the brainstem, not in the cortex alone.

 

They point to evidence that stimulating deep emotional systems can produce felt rewarding or punishing states, and that damage to upper brainstem regions can disrupt consciousness more decisively than loss of large cortical areas.

 

In their model, raw feeling states tied to survival and inner-body needs come first, and learning, memory, perception, and reflective thought are built on top of that foundation.

 

They also argue that the cortex helps stabilize and refine mental content, shifting feeling-based states into more stable perceptions, ideas, and self-reflection. This matters because it reverses the usual cognition-first story and places affective life upstream of much of what people later think and report about themselves.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one important part of ISA’s broader bottom-up framework, that emotionally charged, drive-based feeling states may shape conscious life before higher self-reflection and clear egoic narration catch up.

 

This is consistent with using the Instinctual Consciousness (IC) as a way of naming upstream affective organization, while treating egoic cognition as a later organizing layer rather than the starting point. Its relevance to ISA is strongest at the level of affect-first consciousness and only indirect for the larger ISA chain.

 

Reference

Solms, M., & Panksepp, J. (2012). The “id” knows more than the “ego” admits: Neuropsychoanalytic and primal consciousness perspectives on the interface between affective and cognitive neuroscience. Brain Sciences, 2(2), 147-175. doi:10.3390/brainsci2020147.

Solomon and Moos (1964)

 

The Study

Solomon and Moos tried to bring together several lines of evidence that were emerging at the time:

 

  • Stress research

  • Emotion research

  • Immunology

They found that immune problems could appear alongside both physical illness and mental illness.

 

They argued that emotions and stress might be linked to immune dysfunction, especially autoimmune problems, and that this link could matter for disease in both body and mind. In simple terms, the paper suggests that strong emotional strain may affect body regulation, and that this body shift may then matter for immune function. The authors were very cautious about this and said the paper was speculative and meant to raise research questions rather than settle them.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one early and broad part of ISA’s bottom-up framework. It is consistent with the idea that stress-linked or trauma-like dysregulation may move through emotional and body-based pathways into immune disturbance, rather than existing only at the level of cognition. This is also broadly consistent with what ISA would call Psychogenic Transduction, meaning unresolved emotional burden showing up through body-based dysregulation.

 

The importance of the 1947 papers is that they show how early some researchers were in trying to connect mental and emotional state with measurable changes in the body. Freeman and Elmadjian looked at blood sugar, which means the amount of glucose circulating in the bloodstream, and lymphocyte levels, which means the amount of a type of white blood cell involved in immune defense, after people were given glucose by mouth. They compared people considered psychiatrically normal at the time with psychotic patients, meaning patients who showed severe disturbances in perception, thinking, or contact with reality. They reported that the lymphopenic response, meaning the usual drop in circulating lymphocytes after the glucose load, was weaker in the psychotic group (Freeman & Elmadjian, 1947).

 

Later that same year, Phillips and Elmadjian reported a relationship between a Rorschach-derived tension score and the diurnal lymphocyte curve in psychotic subjects. A Rorschach-derived tension score means a score based on responses to the inkblot test that was used at the time as an estimate of inner tension or stress. The diurnal lymphocyte curve means the normal rise and fall of lymphocyte levels across the day. In plain language, they were asking whether a person’s psychological tension might be linked to changes in the daily rhythm of immune-related cells. These were early and limited studies, not strong modern proof of cause and effect, but they show that researchers were already exploring whether emotion, stress, and mental state might be connected to immune-linked body regulation long before psychoneuroimmunology was formally named (Phillips & Elmadjian, 1947).

 

Research wqs already seeing, as early as 1947, that serious disturbances in mental life might also involve altered whole-body regulation. That was an early crack in the older model that treated the mind and body as mostly separate.

 

Seen in that history, Solomon and Moos in 1964 did not start from nothing. They tried to pull together emerging work on stress psychophysiology, emotional factors in physical disease, immunological dysfunction, and mental illness into one speculative framework, and they explicitly said the effort would raise more questions than answers.

It is more accurate to call this an early precursor to the biopsychosocial model (Engel, 1977) and to psychoneuroimmunology, not the finished form of either one, an earlier step that points in the same direction before the field had been formally named or fully built.

 

Engel’s biopsychosocial model came later, in 1977, as an explicit argument that health and disease must be understood through interacting biological, psychological, and social factors, not through a body-only medical model (Engel, 1977).

 

The same is true for psychoneuroimmunology. That word refers to the study of how psychological processes, the nervous system, and the immune system affect each other. Robert Ader later wrote that the term itself was first used in 1980, and other historical summaries place its wider formal use in 1981 with the landmark book Psychoneuroimmunology. So, the 1947 and 1964 papers were not yet psychoneuroimmunology in the formal sense, but they were clearly moving toward it.

What made that direction important is that the old split between mind and body was starting to crack. Researchers were beginning to suspect that psychology, which means emotion, stress, and mental state, might be linked to immunity, the body’s defense system, and to disease from bodily illness or dysfunction.

 

The nervous-endocrine context means the broader body-regulation network involving the nervous system and the endocrine system that regulates hormone. They were moving toward the idea that emotion, stress reactions, hormones, nerves, immune cells, and illness are part of one interacting organism, not separate boxes that can be studied and treated in isolation.

 

From an ISA view, this historical line matters because it points away from narrow cognition-first and single-system biomedical reductionism. The bottom-up order is:

 

  • Instinctive signaling comes first as the prime mover

  • Emotional signaling comes with it

  • Implicit prediction structures in the long-term memory are then made or activated

  • Cognition

 

Only when those existing automatic patterns are not sufficient does cognition enter to gather new information, reality-test the situation, organize action, and help update the result into a new long-term implicit memory. That does not eliminate cognition. It changes its place in the sequence.

 

ISA’s proposed bottom-up signaling architecture, where emotional, autonomic, endocrine, respiratory, drive-state expressions, and immune pathways may feed into dynamic feedback systems, remains an ISA construct rather than a mainstream diagnostic category, but it is directionally aligned with the long movement toward more integrated organism-level models of psyche, mind, body, and disease.

 

Reference

Solomon, G. F., & Moos, R. H. (1964). Emotions, immunity, and disease: A speculative theoretical integration. Archives of General Psychiatry, 11(6), 657-674. https://doi.org/10.1001/archpsyc.1964.01720300087011

Sullivan and Opendak (2021)

 

The Study

Sullivan and Opendak reviewed how fear and anxiety develop in infancy, with a strong focus on animal research used to build bridges to child development. They argue that the infant fear system is not just a smaller version of the adult system.

 

In early life, the caregiver often functions as a “safe haven,” meaning the infant turns to the caregiver for protection, and caregiver presence can blunt stress hormones and reduce fear learning.

 

The review says that when the caregiver-child relationship is disrupted, for example through neglect, harsh care, or maltreatment, the caregiver may stop working as a reliable source of safety and stress reduction. This can weaken the child’s fear-buffering system, increase amygdala reactivity to threat, and raise the risk of later anxiety-like patterns. That matters because it places part of early fear development in attachment quality, stress regulation, and brain development before developing a mature ego and reliable cognition.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this study supports the broader ISA claim that caregiving quality, fear learning, and threat regulation can be shaped very early, below cognition.

 

Reference

Sullivan, R. M., & Opendak, M. (2021). Neurobiology of infant fear and anxiety: Impacts of delayed amygdala development and attachment figure quality. Biological Psychiatry, 89(7), 641–650. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.biopsych.2020.08.020

Tan, et al. (2014)

 

The Study

In the study, veterans with combat-related PTSD showed a less flexible heartbeat pattern than veterans without PTSD. This pattern is called heart rate variability, or HRV. HRV does not mean how fast the heart beats. It means how much the time gap between heartbeats naturally changes from one beat to the next. In general, more healthy variation suggests that the body’s stress-response system can shift more easily between alertness and recovery.

 

The study also found that veterans who did HRV biofeedback along with their usual treatment improved more than those who received usual treatment alone. Biofeedback means a person gets live information about what their body is doing, often on a screen, and uses that feedback to practice changing it. In this case, participants usually practiced breathing in a slower, steadier way to help the heart and nervous system work together more smoothly.

 

As their HRV improved, their PTSD symptoms also went down. The usual-treatment-only group did not show the same clear change. That matters because it suggests that some trauma-related distress may involve a body system that has become stuck in a less flexible stress pattern. In other words, recovery may sometimes depend not only on changing thoughts, but also on helping the body regain steadiness, rhythm, and better automatic regulation.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this verified pilot literature is consistent with the broader claim that stress-linked dysregulation can move through bottom-up autonomic pathways and that restoring physiological coherence may help shift patterns that are not fully reachable through cognition alone.

 

Reference

Tan, G., Dao, T. K., Farmer, L., Sutherland, R. J., & Gevirtz, R. (2011). Heart rate variability (HRV) and posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD): A pilot study. Applied Psychophysiology and Biofeedback, 36(1), 27-35. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10484-010-9141-y

Theoharides, T. C., et al. (2004)

 

The Study

This source is best understood as part of a study cluster on corticotropin-releasing hormone, or CRH, which is a major stress signal, and mast cells, which are immune cells that can release inflammatory chemicals.

 

The 2004 review argues that mast cells can be direct targets of CRH and related stress peptides, especially in stress-linked inflammatory conditions. Related experimental work from the same research line found that CRH caused mast cell degranulation, meaning the cells released stored inflammatory contents, and increased vascular permeability, meaning blood vessels became leakier. That effect was reduced by blocking CRH receptor 1, which supports a direct receptor pathway.

 

Related human mast cell work also found functional CRH receptors on mast cells and CRH-triggered secretion of vascular endothelial growth factor, or VEGF, a signal that can affect inflammation and blood vessels. This matters because it shows that stress chemistry may act directly on immune cells and body tissue, not only on thoughts or feelings.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this study may support one important segment of the bottom-up pathway for idiopathic psychological and physical dysregulation, especially the idea that stress-related body changes happen below cognition.

Overall, the study supports immune signaling most clearly, partly supports stress-hormone regulation and some drive-states such as pain, itch, swelling, flushing, and bodily arousal, and partly supports brain and threat processing.

 

 

Reference

Theoharides, T. C., et al. (2004). Corticotropin releasing hormone and mast cell activation. Endocrinology, 145(4), 2036–2045.

Tracey (2009)

 

The Study

Tracey’s review explains that the nervous system helps control immunity through a reflex system. Some nerves detect signs of injury or infection and send that information to the brainstem, and the brain can then send signals back through the vagus nerve to help keep inflammation from rising too far.

 

One important part of this braking system is the alpha7 nicotinic acetylcholine receptor, or alpha7nAChR, which is a receptor on some cytokine-producing immune cells such as macrophages. Cytokines are immune chemicals that help turn inflammation up or down. When this receptor is activated by acetylcholine, a nerve signaling chemical, it can reduce the activity of NF-kB, which is a major inside-the-cell switch that turns on many inflammatory genes.

 

In plain language, this pathway helps tell the immune cell to slow down, so it releases fewer pro-inflammatory cytokines and causes less inflammatory damage. This matters because it shows that inflammation is not only a local immune event. It is also shaped by brain-body signaling.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this study may help explain one part of why inflammatory autoimmune illnesses can become severe when this neural braking system is too weak or not engaged enough. The review suggests that vagus-linked signaling can help restrain inflammation, so reduced braking may allow inflammatory activity to stay higher or last longer than it should.

 

This also connects to autoimmune disease research in a broader way, because autoimmune diseases often involve excessive or poorly controlled inflammation, and the cholinergic anti-inflammatory pathway has been studied as one possible regulator of that process. However, the review does not show that failure of alpha7nAChR by itself causes autoimmune disease. It shows a brain-body mechanism that can help limit inflammation, which may be relevant to autoimmune and other inflammatory conditions and supports further research from an ISA perspective.

 

Reference

Tracey, K. J. (2009). Reflex control of immunity by the vagus nerve. Nature Reviews Immunology, 9(6), 418–428.

Turnbull & Solms (2002)

 

The Study

This book-length theoretical synthesis brings together brain science, neuropsychology, and clinical cases to explain subjective experience, meaning what it feels like to be a person from the inside. Using cases like Phineas Gage and later patients with frontal-lobe damage, meaning damage to the front part of the brain, the authors show that specific brain injuries can lead to predictable changes in personality and self-control.

 

They argue that consciousness is tied to deep brain systems, basic biological needs, and emotion, and that memory shapes behavior in both conscious and unconscious ways.

 

 In their model, dreams make more sense when instinctual consciousness, emotion, cognition, and memory are studied together rather than as separate topics. This matters because the whole book is trying to bridge inner experience and brain function instead of treating them as two different worlds.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support the broader claim that deeper affective and motivational layers, what ISA calls the Instinctual Consciousness (IC), help shape what later becomes clear self-awareness.

 

It is especially relevant because the book places consciousness close to need, emotion, and older brain systems, and it treats memory and dreaming as built on those deeper processes. This is consistent with a broad bottom-up framework in which important material may shape the person before it becomes fully clear to reflective awareness.

 

Reference

Solms, M., & Turnbull, O. (2002). The brain and the inner world: An introduction to the neuroscience of subjective experience. Other Press.

van der Kolk and Fisler (1995)

 

The Study

This paper was a review plus an exploratory study. The authors first reviewed research on how memories of overwhelming events may differ from memories of ordinary stressful events. They then reported findings from 46 people with PTSD, finding that these memories were often retrieved first as sensory and emotional fragments, such as images, smells, sounds, body feelings, and movement sensations, rather than as a clear story.

 

The authors argued that dissociation, meaning a protective mental disconnection during overwhelm, may help explain this pattern, and that a more organized narrative or “explicit memory,” meaning a memory you can tell as a coherent story, may emerge more gradually over time. This matters because it suggests that traumatic memory may not initially work like ordinary autobiographical memory.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one important part of the broader bottom-up framework, that overwhelming experience can remain partly outside clear self-awareness and later return first through sensation and felt emotion before it becomes a full narrative. This is consistent with ISA’s idea of a Dissociation Field, a split-off barrier that keeps important material outside easy access, and it fits ISA’s general view that cognition is not always the first place to look for the origin of dysregulation.

 

Reference

van der Kolk, B. A., & Fisler, R. (1995). Dissociation and the fragmentary nature of traumatic memories: Overview and exploratory study. Journal of Traumatic Stress, 8(4), 505-525. doi:10.1007/BF02102887.

von Schröder et al. (2025)

 

The Study

This was a resting-state fMRI study of 91 people with adverse childhood experiences. Resting-state functional connectivity means the researchers measured whether brain regions tended to rise and fall together, or in opposite directions, while a person was lying still and not doing a task.

 

The main point was dissociation linked to childhood abuse looked most tied to a split between cognitive control and memory systems, while neglect looked more tied to changes in how these regions worked together with body and action systems.

 

Before looking at the findings, it helps to know what these brain regions are generally responsible for:

 

  • Right anterior middle frontal gyrus: A front brain region involved in top-down control, including attention, working memory, response regulation, and some emotional regulation.

  • Hippocampus: a memory region that helps organize experience and context.

  • Right anterior cingulate: a region involved in monitoring conflict, tracking emotional significance, and helping the brain notice when something needs attention, adjustment, or control.

  • Right supplementary motor area: a region involved in preparing and controlling action.

  • Right insula: a region involved in body awareness and detecting what feels important or emotionally salient.

 

Right anterior middle frontal gyrus and hippocampus

The researchers focused on the right anterior middle frontal gyrus and tested how its connections changed with dissociative experiences, childhood abuse, and childhood neglect.

 

The most important finding was not simply that dissociation was present, and not simply that childhood abuse was present. It was that when higher dissociation and higher childhood abuse appeared together, the control region of the right anterior middle frontal gyrus showed a more opposite, or anti-correlated, connection with the hippocampus. In plain language, that suggests a greater split between regulation and memory in people with abuse-linked dissociation.

 

Right supplementary motor area and right insula

They also found a different pattern for neglect. Childhood neglect was linked to altered coordination between the control region and regions more involved in action readiness and body-signal awareness, especially the right supplementary motor area and right insula.

 

Right anterior cingulate

Greater adverse childhood experience overall was also linked to a more negative connection with the right anterior cingulate, a region involved in monitoring conflict and emotion.

 

The three outcomes of the study were:

 

  1. When dissociative symptoms and childhood abuse came together, they were most associated with a split between brain regions involved in top-down control and memory.

  2. Childhood neglect was more associated with changes in how brain regions involved in body awareness and action readiness worked together.

  3. Greater adverse childhood experience overall was also linked to changes in a region involved in monitoring conflict and emotional significance.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this may support one important part of the broader bottom-up picture, that a person’s split-off experience from childhood adversity can be reflected in altered brain-network coordination. It gives a possible brain-network explanation for why some experiences may stay partly cut off, fragmented, or hard to access clearly.

Abuse-linked dissociation looked most tied to a split between control and memory systems, while neglect looked more tied to altered coordination with body and action systems.

 

In ISA language, this is consistent with a Dissociation Field, where memory-related material remains partly separated from clearer cognitive self-access and from systems involved in regulation and control. This does not directly prove ISA’s wider claims , but it does support the narrower idea that childhood abuse-linked dissociation may leave a real brain-level signature in memory-control circuitry.

 

Reference

von Schröder, C., Nkrumah, R. O., Demirakca, T., Ende, G., & Schmahl, C. (2025). Dissociative experiences alter resting state functional connectivity after childhood abuse. Scientific Reports, 15(1), Article 4095. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-024-79023-9

Yehuda, R., et al. (1996)

 

The Study

Yehuda and colleagues studied how cortisol is released across a full day in combat veterans with PTSD, people with major depression, and healthy comparison subjects. Cortisol is a main stress hormone, and the HPA axis is the body system that helps control it.

 

The researchers took blood samples every 30 minutes for 24 hours so they could measure not only how much cortisol was present, but also how it rose and fell across the day. Cortisol is one of the body’s main stress hormones, and its normal pattern is tied to circadian rhythm, which means the body’s daily internal clock.

 

The PTSD group had lower overall cortisol levels, but their cortisol release followed a clearer and more regular daily rhythm. Circadian rhythm means the body’s built-in 24-hour timing system. In this study, the PTSD group’s cortisol pattern showed a stronger circadian signal-to-noise ratio, which means the daily rhythm stood out more clearly and was less mixed with irregular variation. The authors took this to mean that the stress system may have been re-tuned by earlier threat into a more tightly patterned state. Lower cortisol does not automatically mean a calmer system.

 

In this case, the point is that the system may still have been organized in a threat-shaped way, even at rest, but doing so through a lower and more tightly timed cortisol pattern rather than through generally elevated cortisol.

 

In contrast, the depression group showed a less rhythmic and more chaotic cortisol pattern, which suggests a more disrupted form of endocrine regulation rather than a tightly threat-tuned one.

 

This matters because it shows that long-term threat can change how the body regulates the timing and control of stress hormones, not simply keep them generally high. In simple terms, the body, more than cognition, may keep running on an older danger pattern shaped by earlier threat, even after the original danger is over.

 

ISA relevance

From an ISA view, this helps support the idea that trauma-like suffering may involve whole-system dysregulation, not only distressing thoughts or feelings. If cortisol timing and endocrine rhythm can be reshaped by Malignant Complexes, then lasting change may also need to reach the level of body regulation, where cognitive approaches cannot access.

 

Reference

Yehuda, R., et al. (1996). Cortisol regulation in post-traumatic stress disorder. American Journal of Psychiatry, 153(1), 83–89.

Zagaria, Fiori, Vacca, Lombardo, Pariante, and Ballesio (2024)

 

The Study

Zagaria and colleagues tested whether inflammation helps explain part of the link between Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) and adult depression. They used a meta-analytic structural equation model, which means they combined many studies and tested a pathway model across them.

 

The review included 22 studies. It looked at several blood markers linked to inflammation, which is part of the body’s immune response. These markers included C-reactive protein, or CRP, interleukin-6, or IL-6, and tumor necrosis factor alpha, or TNF-α. These are substances in the body that often rise when the immune system is more active.

 

The researchers also looked at combined inflammation scores, which means they grouped several inflammation markers together into one broader measure.

In the first set of analyses, called unadjusted models, CRP, IL-6, and the combined inflammation scores showed small but statistically significant mediation effects. A mediation effect means that inflammation seemed to help explain part of how early adversity was linked to later depression.

 

In simple terms, the findings suggested that early adversity may contribute to later depression partly by increasing inflammation.

 

The picture changed after the researchers adjusted for body mass index, or BMI. BMI is a rough measure based on height and weight, and it is often used as a basic indicator of body size. After BMI was taken into account, the earlier mediation effects were no longer significant. This suggests that some of the inflammation link may overlap with body weight or metabolism, which refers to how the body uses and stores energy.

 

However, one longer pathway still remained. The data still supported a serial path from adverse childhood experiences, or ACEs, to higher BMI, then to higher IL-6, and then to depression. A serial path means a step-by-step chain, where one factor may lead into the next. This matters because it suggests inflammation may still be part of the pathway from early adversity to adult depression, but it is probably not the whole story. Body metabolism may also be an important part of that chain.

 

ISA relevance

This study is very important for ISA because it helps show that the link between early adversity and adult depression is not only psychological. Part of that link may move through the body, especially through immune and inflammatory activity. That supports ISA’s core bottom-up position that trauma-like burden can travel through psychoneuroimmune pathways before it later appears as emotional suffering. Just as important, the study does not reduce the story to inflammation alone, which also fits ISA’s broader biopsychosocial view that multiple body systems can help carry forward the effects of early adversity.

 

Reference

Zagaria, A., Fiori, V., Vacca, M., Lombardo, C., Pariante, C. M., & Ballesio, A. (2024). Inflammation as a mediator between adverse childhood experiences and adult depression: A meta-analytic structural equation model. Journal of Affective Disorders, 357, 85–96. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jad.2024.04.072

Zhou and Ryan (2023)

 

The Study

Zhou and Ryan reviewed whether early-life adversity can become biologically embedded, meaning built into long-term body processes that may affect health years later.

 

They explain epigenetics as chemical changes that can alter how genes work without changing the DNA code, and they focus especially on DNA methylation, which is a chemical tag added to DNA that can change gene activity.

 

The paper combines an overview of animal and human evidence with a scoping review of human studies using the terms intergenerational, meaning from one generation directly to the next, and transgenerational, meaning across later generations without direct exposure.

 

In the human scoping review, they identified 22 publications from 19 independent studies, and they concluded that the evidence is preliminary:

 

  • A parent’s stress may be linked to small biological changes in how a child’s genes are regulated.

 

The studies are limited by observational designs, retrospective reporting, narrow high-severity samples, and the difficulty of separating epigenetic effects from shared genes, environment, and behavior. This does not mean stress rewrites the child’s DNA, and it does not mean the outcome is fixed or guaranteed. It means researchers are studying whether parental stress is associated with changes in how genes are turned up or down in offspring.

 

This matters because it supports a real body-based pathway by which early adversity may shape later health, while also warning against overstating what is proven about cross-generational transmission.

 

ISA relevance

This study is relevant to ISA because it suggests that early adversity may become biologically embedded in body-level regulation over time. That fits ISA’s bottom-up view that distress may begin in stress, body, and survival systems before it is fully organized in cognition. For that reason, ISA modalities focus on working with emotion, body-signals, symbolic material, relational patterning, and memory, not only with cognition. The study does not prove ISA is more effective than CBT, but it does support ISA’s argument that cognition-first approaches miss part of the problem when dysregulation has become embedded below cognitive awareness.

 

Reference

Zhou, A., & Ryan, J. (2023). Biological embedding of early-life adversity and a scoping review of the evidence for intergenerational epigenetic transmission of stress and trauma in humans. Genes, 14(8), 1639. https://doi.org/10.3390/genes14081639

Zierau, O., et al. (2012)

 

The Study

Zierau and colleagues reviewed research on how the female sex hormones estradiol and progesterone affect mast cells. Mast cells are immune cells found in many tissues. They help the body respond to threat, but they can also drive inflammation by releasing chemicals such as histamine, which can contribute to swelling, irritation, redness, pain, and allergy-like reactions.

 

The review explains that mast cells have hormone receptors, which are like docking sites that let hormones bind to the cell and influence what it does. This matters because it means sex hormones do not only affect reproduction. They can also act directly on parts of the immune system.

 

The paper also describes evidence that estradiol can trigger degranulation. Degranulation means the mast cell quickly releases some of the inflammatory chemicals it has stored inside. In simple terms, the hormone signal can help push the immune cell into action. The review notes that this effect often involves estrogen receptor alpha, which is one specific receptor through which estrogen can act.

The review further says that changes in hormone levels may affect how many mast cells are present, where they move, how they mature, and how easily they become activated, especially in reproductive tissues. In plain language, shifting hormone levels may change both the number of these immune cells and how reactive they are.

 

This is important because it shows that inflammation is not only about how much of a hormone is in the body at one moment. It may also depend on timing, meaning when hormone signals and immune signals meet and interact. That helps explain why some inflammatory symptoms may become worse, better, or more changeable across different hormonal states.

 

ISA relevance

This source supports ISA because it shows a plausible body route for Psychogenic Transduction, meaning the process by which unresolved emotional material may be converted into bodily dysregulation. Zierau reviews evidence that estrogen can directly affect mast cells and inflammatory activity. From an ISA view, that matters because it shows how physiology can be shaped through endocrine-immune interaction well below cognition. The study does not prove ISA’s Malignant Complex directly, but it is consistent with the idea that a deep trauma-like emotional pattern can alter body function through stress-linked hormonal and immune pathways.

 

This is important because it shifts the frame away from symptom reduction alone. If dysregulation is partly carried through timing problems across endocrine and immune systems, then the problem is not always just an organic disease factor. From an ISA view, it may also reflect a deeper emotionally disrupted pattern being expressed through the body. That is one reason cognition-first models may help manage symptoms while still failing to reach the deeper structures that continue to drive the physiology.

 

Reference

Zierau, O., et al. (2012). Estrogen and mast cell regulation. Immunobiology, 217(7), 827–833.

bottom of page