A Computational Neuroscience Perspective On The Change Process in Psychotherapy
A Computational Neuroscience Perspective On The Change Process in Psychotherapy
A Computational Neuroscience
Perspective on the Change Process
in Psychotherapy
Ryan Smith, Richard D. Lane, Lynn Nadel, and Michael Moutoussis
Introduction
Ryan Smith, Richard D. Lane, Lynn Nadel, and Michael Moutoussis, A Computational Neuroscience
Perspective on the Change Process in Psychotherapy In: Neuroscience of Enduring Change. Edited by:
Richard D. Lane and Lynn Nadel, Oxford University Press (2020).
© Oxford University Press.
DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780190881511.003.0015
396 Integrative Perspectives
Anderson, & Henson, 2017; Pezzulo, Rigoli, & Friston, 2015; Schwartenbeck,
FitzGerald, Mathys, Dolan, & Friston, 2015). The growth of this computational
neuroscience approach is attributable to several different factors, including
(among others) its precise (mathematically defined) theoretical constructs and
the resources it offers for modeling neural processes in a manner that allows for
quantitative experimental predictions.
As computational approaches have advanced in the cognitive/neural sciences,
they have also seen applications in psychiatry. Applications to psychopathology
have led to the emerging field of “computational psychiatry” (Friston, Stephan,
Montague, & Dolan, 2014; Huys, Guitart-Masip, Dolan, & Dayan, 2015; Huys,
Maia, & Frank, 2016; Parr, Rees, & Friston, 2018). This field seeks to (a) under-
stand how normative and aberrant neurocomputational processes can promote
maladaptive patterns of perception, learning, and behavior and (b) leverage this
understanding to inform treatment. Computational characterizations of cer-
tain psychotherapeutic interventions (Moutoussis, Shahar, Hauser, & Dolan,
2017) and of subjective, psychiatrically relevant emotions (Will, Rutledge,
Moutoussis, & Dolan, 2017) have also started to emerge. In this volume, com-
putational approaches have already been invoked in a few chapters (i.e., see
Chapters 3, 4, 6, 10, 14, and 16 of this volume).
Our goal in this chapter is to extend previous discussions with a focus on the
potential intersection of computational psychiatry with the IMM. The struc-
ture of this chapter is as follows: (a) we will briefly review models of probabilistic
inference and the algorithms thought to implement it in the brain; (b) we will
provide examples of how, within these models, memory updating (i.e., learning)
could lead to effective psychotherapeutic change; and (c) we will discuss the
implications this has for the IMM approach.
We focus on a few major themes:
P (B)P (E | B)
P (B | E) =
p(E ) Equation 1.
The term P(E) is the marginal likelihood, which takes into account how likely the
experience is in general (i.e., how consistent the experience is with other possible
beliefs). Technically, it ensures that the posterior is normalized (i.e., is between
0 and 1).
To illustrate how this theorem can be applied to a clinically relevant topic—
emotional awareness—consider a case in which an individual has just experi-
enced a bodily affective response, and their brain is trying to infer what emotion
concept (if any) best explains or accounts for their bodily sensations. For sim-
plicity, we will assume that the brain is only trying to infer whether sadness or
sickness is the best way of understanding their experience. Next, we will assume
that the individual has two pieces of information: (a) that they are at a funeral
(context) and (b) that their movements feel slow and effortful. Further assume
that, (a) in the context of a funeral, P(SAD) = 0.8 and P(SICK) = 0.2 (i.e., sadness
is more expected than sickness while at a funeral), and that P(“slow movement”
| SAD) = 0.4 and P(“slow movement” | SICK) = 0.6 (i.e., slow movement is more
consistent with sickness than sadness). If an individual’s brain were using an al-
gorithm that approximates Bayes’ theorem, the inference would go as follows.
First, calculate the marginal likelihood, P(E):
Then, for each possible interpretation of the experience (SAD or SICK), take
the product of the prior and the likelihood, P(B) and P(E | B), and divide by the
marginal likelihood, P(E):
Here we can see that the brain would infer that, in the context of a funeral,
sadness is more likely (P = 0.73) to account for these bodily feelings—
corresponding to the conscious recognition by the individual that he or she is
feeling sad. It is understood that this process occurs unconsciously but that its
outputs can (but need not always) become available to subjective awareness.
(note: the term “belief,” as used in this context, is an element of sub-personal
inference processes, and therefore will not always correspond to a conscious,
reportable belief.)
A Computational Neuroscience Perspective 399
Note here that for an individual to adaptively infer what emotion(s) best account
for what they are feeling (i.e., to have high emotional awareness), they will need
to (a) have learned about many different possible emotions (i.e., possess many
emotion concepts), (b) have learned the right priors for different emotions in
different contexts (e.g., knowing anxiety is more likely when giving a speech than
when watching TV at home), and (c) have learned the right likelihood functions
for each emotion (e.g., that feeling “high energy” is more consistent with excite-
ment than with depression). Note, in passing, that inferring the right emotion
can then usefully inform prior beliefs about actions to be performed next (for ex-
plicit computational models of these processes, see Smith, Lane, Parr, & Friston,
2019; Smith, Parr, & Friston, 2019).
Importantly, to accomplish this kind of inference process, the brain must in
some sense embody a generative model of the world. Generative models can be
thought of as specific combinations of prior and likelihood values, which de-
scribe the joint probability of all salient causes and consequent perceptions. They
are termed “generative” because, given a set of internally represented possible
causes (i.e., possible beliefs about what could be happening in the world outside
of the brain), they can generate predictions (e.g., about the sensory inputs those
causes would produce). This is the inverse of the previous inference, which led
from sensations to causes (or from experiences to beliefs about the most likely
causes or interpretations of those experiences).
One aspect of Bayesian cognition that is highly relevant for understanding
clinical phenomena is that the reliability of prior expectations and sensory inputs
typically depend upon context. For example, visual input may be more reliable
during the day than it is at night. Optimal inference requires that, in any given
context, the brain must learn how much it should “trust” new sensory input and
how much it should instead trust the prior expectations it has previously ac-
quired. To solve this further problem, the probability distributions used in Bayes’
theorem can be associated with estimated level of reliability or “precision.” Thus,
sensory inputs which are estimated (believed) to have higher precision (i.e., less
variance), or are otherwise believed to carry more reliable information, will con-
tribute more to inference than sensory input with lower estimated precision/reli-
ability; in the latter case, prior expectations will dominate inference. Thus, in our
previous example, if the sensory evidence for “slow movement” were imprecise
(e.g., movement felt slow in general, but its speed varied a lot from one moment
to the next), the brain would trust its prior expectations about sadness versus
sickness much more (i.e., the likelihood term would be effectively downweighted
in the previous equation). This can be thought of as the individual paying less
attention to movement speed when trying to figure out what emotion they are
experiencing (Feldman & Friston, 2010; Parr & Friston, 2017). Thus, in our ex-
ample of inferring one’s own emotions, a fourth requirement for high emotional
400 Integrative Perspectives
awareness is the need for adaptive precision estimates (i.e., knowing what to pay
attention to and what to ignore during the inference process).
Based on the previously described framework, at a very broad level there are
three major types of “memories” stored in the brain as a part of its internal model
of the world: expectations (priors), the relationships between particular sensory
inputs and particular beliefs or descriptions of what is happening out in the world
(likelihoods), and estimates about how reliable particular sensory inputs and
prior expectations are in a given context (precision estimates). Computationally,
these memories are learned parameters of the internal model, such as the ex-
pectation and precision of the priors, parameters of the likelihood function, etc.
It is important to be clear, however, that these general types of memories can
be stored for a vast range of different types of representational content. For ex-
ample, a person might have prior expectations that they have low self-worth,
that other people are highly judgmental, that the world is uncontrollable, that
what their friends tell them is unreliable, and that feelings of low energy are more
consistent with sickness than sadness. Thus it is the content of certain specific
priors, likelihoods, and precision estimates in an individual’s internal model that
can generate maladaptive percepts, beliefs, emotions, and behaviors in partic-
ular clinical cases. Therapeutic interventions will be effective to the extent that
they can alter these internally stored parameters, so as to make them more adap-
tive. In the following section, we will review how each of these stored parameters
(which can be thought of as implicit memories) can be linked to changes in syn-
aptic strengths between different types of neurons in the brain.
Once this normative Bayesian framework is in place, one can explore and test
neural process theories capable of implementing algorithms that approximate
Bayes’ theorem—allowing them to successfully solve a wide range of inference
problems (i.e., so long as relevant parameters stored in memory are not too far
from their true values). Requiring biological plausibility at the process level
ensures that the resulting theory will be capable of capturing realistic neural-level
explanations for how individuals interact with their environment. These process
theories can be broadly classified into those dealing with stimulus conditions, or
perception, and those dealing with actions, or behavior.
In the domain of perception, the “predictive coding” theory represents one
important approach (e.g., Friston, 2005). According to predictive coding theory,
the brain is organized into hierarchical levels of representation. Each level
has two classes of neurons: prediction neurons and prediction error neurons.
Prediction neurons at each level provide priors, shaped by the strength of
A Computational Neuroscience Perspective 401
descending synapses, regarding the expected activity at the level below, driven by
activity representing current beliefs at the level above. At the lowest level, these
would be priors regarding sensory input. Prediction error neurons convey likeli-
hood information to the level above, signaling the difference between predicted
values and those most consistent with a new observation (e.g., the difference be-
tween predicted and actual sensory input at the lowest level). By finding the set
of represented percepts/beliefs that minimize prediction error across levels, the
updated percepts/beliefs will approximate the optimal Bayesian solution. This
layered set of interconnected inferences then corresponds to the multilayered,
rich structure of our moment-to-moment perceptions.
Pyramidal neurons in cortical layers 5/6 have been hypothesized to estimate
predictions, and pyramidal neurons in layers 2/3 to estimate prediction error
(Bastos et al., 2012). Downward prediction signals from layer 5/6 are thought to
be synaptically conveyed by glutamatergic NMDA receptors, which have slow
time constants; in contrast, the synaptic AMPA receptors are thought to me-
diate upward prediction error signals, which have fast time constants (Friston,
2005; Salin & Bullier, 1995). This allows predictions at one level to involve tem-
porally extended patterns of change at the level below. Progressively higher
levels of cortex can therefore learn about progressively longer timescale patterns
(e.g., recognizing the meaning of a word, a phrase, a sentence, a paragraph, etc.;
Hasson, Chen, & Honey, 2015; Hasson, Yang, Vallines, Heeger, & Rubin, 2008;
Kiebel, Daunizeau, & Friston, 2008; Murray, 2014). Higher levels also incorpo-
rate a progressively wider (more convergent) array of inputs, allowing greater
spatial and multimodal integration. Within the higher association cortices most
associated with long-term memory, one can therefore learn about long timescale
relationships across many types of perceptual experiences. This would allow one
to learn, for example, that fear often involves the co-occurrence of muscle ten-
sion and a perceived threat. Finally, precision estimates are implemented in pre-
dictive coding through neuromodulatory systems (e.g., the synaptic strengths
of serotonergic, dopaminergic, and noradrenergic synapses) that amplify or
suppress the strength of synaptic inputs conveying more reliable or less reliable
prediction error signals, respectively. Thus, if a person paid more attention to
muscle tension when trying to recognize their emotions, the activity of predic-
tion error neurons associated with muscle tension estimates would be upwardly
modulated. For a simplified illustration of the dynamics of this type of neural
network architecture, see Figure 15.1 and the figure legend describing the asso-
ciated example (i.e., where a neural network has to infer happiness level based on
perceived energy level, given different priors, and precision estimates).
With respect to behavior, two overlapping perspectives are of particular in-
terest, referred to as reinforcement learning (RL; Sutton & Barto, 1998) and ac-
tive inference (AI; Friston et al., 2016) models. Both provide algorithms capable
402 Integrative Perspectives
Figure 15.1 (A) A possible neural basis for an internal model guiding the
recognition of one’s own level of happiness based on felt energy levels. This example
illustrates how the same input (neutral energy level) can be interpreted as a sign of
higher or lower levels of happiness based on different learned prior expectations and
precision estimates. In this model, blue triangles indicate cortical pyramidal neurons,
and black lines indicate axons terminating in synaptic connections. Arrows indicate
excitatory synaptic influences, and circles indicate inhibitory synaptic influences
(dashed arrows are not modeled, but indicate additional context-specific modulatory
influences that would be present in a more complete model). Activity of the
“Happiness Level” (HL) neuron estimates level of happiness, and “Energy Level” (EL)
neuron activity represents felt level of energy (i.e., low activity indicates low energy
and high activity indicates high energy). The two “Prediction Error” (PE) neurons
reflect prediction errors associated with HL activation (higher level) and with EL
activation (lower level). The strength of the two looping axons’ synapses (connecting
each PE neuron to itself) estimates the precision (reliability) of prior expectations
(πHL; higher level) and ELactivity (πEL; lower level). Expected happiness (PrHL) is
conveyed through the strength of the top–down inhibitory synapse on the higher-
level PE neuron. Although not modeled here, PP (“Predictive Processing”) models
also include quantitative synaptic learning mechanisms (i.e., update equations)
allowing the strengths of the PrHL, πHL, and πEL synapses (i.e., prior expectations and
precision estimates) to be altered over time to better match patterns in experience.
Panels B through E illustrate changes in HL neuron activity (i.e., inferred happiness
level; black lines) over time when presented with a neutral energy level (i.e.,
moderate EL activity, most consistent with a neutral amount of happiness, all else
being equal; blue lines) under different model parameter values. These different
A Computational Neuroscience Perspective 403
In this first example, we will cast fear of spiders, its treatment, and the limitations
of this treatment in terms of computational neuroscience. The crucial issue here
is to infer whether the causes behind sensory experiences associated with spiders
are actually dangerous. Here, we will emphasize this by talking about “latent”
causes—the underlying (often unobservable) situations/factors that generate
patterns in an individual’s subjective observations (Gershman, Norman, & Niv,
2015). We will supplement the dynamics of changing latent causes with a predic-
tive coding/active inference model to describe spider phobia and its treatment
using exposure therapy. As illustrated in Figure 15.2, a heuristic three-level gen-
erative model (see Figure 15.1 for more detail) can add intuition regarding the
relevant computational mechanisms. This model illustrates how:
The ability to infer latent causes is considered highly adaptive within the envir-
onments that humans and other animals inhabit. Not only are causes hidden,
but their effects may change (Chan, Niv, & Norman, 2016). Thus, when an
A Computational Neuroscience Perspective 407
Low Heart
High Heart Avoidance “Spider- Approach
Level 1 Rate & Pain Behavior
“Black”
shaped”
Rate & No
Behavior
Percepts
Pain
individual’s expectations are violated, this can be resolved with two types of be-
lief updates. First, the brain could infer that the same cause (that has been active
all along) now produces different observations. Second, and more likely if one
assumes that causal relationships in the world are fairly stable, the brain could
infer that a new latent cause is now present instead of the previous one.
This latter inference appears to occur in most animal studies on fear extinc-
tion (Gershman et al., 2015), where the original relationship between a condi-
tioned and unconditioned stimulus (CS and US, respectively) is in fact generated
by an unobservable latent cause (i.e., in this case that unobservable cause is the
current goal of the experimenter). When this relationship abruptly changes
during extinction trials, the animal’s brain now (implicitly) infers the presence
of a new latent cause (often referred to as forming a new “safety memory” in the
animal extinction literature) and that this second latent cause is generating the
new CS–US relationship (i.e., in this case the new cause is the experimenter’s
new goal, but the animal only implicitly infers that the cause has changed—it
doesn’t know what the cause is). However, in ambiguous future circumstances,
the brain can infer the probable return of the original latent cause, leading to
spontaneous recovery (return of fear). Interestingly, one prediction of latent
cause models is that if the CS–US relationship changes gradually as opposed to
abruptly, this would favor the inference that the original latent cause is still pre-
sent but that the observations it generates have evolved (i.e., altering the original
“fear memory”; memory reconsolidation), which should prevent return of fear.
Significantly, a recent experiment (Gershman, Jones, Norman, Monfils, & Niv,
2013) confirmed this prediction by showing that spontaneous fear recovery did
not occur after a gradual (as opposed to abrupt) extinction phase (i.e., in which
the CS was followed by the US with lower and lower frequency, instead of simply
ceasing to follow the CS completely right from the start).
Recent studies have provided evidence that the OFC infers/represents prob-
ability distributions over latent causes, where different OFC activation patterns
correspond to different probable latent cause inferences—leading to different
top–down influences (prior predictions) over lower-level structures (e.g., the
amygdala; Chan et al., 2016). These different top–down influences alter lower-
level predictions regarding co-occurring stimuli, leading, for example, a CS
representation to predict a US representation under one pattern of top–down
influence but not under another. In the case of gradual extinction, on the other
hand, one would expect lower-level representations of CS–US relationships (e.g.,
in the amygdala) to change while under the same top–down influence (reflecting
the same latent cause), although this has not been thoroughly tested to date.
Having introduced these relevant preliminary concepts, the present example
of exposure therapy in spider phobia will make use of the three-level predictive
processing model shown in Figure 15.2. The individual with spider phobia starts
out representing the presence of a latent cause at the third level that we will refer
to as the “threat context,” which predicts the high-probability co-occurrence
of the concept SPIDER and the concept DANGER. The concept SPIDER in
turn predicts particular exteroceptive perceptual representations (e.g., “black,”
“spider-shaped”); thus, when a spider is actually observed, prediction error min-
imization leads to an increase in the represented probability of these perceptual
representations, which in turn increases the represented probability of the con-
cept SPIDER (i.e., the person would recognize the presence of a spider). Because
the threat context predicts the high-probability co-occurrence of the concept
SPIDER and the concept DANGER, this latter concept is also strongly activated
and predicts specific somatosensory, interoceptive, and proprioceptive percepts
(e.g., those associated with pain, high heart rate, and avoidance behavior, respec-
tively). Assuming interoceptive/proprioceptive predictions are assigned high
precision in the threat context, the person would therefore respond to seeing
a spider by displaying an increased heart rate and by behaviorally avoiding the
spider (which could also be cast more explicitly in terms of the policy selection
processes described previously). The most clinically relevant memories in this
description are here identified as the learned prediction strengths (priors) be-
tween levels (e.g., the threat context representation predicts the co-occurrence of
SPIDER and DANGER with probability = 0.9; likely mediated by the strengths of
top–down synaptic connections between OFC neurons from the higher level to
lower-level neurons in the amygdala and other temporal lobe structures).
During exposure therapy, an individual abruptly and continuously observes
a spider along with the absence of many percepts predicted by the concept
DANGER (e.g., no pain and reduced arousal over time). As described previously,
when these prediction errors are strong and abrupt during extinction, the brain
does not appear to minimize the resulting prediction error signals by altering the
410 Integrative Perspectives
represented probability that SPIDER and DANGER will co-occur in the threat
context; instead, it infers that the latent cause has changed and that it is now in a
new world state that we will call the “safe context” (i.e., even if the threat context
and safe context are otherwise perceptually indistinguishable). Therefore, the ex-
posure experience teaches the brain that, in the safe context, the probability that
SPIDER and DANGER will co-occur is low and that the probability that SPIDER
and SAFETY will co-occur is high instead. Put another way, the individual’s brain
still implicitly believes that the original latent causal association exists; it simply
infers that a different (unobservable) latent cause is now present. Following the
previously described explanatory structure, because SAFETY predicts low heart
rate and approach behavior, this is how an individual will respond to the spider
after exposure therapy (again, for simplicity, we have here omitted discussion
of additional nuances associated with policy selection). However, the original
memories associated with the threat context are still present and can lead to the
return of phobic symptoms as soon as the brain again represents that this latent
cause has returned. The process of inferring the new safe context corresponds to
the “new memory” typically created during extinction learning, which is thought
to explain why spontaneous recovery (i.e. “return of fear”) can occur after extinc-
tion (i.e., because the original threat context predictions can still be reactivated).
Following schema theory, the establishment of two sets of associations, when
simply SPIDER–SAFETY would suffice, has been termed “overaccommodation”
(Moutoussis et al., 2017).
Based on the recent work on gradual extinction, however, it would be possible
to alter the threat context memory instead (i.e., alter the descending synaptic
influence this latent cause representation has on lower-level structures and/or
alter lateral synaptic interactions encoding expected co-variance relationships
between the lower-level representations of SPIDER and DANGER). This would
happen if the size of prediction errors driven by the threat context were man-
aged so as to change gradually, rather than abruptly, because large prediction
errors during abrupt extinction favor new latent cause inference, whereas
smaller prediction errors during gradual extinction may promote slower
changes to beliefs about the original latent cause. In experimental conditioning/
extinction paradigms, this is achieved by slowly rather than abruptly lowering
the experienced frequency with which the CS co-occurs with the US, but in the
human context, where an individual has rarely or never actually experienced
a dangerous spider bite, other clinically relevant features analogous to the US
frequency that may signal latent cause switching must be considered. One such
feature may simply be the presence versus absence of a therapist (Moutoussis
et al., 2017). Carefully designed behavioral experiments could make a start on
this by explicitly inviting the patient not only to work within his or her own
threat contexts but also to mitigate the downstream consequences predicted
A Computational Neuroscience Perspective 411
SOCIAL SOCIAL
Level 2 Concepts
REJECTION ACCEPTANCE
Figure 15.3 An extension of the hierarchical model in Figure 15.2 to the case of
maladaptive abstract expectations learned during childhood and how these can
influence perception, conceptualization, and behavior. Here, the abstract Level
3 expectation that “I am not a person of value” predicts SOCIAL REJECTION,
which, in turn, predicts ambiguous percepts of the behavior of others (e.g., neutral
facial expressions and looking away) as well as “unpleasant high arousal” and
“avoidance behavior.” Thus, when the “I am not a person of value” expectation biases
perception and conceptualization, such ambiguous percepts will be recognized as
evidence of social rejection and lead to unpleasant arousal and avoidance behavior.
In contrast, the Level 3 expectation that “I am a person of value” predicts SOCIAL
ACCEPTANCE, which, in turn, predicts the same ambiguous percepts of the
behavior of others (e.g., neutral facial expressions and looking away) as well as
“pleasant low arousal” and “approach behavior.” Thus, when the “I am a person
of value” expectation biases perception and conceptualization, such ambiguous
percepts will be recognized as consistent with social acceptance and lead to low
arousal and approach behavior. Even higher levels could also be included in such
a model, where a person expects that they are valuable/lovable in certain contexts
but not others. As in Figure15.2, black arrows indicate the exchange of mutually
reinforcing top–down predictions and bottom–up prediction error signals between
hierarchical levels, whereas the smaller gray arrows indicate lateral (within-layer)
excitatory and inhibitory signaling.
A Computational Neuroscience Perspective 413
Figure 15.4 Illustration of the shortcut problem (based on Sutton & Barto, 1998,
Figure 9.8). In this example, the agent lives in “gridworld,” where each square
represents an abstract “state” the agent can occupy (e.g., the state of being at school,
the state of feeling anxiety, etc.). There are four actions available in each state (up,
down, left, and right), which lead the agent to move to a different state (unless a
barrier is blocking the state transition, in which case the agent remains in the same
state). These abstract actions stand in for actions a real person would consider when
in a real state they recognize (e.g., expressing vs. suppressing emotions when in the
state of feeling anxiety, leading the agent to transition to a new state that may be
rewarding, punishing, or neutral). Initially, the agent explores randomly (starting
in state “S”), and eventually finds state “G” (which represents the “goal state” that
provides a reward). Based on the mathematically defined learning algorithms for
learning/planning within reinforcement learning (RL) models, over many trials the
agent comes to prefer (i.e., assign the highest value to) the actions indicated by the
arrows shown in each state (i.e., which would be selected by model-free algorithms);
model-based algorithms can also use a learned internal model of gridworld to
simulate different possible action sequences and select the optimal route in the
model. In this example, the optimal route (i.e., going left and up around the barrier)
is accurately learned for the “childhood environment” (top). In adulthood (bottom),
however, the world has changed, and a more optimal “shortcut” path is possible (i.e.,
the shorter open path going right and then up). However, for multiple reasons, many
RL algorithms (such as one-step tabular Q-learning) will fail to ever learn that this
more adaptive behavior pattern exists. First, model-free algorithms will continue to
A Computational Neuroscience Perspective 415
certain situation, such as in the context (grid) of an angry parent (barrier), can be
thought of in these terms.
However, even if such behaviors were historically optimal, the situation in
adulthood often differs dramatically from that in childhood. This may be espe-
cially true if one’s childhood environment was characterized by abuse or neglect,
where “optimal” behavioral adaptations can lead to very poor functioning in
adulthood. For example, in adulthood, approaching certain states of an angry
partner compassionately but assertively may offer the most healthy and effective
means (the “shortcut”) leading to preferred outcomes. For those who never had
to go the “long way” in childhood (i.e., avoidance or defensive behavior, because
the “approach” strategy just mentioned was severely punished in childhood),
it can be difficult to understand why suboptimal behaviors are repeated again
and again in adulthood. The bottom panel of Figure 15.4 illustrates this: com-
putational algorithms relying on local exploration have difficulty solving this
problem, failing to learn that the shortcut even exists.
To understand this, consider the values of different actions (“action values”)
that guide behavior. Action-values can be either directly stored as memories to
be retrieved in each state, or calculated on the fly using (now inaccurate semantic
and episodic) memories of the current context. “Trying out” behaviors that
would allow learning about the shortcut would, according to the client’s internal
model, lead to states with worse values and worse affect, while their established
this behavior and prevent return to the abusive partner (and eventually seek out
a healthier relationship).
The latter type of memory update would lead to similar affective and behavioral
consequences, but with lower chances of later return of fear.
In Example 2, the clinically relevant memories that are changed in therapy
are the learned probabilities (priors) regarding high-level, abstract expectations
about long timescale regularities in the world (e.g., whether or not people in ge-
neral will tend to value and accept you). These changes then alter (a) the way
social interactions are interpreted and (b) the affective bodily and behavioral
responses such interactions lead to.
The types of memories described in these first two examples map best onto the
psychological construct of implicit schemas within semantic memory (previous
work has also linked schemas to latent causes; Chan et al., 2016). For example,
implicit schemas about dangerous or non-dangerous events that are expected in
particular situations or implicit schemas about the likely results of social inter-
action. Any potential changes in direct (within-level) probabilistic relationships
between percepts would instead correspond best to changes in implicit emo-
tional memories (e.g., classically conditioned response memories). For example,
changes in the degree to which the percept of a spider directly predicts (and thus
leads to) bodily changes such as increased heart rate and muscle tension (i.e., in-
dependent of context).
In Example 3, the clinically relevant memories that are changed in therapy in-
volve the stored action values and state values (used by MF and MB algorithms)
to choose between different available behaviors in different perceived states (situ-
ations). By promoting/motivating exploration of previously aversive states, these
420 Integrative Perspectives
In simple phobia (Example 1), we saw that exposure and response prevention
processes may provide powerful prediction error signals driving the brain to
infer an encounter with a new (although perceptually similar) context, where the
likelihood of danger in the presence of the anxiogenic stimulus is low. However,
it may also be possible for effective beliefs about the threat context to be revised
instead, preventing fear recovery. One way to facilitate this would be to moti-
vate the client to engage in exposures under conditions that match their own
threat context (e.g., the client’s home), as opposed to in a new safe context (e.g., at
the clinic). Another interesting hypothesis to be tested is to dissociate a stimulus
and the feared response gradually as opposed to abruptly. This, however, would
not mean gradual exposure with the consistent absence of feared consequences
(as is typical in exposure therapies), but would instead mean that the feared
consequences would be observed initially, perhaps illustrating the developmental
or evolutionary preparedness behind phobias, and would slowly be observed
with lower and lower frequencies over many exposures to a phobic stimulus.
For example, in spider phobia, one could perhaps first show video clips in which
a spider does bite someone but then also occasionally show clips in which the
spider does not cause harm. If over time the frequency of “bite” videos went
down and the frequency of “no-bite” videos went up, perhaps this would pro-
mote revision of the stored probabilities within the threat context. If successful,
this approach would be expected to minimize spontaneous return of fear. In
IMM terms, it would involve reactivation, revision, and reconsolidation of the
original memory and thus a more generalized change, rather than creation of a
new safety memory vulnerable to being superseded by the original memory in
stressful circumstances (return of fear).
Other psychotherapy approaches can be understood somewhat similarly.
For example, both cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT; e.g., Barlow, Allen, &
Choate, 2016) and acceptance and commitment therapy (e.g., Hayes & Smith,
2005) have similar exposure-based components. However, they also teach cog-
nitive strategies (mindful awareness, cognitive flexibility, cognitive distancing,
acceptance, etc.) that may prevent cognitive processes from interfering with
memory updating (e.g., by reducing the estimated precision of automatic neg-
ative thoughts).
A Computational Neuroscience Perspective 421
Example 2), this would ultimately also facilitate enough motivation and under-
standing to explore (previously) aversive states in spite of avoidant urges.
Therefore, superficially different therapeutic techniques all can ultimately re-
sult in therapeutic efficacy through updating learned expectations and memories
associated with (a) the information stored in one’s internal model of the world
(e.g., What will happen in the future if I do X?), (b) the state one believes one
is in within that model (e.g., How should I think about my current situation?),
(c) what that internal model predicts about the appropriate affective/visceral
responses in particular states (e.g., Does this state call for high or low arousal?),
and (d) the state and action values that directly govern decision-making and be-
havior (e.g., automatic action tendencies due to previously observed positive/
negative outcomes). Action and state value memories do not correspond clearly
to the memory categories within the IMM but can be understood as medi-
ating stable habits, other action tendencies, and decision-making tendencies
(note: they are also linked to brain systems/structures, such as the dopaminergic
midbrain and basal ganglia, that were not highly emphasized in the IMM; Frank,
2011). This illustrates a range of types of memory (at a computational level of de-
scription) that successful therapeutic interventions can be understood to target,
most (but not all) of which correspond to broader elements within the IMM.
The crucial tenet of the IMM (Lane et al., 2015) that moderate levels of af-
fective arousal and re-experiencing negative emotion play an important role
in updating memories during therapy naturally dovetails with two computa-
tional explanations. These include, first, simple indicators and, second, causal
mediators of effective psychotherapeutic process. First, experience of negative
emotion may simply indicate that the semantic states recalled activate state-
action and state-value memories overlapping with real life. Both the expecta-
tions but, more important, the prediction errors (Rutledge, Skandali, Dayan, &
Dolan, 2014; Will, Rutledge, Moutoussis, & Dolan, 2017b) associated with fictive
state-transitions would map to such emotions. The same could also be expressed
in terms of expected free energy (Joffily & Coricelli, 2013). As a psychodynamic
example, a patient feels awful because they expect the therapist to be an awful
transference figure. The therapists' behavior doesn't just reassure them about this
but also teaches that these feelings/expectations are faceable, thinkable, and, ulti-
mately, learnable, corresponding to an upgrading of the epistemic value of being
in such states.
The causal mediation hypothesis is even more interesting. Here, negative
emotion tunes precision estimates to facilitate belief updating (Clark, Watson,
& Friston, 2018; Joffily & Coricelli, 2013). Feeling negative emotion corresponds
to body states involving increasing prediction errors (i.e., an increase in expected
undesirable surprises; free energy). Negative valence therefore signals that
something is wrong with one’s current internal model of the world, leading to a
A Computational Neuroscience Perspective 423
reduced probability of keeping the body in states conducive to survival and fit-
ness. Positive valence instead signals that the predictions of one’s current internal
model of the world are reliable. When one’s current model is inaccurate, the op-
timal strategy is to amplify the influence of new sensory input on belief updating
and to reduce the influence of current model priors—as this would be the most
efficient way to correct one’s current model. This corresponds to increasing pre-
cision estimates on new sensory input and decreasing precision estimates on
predictions emanating from higher levels. The upshot is that the influence of new
experience on model updating (revising expectations) will be stronger when
feeling negative emotion. This is consistent with a body of work showing that
people in a sad mood process information more carefully and attend more to de-
tail (Bless, Bohner, Schwarz, & Strack, 1990; Bodenhausen, Sheppard, & Kramer,
1994; Gasper & Clore, 2002; Krauth-Gruber & Ric, 2000; Zarinpoush, Cooper, &
Moylan, 2000), whereas people in a happy mood tend to rely more on heuristics
and prior expectations (e.g., filling in details from stereotypes, schemas, scripts;
Bless et al., 1996; Bodenhausen, Kramer, & Süsser, 1994; Park & Banaji, 2000),
and that these phenomena may relate to differences in uncertainty (Tiedens &
Linton, 2001).
According to this converging theoretical and empirical work, while a client
experiences negative emotion in therapy, their reliance on prior expectation will
be reduced. Thus, the parameters (memories) in their internal model will be
more malleable, and new experience will have a stronger influence on revising
beliefs and expectations. In contrast, without feeling negative emotion, the thera-
peutic interaction would be less efficient at altering an individual’s beliefs, expec-
tations, schemas, action tendencies, and so forth. It follows that the expectation
violations experienced in therapy will more effectively alter the network archi-
tecture depicted in Figures 15.2 and 15.3 when a person re-experiences nega-
tive emotion. This is an important alternative to the “catharsis” hypothesis that
getting negative affect “out” is curative; rather, it is useful in part because it sets
the stage for more efficient learning and less reliance on maladaptive schemas
when corrective emotional experiences occur. At the same time, much more
work is needed to understand the evolution of emotions in successful therapy, as
the states of useful negative emotion in fact contain complex mixes rather than a
single good–bad dimension, including positive feelings of strong therapeutic al-
liance and positive prediction errors associated with successful reconsolidation
of more adaptive knowledge.
The role of episodic memory, important in the IMM, also needs addressing.
Our consideration of computational models so far has not highlighted any
internal model parameters directly relevant to episodic memory. So where
does episodic memory fit in? According to the IMM, episodic memory is not
a separate entity, but largely co-activated and co-modified with other types
424 Integrative Perspectives
and interacting with the world in a variety of contexts, can be seen as contrib-
uting to the updating of these stored action values so that more adaptive beha-
vior becomes more automatic.
Conclusions
This chapter has outlined a number of ways in which the IMM, and the associated
model of therapeutic change (dubbed the “Lane, Ryan, Nadel, and Greenberg” or
“LRNG” model; Lane et al., 2015), can be complemented by a description at the
unique level associated with computational neuroscience. Some major points in-
clude the following:
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