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Secdocument 5659
YO C HA I ATA R IA
Tel-Hai College, Israel
SHO G O TA NA KA
Tokai University, Japan
SHAU N G A L L AG H E R
University of Memphis, USA, and University of Wollongong, Australia
1
3
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DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780198851721.001.0001
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Contents
Acknowledgement vii
About the Editors ix
Contributors xi
Introduction xiii
PA RT I : T H E O R E T IC A L C L A R I F IC AT IO N :
B O DY S C H E M A A N D B O DY I M AG E
1. What is the body schema? 3
Frédérique de Vignemont, Victor Pitron, and Adrian J. T. Alsmith
2. The space of the body schema: putting the schema in movement 18
David Morris
3. Body schema dynamics in Merleau-Ponty 33
Jan Halák
4. A radical phenomenology of the body: subjectivity and sensations
in body image and body schema 52
Helena De Preester
5. Body schema and body image in motor learning: refining
Merleau-Ponty’s notion of body schema 69
Shogo Tanaka
6. Reimagining the body image 85
Shaun Gallagher
7. The body in the German neurology of the early twentieth century 99
Andreas Kalckert
PA RT I I : B R A I N , B O DY, A N D SE L F
8. Plasticity and tool use in the body schema 117
Daniele Romano and Angelo Maravita
9. Triadic body representations in the human cerebral cortex and
peripheral nerves 133
Noriaki Kanayama and Kentaro Hiromitsu
10. Body models in humans, animals, and robots: mechanisms and plasticity 152
Matej Hoffmann
vi Contents
11. From implicit to explicit body awareness in the first two years of life 181
Philippe Rochat and Sara Valencia Botto
12. Cross-referenced body and action for the unified self: empirical,
developmental, and clinical perspectives 194
Shu Imaizumi, Tomohisa Asai, and Michiko Miyazaki
13. Growing up a self: on the relation between body image and
the experience of the interoceptive body 210
Rosie Drysdale and Manos Tsakiris
PA RT I I I : D I S O R D E R S , A N OM A L I E S , A N D T H E R A P I E S
14. The embodied and social self: insights on body image and body
schema from neurological conditions 229
Jonathan Cole
15. Unilateral body neglect: schemas versus images? 244
Laurence Havé, Anne-Emmanuelle Priot, Laure Pisella, Gilles Rode,
and Yves Rossetti
16. Neural underpinnings of body image and body schema disturbances 267
Jasmine Ho and Bigna Lenggenhager
17. Body schema and body image disturbances in individuals
with multiple sclerosis 285
Britt Normann
18. Body schema and pain 301
Katsunori Miyahara
19. Feeling of a presence and anomalous body perception 316
Masayuki Hara, Olaf Blanke, and Noriaki Kanayama
20. The body image–body schema/ownership–agency model
for pathologies: four case studies 328
Aviya Ben David and Yochai Ataria
Index 349
Acknowledgement
We thank Noam Tiran for his help with this volume’s preparation.
About the Editors
Shaun Gallagher is the Lillian and Morrie Moss Professor of Excellence in Philosophy
at the University of Memphis, USA, and Professorial Fellow at the School of Liberal
Arts, University of Wollongong, Australia. He was a Humboldt Foundation Anneliese
Maier Research Fellow (2012–18). His publications include: Action and Interaction
(2020); Enactivist Interventions: Rethinking the Mind (2017); The Neurophenomenology
of Awe and Wonder (2015); Phenomenology (2012); The Phenomenological Mind (with
Dan Zahavi, 2012); and How the Body Shapes the Mind (2005). He is also editor-in-chief
of the journal Phenomenology and the Cognitive Sciences.
Contributors
According to the famous saying, ‘We feel well as long as we do not feel our body’. Indeed,
under normal circumstances, we largely forget our body. As long as we continue to
function smoothly in the world, our body remains in the background. By contrast,
stress, stares, injuries, disabilities, certain cultural prejudices, and the like can shift the
body into the foreground.
Not only do we forget our bodies in our everyday existence, but philosophers seem
to have ignored the question of the body for too long. Even today, philosophical dis-
cussions of the body often approach it as a thing to be examined from a scientific
viewpoint—the body-as-object rather than the body-as-subject.
There remain many outstanding questions concerning the nature and the history of
the body. However, today, in the age of neuroscience, one of the most pressing ques-
tions seems to concern whether the body is in the brain, that is, can all bodily processes
relating to perceptual and motoric functions be reduced to neuronal representations?
A neuroscientific explanation of phantom limbs appears to suggest that our body
can be reduced to maps in the brain or that the body, as we experience it, is itself a
phantom produced by neural processes. Philosophers from Descartes (1637/1996)
to Dennett (1991) have considered matrix-like scenarios involving an illusory body
generated by an evil demon or a brain in a vat. Yet if we accept the notion that the
body can be reduced to the homunculus, and the world is nothing more than a rep-
resentation in our brain, how can we know for sure that we are not dreaming at this
very moment?
If the phantom limb phenomenon forces us to ask whether our body can be re-
duced to neural maps in our brain, various psychopathologies, such as anorexia and
body dysmorphic disorder, remind us that the body (which, of course, includes the
brain) is never divorced from social contexts—from the very outset, we are thrown
into a shared world. Essentially, not only is the image of our body shaped by social
context, but rather, it has also been demonstrated that the body-schematic sensori-
motor loop is shaped by social context (Durt, Tewes, & Fuchs, 2017). Indeed our
body is the target of a gaze or the subject of others’ judgement as well as our own
(Merleau-Ponty, 2012, p. 170):
Man does not ordinarily show his body, and, when he does, it is either nervously or
with the intention to fascinate. It seems to him that the alien gaze that glances over
his body steals it from him or, on the contrary, that the exhibition of his body will
Yochai Ataria, Shogo Tanaka, and Shaun Gallagher, Introduction In: Body Schema and Body Image. Edited by: Yochai Ataria, Shogo Tanaka,
and Shaun Gallagher, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2021. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780198851721.001.0001
xiv Introduction
disarm and deliver the other person over to him, and in this case the other person
will be reduced to slavery. Thus, modesty and immodesty take place in a dialectic of
self and other that is the dialectic of master and slave. Insofar as I have a body, I can
be reduced to an object beneath the gaze of another person and no longer count
for him as a person. Or again, to the contrary, I can become his master and gaze
upon him in turn. But this mastery is a dead end, since, at the moment my value is
recognized by the other’s desire, the other person is no longer the person by whom
I wanted to be recognized: he is now a fascinated being, without freedom, and who
as such no longer counts for me. To say that I have a body is thus a way of saying that
I can be seen as an object and that I seek to be seen as a subject, that another person
can be my master or my slave, such that modesty and immodesty express the dia-
lectic of the plurality of consciousnesses and that they in fact have a metaphysical
signification.
Our bodies can be objects of desire, shame, or even disgust. Yet we are objectified
not only by others, but also by ourselves; indeed, as the popularity of plastic surgery
indicates, many of us are never really satisfied with our bodies. The body is the locus of
the drama.
Frantz Fanon, a black psychiatrist and philosopher raised in the French colony of
Martinique and the author of Black Skin, White Masks (2008), adds a critical perspec-
tive when depicting his experience as a black man among whites. Fanon’s description
allows us to understand how the other’s gaze in a racist social world permeates our
bodily experience, in particular the idea that social distortions can impinge on the body
schema (p. 83):
And then the occasion arose when I had to meet the white man’s eyes. An unfamiliar
weight burdened me. The real world challenged my claims. In the white world
the man of color encounters difficulties in the development of his bodily schema.
Consciousness of the body is solely a negating activity. It is a third person conscious-
ness. The body is surrounded by an atmosphere of certain uncertainty. I know that
if I want to smoke, I shall have to reach out my right arm and take the pack of cig-
arettes lying at the other end of the table. The matches, however, are in the drawer
on the left, and I shall have to lean back slightly. And all these movements are made
not out of habit but out of implicit knowledge. A slow composition of my self as a
body in the middle of a spatial and temporal world—such seems to be the schema.
It does not impose itself on me; it is, rather, a definitive structuring of the self and
of the world—definitive because it creates a real dialectic between my body and the
world . . .
While reading Fanon’s description, it becomes clear that the question of the body
cannot be examined independently of our situatedness in the world and our most basic
sense of subjectivity. Merleau-Ponty also highlights this close link between worldly
situation and the body (2012, p. 431).
Introduction xv
If the subject is in a situation, or even if the subject is nothing other than a possibility
of situations, this is because he only achieves his ipseity by actually being a body and
by entering into the world through this body. If I find, while reflecting upon the es-
sence of the body, that it is tied to the essence of the world, this is because my existence
as subjectivity is identical with my existence as a body and with the existence of the
world, and because, ultimately, the subject that I am, understood concretely, is insep-
arable from this particular body and from this particular world. The ontological world
and body that we uncover at the core of the subject are not the world and the body as
ideas; rather, they are the world itself condensed into a comprehensive hold and the
body itself as a knowing-body.
Cases of deafferentation
[I]f he [IW] is denied access to a visual awareness of his body’s position in the percep-
tual field, or denied the ability to think about his body, then, without the framework
of the body image, the virtual body schema ceases to function—it cannot stand on its
own . . . IW has substituted a virtual body schema—a set of cognitively driven motor
processes. This virtual schema seems to function only within the framework of a body
image that is consciously and continually maintained.
Frédérique de Vignemont (2018) believes that one of the most important questions
concerning deafferentation is ‘whether more than thirty years later bodily control
still requires the same effort’ (p. 148). Considering the case of Ginette Lizotte (GL),
de Vignemont suggests an alternative explanation for this relative success with regard
to movement among deafferented subjects ‘[who] can move in a relatively impressive
manner’. Given this observation, she asks: ‘But in what sense is the body schema de-
fective in these patients?’ de Vignemont argues that the body schema ‘is at least partially
preserved in deafferentation’ (p. 147). In order to support this notion, she re-examines
the role that vision plays in body-schematic processes: ‘The role of vision for the body
schema is thus not unusual . . . it is merely more drastically important in the case of
deafferented patients [who] . . . consciously exploit their body schema, as in conscious
motor imagery.’ Furthermore, she argues that ‘although based on different weighting of
information’, the body schema of deafferented patients relies ‘more on vision than be-
fore, but for all that, it is not “missing” ’ (p. 149).
Gallagher (2005) also explores the role of vision in body-schematic processes: ‘Visual
sense is also a source of information vital to posture and movement.’ Thus, visual pro-
prioception and visual kinaesthesis ‘are more directly related to the body schema and
involve the tacit processing of visual information about the body’s movement in rela-
tion to the environment’. To be clearer, what we see in our daily life ‘automatically gets
translated into a proprioceptive sense of how to move’. This notion echoes Merleau-
Ponty’s ideas (1968, p. 134):
xviii Introduction
every vision takes place somewhere in the tactile space. There is double and crossed
situating of the visible in the tangible and of the tangible in the visible; the two maps
are complete, and yet they do not merge into one. The two parts are total parts and yet
are not superposable.
Gallagher (2005) further stresses that although visual perception of the environ-
ment is important for body-schematic processes, in daily life, the ‘direct visual per-
ception of one’s own body . . . does not play a major role in motor and postural control’,
and yet, ‘for IW it is the primary source of information about his body’ (p. 45). Indeed,
IW ‘depends heavily on visual perception of his limbs and visual proprioception in
order to control his movement’. He also argues that although usually there is ‘inter-
modal communication between proprioception and vision’, vision is nevertheless ‘not
designed to take the place of somatic proprioception’. Essentially, in the case of IW,
this intermodal communication is seriously disturbed. Gallagher (2005) concludes
by saying that in IW’s case, some realignment toward visual and cognitive control of
movement has taken place.1
de Vignemont (2018) stresses that while spending time with GL she almost ‘forgot
that there was anything abnormal besides her wheelchair . . . She could cut her meat
while having a normal discussion at lunch and even gesture with her knife and fork
like everybody else, or so it seemed’.2 Note, however, that unlike GL, IW can walk.
In that sense, GL’s situation is more similar to IW’s experience while driving, which
he appears to find easier than walking: ‘The car seems to be an extension of the body
schema’ (Gallagher & Cole, 1995, p. 386). Essentially, while driving, IW does not need
to control his full body with his vision. Likewise, his hands are always in sight. As a re-
sult the observer can develop a feeling that IW is driving on ‘automatic pilot’. However,
IW himself testifies that while driving he needs to think about how he holds the wheel
and how much force he must invest in order to move the wheel one way or the other
(and so on).
This ambiguity concerning the role of vision for body schema in deafferented
subjects may reflect a long-standing confusion concerning body schema and body
image. Gallagher stresses that the concepts of body image and body schema have been
unclear from the very outset. Likewise, de Vignemont (2018) believes that ‘there is a
lack of precise understanding of the functional role of the body schema as opposed to
the body image and without clear definitional criteria . . . they cannot play any explana-
tory role’. This lack of clarity and precision has motivated occasional calls to abandon
the concepts. Perhaps, as de Vignemont herself suggests, ‘we should simply decide that
1 Indeed, some experimental evidence suggests that IW’s use of vision for motor control activates the ventral
visual pathway in the brain (the visual stream that underpins object recognition) rather than the dorsal visual
pathway that typically serves the motor system (Athwal et al., 1999).
2 It has been suggested (Cole, 2016; Forget & Lamarre, 1987) that GL is ataxic, meaning that she cannot drink
from a cup normally; she chews her food by counting because she cannot feel much of her mouth; she cannot put
her hand into a pocket or bring her hand to her mouth easily.
Introduction xix
we are better off without them’ (p. 152). Others concur, from Conrad in his 1933 book
(Das Körperschema. Eine kritische Studie und der Versuch einer Revision) to Berlucchi
and Aglioti (2010) more recently. With this in mind, let us investigate the source of this
confusion.
Throughout the twentieth century, pivotal scholars regarded Head and Holmes’ (1911)
paper as definitive in the study of body schema and body image. Given the important
role of this study, some clarifications are necessary:
(1) Head and Holmes introduced the concept of body schema to explain the cog-
nitive and somatosensory deficits of patients with cerebral lesions. They con-
sidered body schema an implicit frame for the entire body, referred to when
recognizing the present posture or locating body parts.
(2) Head and Holmes argue that ‘postural recognition is not constantly in the cen-
tral field of attention’. Thus, they suggest that ‘every recognizable change enters
into consciousness already charged with its relation to something that has gone
before, just as on a taximeter the distance is presented to us already transformed
into shillings and pence’ (pp. 186–187). Basically, body schema is an implicit
function underpinning our postural and motor control, and it rarely comes to
our conscious attention.
(3) Head and Holmes claim that ‘image, whether it be visual or motor, is not the
fundamental standard against which all postural changes are measured’ (p. 187).
Thus, visual images of the body are distinguished from body schema.
Many philosophers and neuroscientists have relied heavily on Jacques Paillard’s in-
terpretation of Head and Holmes’ study (Paillard, 2005, p. 103; citing Head & Holmes
1911,3 p. 212):
Reading Paillard’s citation carefully, it is important to note that Head and Holmes
(1911) never use the term ‘body image’ per se; likewise, they employ the concept of
representation only in reference to the image: ‘The assumption of an imagined posture
Merleau-Ponty’s use of the term le schéma corporel introduces both historical and con-
ceptual difficulties. Merleau-Ponty specifically rejects the interpretation of le schéma
corporel as a representation or image . . . Rather than following Schilder by writing
image in French—or rather than adopting Lhermitte’s phrase l’image de notre corps
(‘the image of our body’)—Merleau-Ponty maintains schéma.
Having understood the root of this confusion, let us examine the concept of double
dissociation between body schema and body image more thoroughly.
Introduction xxi
Double dissociation
Based on an analysis of various pathological cases, both Paillard (1999) and Gallagher
(2005) discern a double dissociation between body image on the one hand and body
schema on the other: ‘It is possible . . . to find cases in which a subject has an intact
body image but a dysfunctional body schema, and vice versa’ (Gallagher 2005, p. 24).
For example, in some cases of unilateral personal neglect, a neuropsychological con-
dition involving a deficit in attention to, and awareness of, one side of the body fol-
lowing damage to the contralateral cortex, we can detect evidence of an intact body
schema (including controlled movement) together with the impairment of body
image for the neglected side. In one such case, the patient pays no attention to the left
side of her body and fails to dress that side, although there is no motor weakness on
that side; for instance, she uses her left hand to dress her right side (Denny-Brown,
Meyer, & Horenstein, 1952). As we saw in the case of IW, other examples indicate the
opposite, that is, body schema deficit with an intact body image.
de Vignemont (2018) raises some doubts regarding the existence of a clear-cut
double dissociation between body schema and body image. For instance, while the case
of unilateral neglect is referenced to show the presence of body schema and the absence
of body image, patients suffering from unilateral neglect are able to attend to the right
side of their body. According to de Vignemont, this indicates that the body image is not
completely absent, even if there is a deficit. Based on these observations, she argues that
double dissociation in a strict sense does not exist: ‘Most bodily disorders do not lead to
straightforward diagnosis in terms of either body image deficit or body schema deficit.
These deficits of body schema and body image are often intermingled and clear cases
of specific disruptions rarely found’ (p. 150; for further debate, see Havé, Priot, Pisella,
Rode, & Rossetti, Chapter 15).
Keeping this in mind, Gallagher (Chapter 6) stresses that we need to distinguish be-
tween conceptual ambiguity on the one hand and ambiguity in the phenomena them-
selves on the other; ambiguity at the level of the phenomena is not an argument against
the existence of dissociation between body schema and body image.
In a wider context, it seems that from the very outset, this ambiguity concerns the na-
ture of the relationship between the perceived body and the acting body, in particular
how these perspectives are interrelated in action. When we act in a habitual manner, we
often do so without explicitly perceiving our own bodies, whereas we may need to ex-
plicitly focus on our bodies when asked to execute a novel action.
The same kind of tension can be found between the body-as-subject and the body-
as-object. Rather than avoiding it, Merleau-Ponty (1964, p. 162) encourages us to main-
tain what seems to be a structural ambiguity:
The enigma is that my body simultaneously sees and is seen. That which looks at all
things can also look at itself and recognize, in what it sees, the ‘other side’ of its power
xxii Introduction
of looking. It sees itself seeing; it touches itself touching; it is visible and sensitive for
itself.
This volume is divided into three parts. The first, ‘Theoretical clarification: body schema
and body image’, defines these concepts and explores the possible relations between
these systems. The second part, ‘Brain, body, and self ’, attempts to understand how the
body is represented in the brain and how this representation is developed into a sense
of self. The third part, ‘Disorders, anomalies, and therapies’, explores the role of body
schema and body image in different kinds of pathologies from phenomenological, cog-
nitive, and neural perspectives.
The book opens with a chapter by Frédérique de Vignemont, Victor Pitron, and
Adrian Alsmith, ‘What is the body schema?’ According to the authors, the body schema
can be defined as a representation of the body for action. However, they ask: what does
this statement really mean? Namely, what is the uniqeness of the body schema? Is it the
type of information that it represents, or perhaps the function of the representation? In
the second chapter ‘The space of the body schema’, David Morris focuses on the body
schema as well, albeit adopting a non-representational approach. Given their repre-
sentational approach, a fundamental problem encountered by de Vignemont, Pitron,
and Alsmith concerns what seems to be our close interaction with the world in our
everyday life, the sense of affordances, situatedness, and moods. While the orthodox
neurocognitive approach to body representation leaves the world too far away, for
Morris, this does not constitute a problem because he regards body schema itself as of
space. Note that the role which Morris’ theoretical approach accords to body schema
leaves little room for body image.
In the third chapter ‘Body schema dynamics in Merleau-Ponty’, Jan Halák explores
the interaction between body schema and body image, drawing on the notes made by
Merleau-Ponty (2011) for his 1953 lectures known as The Sensible World and the World
of Expression. Halák describes the relations between the two in terms of figure (body
image) and ground (body schema). Like Morris, Halák also supports a strong em-
bodied non-representational approach; yet he nevertheless leaves a place in his theory
Introduction xxiii
for the body image. Note that both Morris and Halák reject the concept of body image–
body schema double dissociation.
Interestingly, de Vignemont, Pitron, and Alsmith, on the one hand, and Halák
and Morris, on the other, would agree that body schema should be treated in terms
of affordances. Yet, whereas the former adopt a strong representational approach, the
latter argue that according to Merleau-Ponty, there is no need for representations,
seemingly making many of the problems dealt with by de Vignemont, Pitron, and
Alsmith non-issues. For instance, while de Vignemont, Pitron, and Alsmith focus on
local representations of body parts, Merleau-Ponty considers the body a holistic system
from the outset. Note, however, that if we choose to adopt the holistic approach, we may
find it difficult to explain the strong link between localized brain damage and the dys-
function of body parts, and more generally different kinds of neuropathologies. Clearly
the approach advanced by de Vignemont, Pitron, and Alsmith facilitates this sort of
explanation.
In the fourth chapter ‘A radical phenomenology of the body’, Helena De Preester
recognizes these problems and seeks to develop a theory that considers the strengths
and weaknesses of both sides, that is, combining the body-in-the-brain approach with
the body-in-the-world approach. To do so, she embraces Michel Henry’s radical phe-
nomenology of the body. De Preester confronts what seems to be one of the most chal-
lenging problems faced by the representational approach—explaining the unity of
the moving body. As we saw, de Vignemont, Pitron, and Alsmith are fully aware that
embracing their own approach raises the following question: How does one experience
and act with one’s body as an integrated whole rather than a collection of parts? De Preester
tries to avoid this problem. She argues that the definition of body schema offered by
Gallagher and Cole (1995) fails to solve this puzzle, and that as long as the body schema
remains embedded in proprioception, the problem of the unity of the moving body re-
mains unsolved. From this perspective, the Merleau-Pontyian approach, as presented
by both Morris and Halák, is not sufficiently radical. By divorcing proprioception from
body schema, Henry’s work allows her to confront this issue. According to Henry, body
schema is responsible for unity of the transcendent body. The origin of this unity lies in
the subjective body, which, in turn, is characterized by movement in the sense of ori-
ginal, immediate knowledge of movement. De Preester tries to bridge between Henry’s
radical phenomenology of the body and current cognitive sciences by suggesting that,
at least to some extent, we can think about the subjective body in terms of offline long-
term body representations.
In the fifth chapter ‘Body schema and body image in motor learning’, Shogo Tanaka
endeavours to provide a detailed account of the nature of relations between body
schema and body image and to take the body schema–body image distinction a step fur-
ther. Tanaka argues that motor learning demands a close dialogue between body image
and body schema. Indeed, although the authors of the previous chapters in this volume
ascribe to opposing philosophical approaches (body-in-the-brain versus body-in-the-
world), they share a belief in the primacy of body schema over body image. Thus, they
all agree that compared with the body schema body image plays a minor role in our
xxiv Introduction
daily lives. Merleau-Ponty seems to support this approach: ‘Ordinary experience shows
that, in imitating others, in learning to walk, in becoming familiar with an environment,
what occurs cannot be explained by the notion that there is first an intellectual act of
“knowing” rules, maps, or words and then a move to use them’ (1964, p. 96). Bearing
this in mind, Tanaka suggests that body image nonetheless plays a fundamental role in
most processes of motor learning; hence, any theory that seeks to explain what it is like
to be-in-the-world should provide a detailed account of how body image is involved in
our everyday activities.
In the sixth chapter ‘Reimagining the body image’, Gallagher accepts the co-
construction model (Pitron & de Vignemont, 2017), which posits a functional dis-
tinction, yet strong interaction, between body schema and body image. Indeed, if one
replaces the word ‘representation’ in the following sentence with ‘systems’, it seems that
de Vignemont, Pitron, and Alsmith would agree to some extent with Gallagher: ‘The
two types of body representations [systems] are thus functionally distinct, but their con-
struction is partly based on their interactions, which allow them to minimize discrep-
ancies between them as much as possible.’ In his chapter, Gallagher tries to respond to
several objections that have been voiced against the body image–body schema distinc-
tion over the years. The main objection is as follows: ‘We should not take body schema
and body image to be disconnected systems, even if they are distinguishable.’ Indeed,
by reading the different chapters in the first part of this volume, it is difficult to find any
theoretical support for a strict or absolute double dissociation approach. Gallagher ad-
mits that he relies heavily on rare cases such as IW, yet he believes that: (a) the fact that
IW’s case is rare is not an argument against the body image–body schema double dis-
sociation; and (b) even if we accept that the figure-ground concepts describe the body
image–body schema dialogue quite accurately in our everyday life, this does not under-
mine the possibility of double dissociation.
Reading the first part of this volume, the following question arises: Does the cur-
rent debate derive from our inability to define body schema and body image properly?
Accordingly, it is appropriate to close the first part with a historical perspective on the
current debate. In his chapter ‘The body in the German neurology of the early twen-
tieth century’, Andreas Kalckert examines the history of German neurology in the
early twentieth century, demonstrating that from the very outset, the concepts of body
schema and body image were not well defined. Kalckert closes his chapter with the
following observation: ‘Fortunately or unfortunately, these discussions resemble strik-
ingly the discussions we have today. We face unclear definitions, different interpret-
ations, now and a hundred years ago’ (Chapter 7, p. 112).
In the second part, ‘Brain, body, and self ’, we consider both body schema and
body image from the perspectives of related research fields, such as cognitive neuro-
science, experimental psychology, developmental science, phenomenology, and ro-
botics. Tool use is clearly one of the most important issues for our understanding of
body schema. Therefore, it is natural to open the second part of this volume with a
chapter by Daniele Romano and Angelo Maravita concerning the question of ‘Plasticity
and tool use in the body schema’. Romano and Maravita explore the process via which
Introduction xxv
tools become embodied. In general, when we learn to use a new tool, we develop a
new way of interacting with the surrounding space. This malleable relationship be-
tween our body and the surrounding environment is reflected in the plastic nature of
our brain. Within our brain, changes related to tool use are not limited to spatial pro-
cessing but are also linked to sensory-motor information processing which in turn has
the potential to transform how we are embedded within the environment. Romano and
Maravita’s findings seem to fit perfectly with how Merleau-Ponty (1964, p. 178) regards
body schema: ‘Our organs are no longer instruments; on the contrary, our instruments
are detachable organs.’ Indeed, our body lives as a system of knowing-how within the
surrounding space and its sensory-motor capacity and flexibly extend into this space
through tool use. Thus, body schema is itself of space.
In the second chapter ‘Triadic body representations in the human cerebral cortex and
peripheral nerves’, Noriaki Kanayama and Kentaro Hiromitsu explore how both body
schema and body image are represented in the brain. They reconsider how the entire
neural system, including peripheral nerves, constitutes body representation. Drawing
on Schwoebel and Coslett (2005), they reject the traditional dyadic taxonomy of body
schema and body image. Instead, they present a triadic taxonomy of body schema
(sensory-motor representation of the body), body structural description (topological
representation of body parts and whole), and body semantics (lexical meanings of body
parts). Kanayama and Hiromitsu further propose that the neural basis of the new tri-
adic taxonomy lies in three information streams in the visual cortical areas: the ven-
tral stream corresponding to body semantics, the ventro-dorsal stream corresponding
to body structural description, and the dorso-dorsal stream corresponding to body
schema. Their proposal preserves the concept of traditional body schema, but the con-
cept of body image is now categorized into the topological-perceptual aspect and the
lexical-conceptual aspect. Here we notice that their proposal partially corresponds to
the taxonomy of the body image originally presented by Gallagher (2005), that is, body
percept, body affect, and body concept. Kanayama and Hiromitsu’s recategorization of
body image seems to focus on the difference between body percept and body concept.
Concerning the taxonomy of body representations, Matej Hoffmann tackles the
problem in a comprehensive manner from the perspective of robotics. In his chapter
‘Body models in humans, animals, and robots’, Hoffmann asks: How is the physical body
represented in animals, humans, and robots in terms of information processing? He pro-
poses to classify body representations by locating them on axes such as fixed versus
plastic; amodal versus modal; explicit versus implicit; centralized versus distributed;
and so on. Hoffmann argues that the human body is more centrally controlled in terms
of movement than invertebrates, such as the octopus, which have greater freedom in
peripheral movements. However, the same condition alters the human capacity for
conscious and dexterous manipulation of objects in a detailed manner, as is evident in
tool use. Although Hoffmann focuses on the fixed and amodal nature of body models
in robots, by contrast, this shows the plasticity and multimodality of human body rep-
resentations in the organic brain. According to Hoffmann, it is possible to say that hu-
mans inevitably represent the body in the brain, that is, the central nervous system
xxvi Introduction
that controls peripheral movements, but at the same time, this enables humans to con-
duct explicit and well-controlled bodily interactions with the environment. Within
neurological-anatomical conditions of the human body, we find the origin that consti-
tutes both body schema and body image. On the one hand, we obtain the capacity for
well-controlled dexterous actions toward the environment, and on the other hand, we
also gain the capacity to consciously experience our own body by perceiving it expli-
citly. Curiously, even in a purely representational approach, the body must be as both
subject and object: ‘The body catches itself from the outside in the process of exercising
a knowledge function; it attempts to touch itself touching, it begins “a sort of reflec-
tion” ’ (Merleau-Ponty, 2012, p. 95).
The human capacity to experience the body in an explicit manner initiates the possi-
bility of being as a self. In the fourth chapter ‘From implicit to explicit body awareness
in the first two years of life’, Philippe Rochat and Sara Valencia Botto explore the de-
velopmental trajectory between body schema and body image. Rochat and Botto dis-
cern the crucial difference between body schema and body image in the implicit versus
explicit axes of body awareness, attempting to find a developmental process from the
former to the latter. Unlike the previous two chapters, Rochat and Botto emphasize
the importance of the social environments in which infants manifest primordial self-
consciousness through social emotions such as embarrassment, shame, and pride. In
the developmental contours, we first develop our embodied interactions with the sur-
rounding environment as manifestations of body schema, underpinning an implicit
body awareness separate from the outer environment. Subsequently, internalizing the
other’s evaluative gaze through embodied, as well as social, interactions, we become
conscious of our own body as body image, which can be defined as a primitive sense of
self. Note that according to their view, our sense of self is social from the very beginning.
In contrast to this emphasis on the social, in the fifth chapter ‘Cross-referenced body
and action for the unified self ’, Shu Imaizumi, Tomohisa Asai, and Michiko Miyazaki
explore the origin of the sense of self within an individual’s bodily experiences.
According to their own experiments using the paradigm of the rubber hand illusion,
they depict a cross-referential relation between ownership and agency—the sense of
ownership of a fake hand induces movement of a real hand, and the movement of a
fake hand is accompanied by the sense of ownership. They further explore the idea that
the ownership–agency interaction underpins self-representation in cases of infants and
adults who have undergone limb amputation. The former develop a sense of self by
matching the proprioceptively perceived body and the visually perceived body, whereas
the latter experience the loss and restoration of bodily self-representation through the
use of prostheses.
Whereas Imaizumi, Asai, and Miyazaki emphasize the role of movement in inte-
grating multimodal representations of the body, in the last chapter in Part II ‘Growing
up a self ’, Rosie Drysdale and Manos Tsakiris attempt to shed light on the sense of self
in its relation to interoceptive, as well as exteroceptive, body awareness. Although the
sensory interplay between interoception and exteroception is not yet fully understood,
by collecting scarce evidence in developmental science, they present a framework
Introduction xxvii
according to which we develop the sense of self from the inside-out. Drysdale and
Tsakiris discern the social origins of interoceptive sensitivity, arguing that ‘a mother’s
physiological regulation during pregnancy is consequential for the foetus and its sur-
vival’ (Chapter 13, p. 218). As we saw, Rochat and Botto emphasize the social origin
of the sense of self, yet it seems that the sense of self in this case means explicit self-
consciousness. In contrast, Imaizumi, Asai, and Miyazaki explore the sense of self that
is basically implicit and constituted by the senses of agency and body ownership, which,
in their view, are not necessarily social. Drysdale and Tsakiris further trace our sense
of self to the fundamental interoceptive sensitivity, for which they find social origins.
If so, they argue, then even in the process of forming the minimal and implicit sense of
self, the infant’s embodied social interactions with the caregiver are foundational. Their
view suggests two things: (a) we need to explicate the problem of self not only in terms
of body image, but also in terms of body schema; and (b) the sociality of body schema
and the minimal sense of self should be further examined in future research.
The third part ‘Disorders, anomalies, and therapies’ begins with Jonathan Cole’s
chapter ‘The embodied and social self ’. Cole returns to IW’s case, demonstrating: (a)
how conscious control at the body image level may only partially replace the deaffer-
ented body schema; and (b) in what sense body schema and body image can be con-
sidered, at least conceptually, two different systems. Cole develops these notions further
for the social sphere, arguing that others’ responses to one’s body are crucial in devel-
oping our body image and sense of self.
In the second chapter ‘Unilateral body neglect’, Yves Rossetti and Laurence Havé
demonstrate that body image disorders in neglect are not always accompanied by body
schema disorders. They argue that even if a clear definition of these two concepts can be
articulated, the clinical reality is far more complex, both (a) in terms of the existence of
a continuum between these two extremities of bodily manifestations of unilateral neg-
lect, and (b) in terms of the dialectic relationship between the two systems. In the third
chapter ‘Neural underpinnings of body image and body schema disturbances’, Jasmine
Ho and Bigna Lenggenhager continue this line of thought. Based on neural alterations
in various body-related brain regions, they suggest that body schema and body image
are mutually dependent; hence it is problematic to make a clear categorization of most
disorders in terms of body schema and body image. It seems that both Rossetti and
Havé, as well as Ho and Lenggenhager, argue against the notion of double dissociation
between body schema and body image. To be more accurate, they accept the concep-
tual distinction and, to some extent, agree that body schema and body image can be
traced to neuronal mechanisms, yet they reject Paillard’s strong dichotomic approach
to body schema and body image.
The current debate should not, however, prevent us from discerning that the con-
cepts of body schema and body image can be useful in various applications. Indeed, in
her chapter ‘Body schema and body image disturbances in individuals with multiple
sclerosis’, Britt Normann shows that the concepts of body schema and body image can
deepen our understanding of individuals suffering from multiple sclerosis. Normann
demonstrates that embracing these concepts can improve our ability to treat patients. It
xxviii Introduction
seems that Cole, Rossetti and Laurence, and Ho and Lenggenhager agree on this point
at least: the concepts of body schema and body image allow us not only to improve
our understanding of subjective experience in various conditions, including disabilities
and disorders, but also to understand these phenomena in a way that has clinical rele-
vance for both therapists and patients.
In the fifth chapter ‘Body schema and pain’, Katsunori Miyahara challenges the con-
temporary theories of pain, which are rooted, according to Miyahara, in the Cartesian
tradition. Embracing the concepts of body schema and body image, he claims, enables
us to (a) get closer to the subjective experience of pain and (b) build a more consistent
theory of pain, which is also more loyal to our subjective experience. Pain, Miyahara
maintains, should be understood in terms of affordances, knowing-how, and the
‘I-can’/‘I cannot’.
The sixth chapter ‘Feeling of a presence and anomalous body perception’, written
by Masayuki Hara, Olaf Blanke, and Noriaki Kanayama, focuses on the phenomenon
known as ‘feeling of a presence’ (FoP)—a strange sensation that another person is
nearby when, in fact, no other person is present. Hara, Blanke, and Kanayama trace
this phenomenon back to the phenomenology of Karl Jaspers regarding his notion of
leibhaftige Bewusstheit, which refers to the subjective feeling of another’s presence as
sometimes reported by patients suffering from schizophrenia. By comparing this with
other related research from the field of cognitive neuroscience, such as TMS study con-
cerning out-of-body experiences, they conclude that the temporo-parietal junction
(TPJ) plays a key role in experiencing the FoP. They argue that whereas sensing the
presence of another person when there is no one there derives from one’s own disturbed
body image, the sense of another’s agency results from a disturbed body schema.
In the last chapter of part three ‘The body image–body schema/ownership–agency
model for pathologies’, Aviya Ben David and Yochai Ataria present a model based on
the conceptual gap between body schema and body image, revealing how different
kinds of conditions, including body integrity identity disorder, schizophrenia, anor-
exia nervosa, and post-traumatic stress disorder, can be explained as part of a unified
model. This model demonstrates the explanatory power of the double dissociation be-
tween body schema and body image. More specifically, it reveals how the sensorimotor
dimension, on the one hand, and the social sphere, on the other, are at work in our
everyday lives and in cases of different disabilities.
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PART I
T HE OR ET ICA L
CL AR IF IC AT ION : B ODY S C H E M A
A N D B ODY I M AG E
1
What is the body schema?
Frédérique de Vignemont, Victor Pitron, and Adrian J. T. Alsmith
The body schema is commonly defined as the representation of a body for action
(e.g., Paillard, 1999; Dijkerman & de Haan, 2007; Gallagher, 1995; Vignemont, 2010;
Schwoebel & Coslett, 2005).1 But what do we mean exactly by that? Is it only that it
contributes to the planning and the control of bodily movements? If that is the case,
then there is actually nothing specific about this type of representation of the body.
Many states indeed can play such a causal role, including some very high-level states.
Imagine, for instance, that you want to cut a cake into six equal slices. To do so, you can
exploit your mathematical knowledge that 360 degrees divided by 6 equals 60 degrees.
This knowledge can guide your hand while splitting the cake. Your ability to do maths
can thus play a role in guiding your action, but clearly, we want the body schema to
be more intimately connected to action. The crucial question is what makes the body
schema so special. One might believe that the theories of motor control should be able
to shed light on its nature, but they generally stay remarkably silent about the body
schema. Here we shall characterize in detail its relation to action by analysing the type
of information that it represents, the way this information is represented, and the func-
tion of this representation.
Let us start with a first provisional definition of the body schema:
The body schema represents bodily parameters that are useful for action planning and
control.
1 For a detailed discussion of the notion of body representation and its many controversies, see Alsmith (2019).
In brief, we take representations to be content-bearing states of the central nervous system. We further assume
that body representations play the role of models that represent in virtue of their resemblance to the structure of
the body.
Frédérique de Vignemont, Victor Pitron, and Adrian J. T. Alsmith, What is the body schema? In: Body Schema and Body Image.
Edited by: Yochai Ataria, Shogo Tanaka, and Shaun Gallagher, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2021.
DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780198851721.003.0001
4 What is the body schema?
should stretch it. Hence, one needs knowledge about long-term structural properties
of the body, including bodily configuration, bodily size, flexibility of the joints, and
muscle strength. It is thanks to the knowledge of these structural properties that one
does not attempt to move in biologically impossible or painful ways. It is also thanks
to that knowledge that one does not over-or under-reach when trying to get an object.
Now the problem with this definition is that one can be aware of these bodily prop-
erties independently of any intention to move. Imagine that you are lying in your bed
half-asleep. You consciously experience your legs stretched on the cold sheet. Does this
postural sensation involve the body schema or not? Put it another way, does the body
schema play a role exclusively for action, or also for bodily awareness? If it has a dual
function, then one might wonder for what reason we actually give more emphasis to its
motor contribution than to its experiential contribution. Furthermore, we would not
be able to understand the fact that postural sensations do not always consciously ex-
press the way we act. In one study, for instance, after the vibration of the tendon of the
biceps, participants had the illusory experience that their arm was stretching, but when
asked to point to the position of their hand, their motor response remained immune to
the illusion and they pointed to the correct hand location, and not to the felt hand loca-
tion (Kammers et al., 2006). What this study, among others, reveals is that there are sev-
eral ways to represent bodily properties useful for action. It is thus insufficient to define
the body schema only in these terms. More is needed. One suggestion is that the body
schema encodes information about these properties in a specific format. The idea of a
format or code of mental representation is familiar in cognitive science, although there
is no consensus about what formats there are or how to individuate them. Some formats
are modality-specific—a visual format, a tactile format, and so forth. Another type of
format can be an amodal or purely conceptual. A further type of format, which is at the
core of our interest here, is the sensorimotor one. In brief, a sensorimotor content is a
content that can be directly exploited by the motor system. If we go back to our original
example of the mathematical belief, the mathematical result needs to be translated into
a different format for it to be usable to guide action. The transition to action is then in-
direct. By contrast, the motor intention to cut the cake represents the movements to
perform in sensorimotor terms and can thus be of immediate use for the motor system.
For the body schema to be in direct connection to action, it must thus be encoded in the
same format as the motor intention. We can then suggest this new definition:
The body schema represents in a sensorimotor format bodily parameters that are useful
for action planning and control.
Let us briefly elaborate on how the notion of format allows us to account for dissoci-
ations between bodily sensations and movements. The hypothesis is that there can be
distinct representations about the same properties (such as posture), but encoded in
different formats. One may, for instance, suggest that the body is encoded in three dif-
ferent codes: sensorimotor, visuo-spatial, and linguistic (Schwoebel & Coslett, 2005).
The difference between the three formats can be well illustrated if we consider body
An action-orientated representation 5
metrics. Action requires fine-grained spatial content. It thus seems a plausible hypoth-
esis that the sensorimotor content of the body schema is detailed and specific (the arm
as being 70.5 cm long, for instance—though, obviously, in whatever unit that can be ex-
ploited by the motor system). By contrast, bodily experiences do not require such high
resolution and the visuo-spatial content can be more approximate and sketchy (the arm
as being between 69 and 71 cm long, for instance). Finally, the linguistic content could
simply represent the fact that this is a relatively long arm.
One may wonder, however, if this new definition exhausts the specificities of the
body schema. In particular, in this definition, the link to action still remains rela-
tively remote insofar as the body schema remains causally inert. Its content seems to
be purely descriptive—it simply gives information about the body, for instance where
my limbs are located. Describing how the body is not the same as prescribing how the
body should be. To see the difference, compare the following two mental states. I have
a visual experience of the blue sky. My visual content can be accurate or not, depending
on whether it matches the actual colour of the sky. It is then said to have a ‘mind-to-
world direction of fit’ (Anscombe, 1957)—the content of the representation must fit
with the world to be true. Now I form the motor intention to grasp a bottle. My motor
intention issues commands to the skeletal muscles. Its directive content cannot be true
or false. Instead, it can be successful or not, depending on whether I actually grasp the
bottle. It has a ‘world-to-mind direction of fit’—the world must be made to match the
content of the representation for it to be successful. For many, it is only when its content
is directive that a representation qualifies as action-orientated because then only does
it tell us what to do (Grush, 2004; Millikan, 1995; Clark, 1998; Mandik, 2005). Now the
question is whether the content of the body schema is comparable to the visual con-
tent of the blue sky or to the motor content of the intention. If it were only descriptive,
as our earlier definition seems to imply, then the body schema would not be action-
orientated—a counterintuitive conclusion.
However, there may be a different interpretation of the body schema, according to
which it has not only a descriptive content, but also a directive content. As summarized
by Millikan (1995, p. 191):
More specifically, in the now classic control-theoretic approach to action, the motor
system uses two types of internal models: the inverse model and the forward model
(Wolpert et al., 2001). The inverse model has the role of computing the motor com-
mand needed to achieve the desired state, given the agent’s bodily postures and cap-
acities, as they are represented by the body schema. One may even say that the content
of the body schema is coercive—it heavily constrains action planning, so that one
normally cannot help but use it to guide one’s bodily movements. In short, the body
schema makes you act in a certain way. In parallel with the inverse model is run the
6 What is the body schema?
forward model, which predicts what the action will be like, given the specific body that
executes the motor command, and allows anticipatory control of movements. Here
also, we argue, the body schema has a clear directive function. It represents the desired
posture and location. For it to be satisfied, the body must meet this posture and this
location. Hence, the direction of fit is world-to-mind—the body must match its repre-
sentation, and if it does not match it, then the agent must update the motor command.
To conclude, the function of the body schema is dual—it is both to describe the
body (at a level of spatial resolution and in a format appropriate for action) and to
guide action. This dual function is fulfilled if it provides an accurate representation
of the bodily parameters useful for action and if the motor system obeys it. The body
schema corresponds to what Millikan (1995) calls a pushmi-pullyu representation.
Pushmi-pullyu representations (hereafter PPRs) are governed by both truth and ac-
tivity guidance. Like Dr Doolittle’s mythical animal, PPRs face two directions—they
have a mind-to-world and a world-to-mind direction of fit. The content of PPRs varies
as a direct function of a certain variation in some aspect of the environment that it
represents and directly guides behaviour directed toward this particular aspect of the
environment. PPRs need no inferential structure for them to have a relation to ac-
tion. There is no need to translate descriptive information into directive information.
It is constitutive of the content, which builds the command for certain behaviour into
the representations. As such, PPRs afford great economy in terms of response time
and cognitive effort. We can now propose the following final definition for the body
schema:
The body schema represents in a sensorimotor format bodily parameters that are useful
for action planning and control. Its function is both descriptive and coercive.
Now that we have a better understanding of the role that the body schema plays for
action, including the type of information that is represented, its format, and its func-
tion, it is important to acknowledge that there is not a unique representation that meets
this description.
There is a sense in which the term ‘body schema’ is ambiguous, in that it functions
as a general term—a term for the genus, if you will—which groups together various
body representations which count as species of the body schema in virtue of satis-
fying the criteria outlined earlier. We have already distinguished between the repre-
sentation of short-term properties such as bodily posture and the representation of
enduring properties such as body metrics. We have also discussed the roles of body
schematic processes in inverse and forward model-based motor control. Those distinc-
tions apply independently of the type of action that one performs. We now want to pro-
pose that there is a further major distinction, which is, this time, context-dependent—a
Species of body schema 7
distinction between two species: the working body schema for positive affordances,
and the protective body schema for negative affordances (Vignemont, 2018).
Most research in cognitive neuroscience has restricted their investigation of the
body schema and, more generally, of action to bodily movements such as reaching,
grasping, or pointing. These movements allow us to act on the world, to explore it, and
to manipulate objects. From an evolutionary point of view, these are the movements
with the ultimate function of mostly to find food and eat it. But there is another class of
movements, possibly even more important, the function of which concerns a different
dimension of survival, namely self-defence. These movements are sometimes summar-
ized with the famous three Fs: freeze, fight, and flight (Hediger, 1950). One should not
believe, however, that we engage in protective behaviour only when there are predators.
At any moment, we avoid obstacles on our path, we retrieve our foot from the burning
bathwater, and so forth. We can thus distinguish between these two fundamental func-
tions, to exploit the world and to protect oneself from the world.2 What we propose
is that to these two functions correspond two species of body schema, which we call
the working body schema and the protective body schema. Here are two important
implications of this functional distinction. First, the working body schema is centred
on the hands, whereas the protective body schema covers the whole body. Second, the
working body schema is highly malleable and can easily incorporate tools, whereas the
protective body schema is more stable, keeping track of the body to protect, which,
from a biological standpoint, consists of the body that nature gave us.
Let us first consider the working body schema. Its function is to reliably covary with
any bodily instrument that can act on the world and to guide these exploratory actions.
As a consequence, it does not represent the whole acting body homogeneously. It is
indeed with the hands that we mainly act on the world, whether it is to pick berries
and bring them to our mouth, to plant seeds, or to open doors and turn on the light.
We wash our hands more often than any other parts of our body, because they are the
parts of our body that interact the most with the world. We already know that the hands
are over-represented, compared to the rest of the body, in the famous homunculus in
the primary somatosensory and motor cortex. Here, we suggest that the working body
schema, which is implemented at a later cortical stage, also represents the hands in
greater detail than other body parts because of their special significance for acting on
the world. But we also explore the world with tools. Tools extend our space of actions,
allowing us to act further away and more efficiently. They do so by extending the space
of our body, and more specifically our working body schema. Evidence for such em-
bodiment can be found in the following study (Cardinali et al., 2009). In this study,
participants repeatedly used a long mechanical grabber. When subsequently retested
while reaching to grasp with their hand alone, the kinematics of their movements
was significantly modified, as if their arm were longer than before using the grabber.
2 One might wonder whether there is not a risk of an infinite multiplications of motor functions, and thus of a
corresponding body schema. Our level of analysis, however, is at a higher functional level, based on a fundamental
distinction between negative and positive affordances.
8 What is the body schema?
Moreover, this effect of extension was generalized to other movements, such as pointing
on top of objects, although they were never performed with the grabber. Interestingly,
we constantly take, use, and drop tools of different sizes and shapes. This requires the
working body schema to adjust each time, showing an important plasticity.
Consider now the protective body schema. Its function is to reliably covary with the
body to protect and guide defensive actions. Although rarely mentioned in the litera-
ture on body representations, this notion of the body schema can be found in the litera-
ture on pain (Klein, 2015, p. 94):
There may be another distinction to draw within the body schema, this time in terms
of spatial scale. Jacques Paillard (1982) investigated the notion of body schema perhaps
more than anybody else. Consider the following remark of his (p. 66, translation FV):
It would thus seem that the ‘body schema’ could be fragmented into action subsystems
corresponding to the motor instruments involved in the specification of the structure
of the paths of considered visuomotor sub-spaces.
The question now arises—how are all these representational processes constructed in
the brain? The computational processing underlying the generation of a body schema
is still poorly understood. Since it is still relatively controversial whether there are in-
nate body representations, one can question when they start developing. Is it as early
as in utero, during which spontaneous motor activity can lead to the differentiation of
the body into parts at the cortical level, or later when more complex behaviours emerge
(Bremner, 2017)? Here we shall not answer this question but rather highlight the chal-
lenges that any account of the generation of a body schema must meet and the con-
straints that it must respect. Appealing to the Bayesian model of brain functioning, we
shall then sketch the first outlines of a computational model.
The main challenge is that a body schema is not an immutable form of representa-
tion, encoded once and for all. The construction of a body schema should not be con-
ceived as set in stone. Rather it is continuously renewed in order to adapt to structural
and contextual changes of the body. It should thus be seen as a dynamic process. Not
only do short-term properties, such as bodily posture, keep changing, but enduring
properties, such as joint flexibility, muscle strength, weight, and size, also vary across
time. Clearly, our hands are not the same when we are 10, 20, or 80 years of age. This
is particularly true in infancy, when the growth process engages profound structural
bodily changes, but it is also true during pregnancy, for instance, or with the deteri-
oration of the body in later life or ill-health. As noted earlier, this is also specifically
true for the working body schema each time we use and then discard a tool. How is
Towards a Bayesian model of the body schema 13
this ever-running process of adaptation and refinement of the body schema encoded?
A model of the underpinnings of a body schema should describe not only how it is gen-
erated at the beginning, but also how this construction process can adapt in time.
One way to address this issue is to consider the sensory determinants of a body
schema. Consider the act of peeling a fig. In addition to information about the location
and the shape of the fruit, one needs information about: (i) the posture of the fingers
of the hand holding it; (ii) the posture of the hand holding the knife; (iii) the relative
location of the two hands; (iv) the size of the various segments of the upper limbs; and
(v) the size of the knife. To this aim, several sensory inputs can be involved. It is optimal
to combine visual information with proprioceptive and tactile information in order to
achieve the most reliable estimates of the bodily parameters (van Beers et al., 1999).
Here it is important to understand that the sensorimotor format, which is classically
opposed to the visuo-spatial format, does not prevent vision from playing an essen-
tial role for the body schema. We act on the world that we primarily see and the dorsal
pathway of visual processing directly feeds the motor system (Milner & Goodale,
1995). Vision is important for the information that it delivers not only on the world
on which we act, but also on the body that acts on it. Indeed, it offers more reliable in-
formation about spatial properties than touch and proprioception, and it often dom-
inates over them when in conflict (Welch & Warren, 1980). The interaction between
the senses thus improves the likelihood of detecting, localizing, and identifying bodily
events and properties, and any viable body schema must emerge from such a process of
multisensory integration.
The multisensory nature of the body schema has been already emphasized by sev-
eral authors (Vignemont, 2018; Wong, 2014). However, the computations underlying
how the body schema is built up out of several distinct sensory signals remain unclear.
At least two sets of important issues arise. The first problem is known in the binding
literature as the parsing problem—how to identify and select only the relevant sensory
signals to bind together. Typically, one should not integrate proprioceptive information
about one’s hand with visual information about someone else’s hand. Spatiotemporal
congruency is part of the answer, but it cannot suffice. Let us imagine that the patient
feels her phantom hand to be at a location where there is a book. Nonetheless, seeing the
book does not cancel the experience of the phantom hand. One explanation why vision
does not erase the phantom hand is that the perceptual system does not combine the
visual information about the book with the proprioceptive information about the hand,
despite the fact that they are experienced at the same location. Tsakiris (2010) thus sug-
gests the existence of a body template or model, which guarantees that the information
bound together is about the body. The difficulty with this reply is that multisensory
integration also occurs for tools that have been incorporated into a body schema and
tools hardly meet the constraints of a body template. Furthermore, a common location
does not seem to be a necessary condition. Let us consider this time prism adaptation.
When wearing prisms, visual information about the location of one’s hand is in conflict
with proprioceptive information. Yet, they are integrated together despite the spatial
discrepancy.
14 What is the body schema?
The second set of issues arises once the relevant information is selected. How are
the relevant sensory signals integrated together to form a coherent body schema? For
one thing, the temporal encoding of sensory information changes across different sen-
sory modalities. Furthermore, each sensory modality is encoded in its own format
and, in particular, in its own spatial frame (e.g., eye-centred vision, head-centred au-
dition, skin-centred touch). Consequently, the brain cannot just combine the conver-
ging sensory inputs. Rather, the perceptual system needs to go beyond the differences
between sensory formats and spatial frames of reference. Finally, sensory cues are not
given the same weight in the integration process. Consider again the example of the
fig peeler. When in the dark, visual information is downgraded while somatosensory
information is upgraded. Put the light on and the grading of sensory cues changes.
The question is: how is this order of priority settled and how is it adapted to ongoing
circumstances?
The Bayesian model has been gaining success to account for a wide range of cogni-
tive processes. In brief, it postulates that the process underlying the construction of
mental representations stems from the ability of the brain to compute probabilistic stat-
istics. At the core of the model lies the idea that the brain computes the most probable
output, given all available cues. Each time a representation is constructed, the brain
settles one set of rules integrating all relevant cues. Regarding body representations,
two kinds of information are available. On the one hand, sensory signals from distinct
modalities are integrated. On the other, previous attempts at building body representa-
tions serve as priors for future ones, i.e., ongoing body representations are constructed
in light of past body representations. The weight of those ‘priors’ is adjusted, depending
on the correspondence between present and past circumstances. If the present bodily
situation is new, sensory cues will be favoured since past experiences cannot reliably
inform about the current situation, and vice versa. In addition to past experiences,
priors also include other types of mental representations. For example, species of body
schema can serve as priors for each other’s construct—even if, with distinct functions,
the working and the protective body schema refer to the same body. One can therefore
postulate that they are not constructed separately, but that one can inform about how
the other is built up. Along the same lines, we recently proposed that the body schema
can work as a prior for the construction of the body image (Pitron & Vignemont, 2017;
Pitron et al., 2018). Arguably, sensory processing evolved, in the first place, not to pro-
vide conscious perceptual experiences, but to provide sensory control of movements.
It was only later in evolution with the emergence of more and more complex behav-
iours that sensory processing evolved to provide internal models of the world, stored in
memory and accessible to other cognitive systems. If something like this story is true,
then the body schema is evolutionarily prior to the body image. From a developmental
perspective too, it is classically assumed that the body schema has a greater influence
on the body image than the other way around. It thus seems to indicate a predomin-
ance of the body schema over the body image. However, the body schema is only one
prior, among others, on which the body image is built, which also takes into account
social priors, affective priors, and so forth. The body image is thus not a mere copy of
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Hoe een jong Warrau-indiaantje uit de handen der Caraïben
24.ontkwam.[15]
Sluit25.
de oogen en doe een wensch.
De gelukspot.
26.
De honigbij
27. en de zoete drank.
De piaiman
28. en de stinkvogels.
Hoe29.het ongeluk over de menschen kwam, of De
geschiedenis van Macanoura en Anoeannaïtoe.
De kolibri,
30. die tabak brengt aan den eersten piaiman.
Het 31.
ontstaan der vrouwen-stammen.
Het 32.
gebroken ei.
De geest
33. van den pasgeborene.
De huid
34. van den Reuzenslang of Hoe de vogels hun
tegenwoordig gevederte kregen.
Een35.waarschuwing aan de vrouwen.
Hoe36.een man van zijn luiheid genezen werd.
De zwarte
37. tijger, Wau-oeta en de gebroken pijl.
De legende
38. van Letterhoutstomp.
De legende
39. van Arimoribo en Jorobodie.
Uitdrijving
40. van een priester uit den Indiaanschen hemel.
Uitdrijving
41. van Indianen uit den Hemel der Paters.
Bezoek
42. van Caraïben aan Macoesi-land.
Legende
43. van Paramaribo.
Legende
44. van Post-Sommelsdijk.
Einde
45.van den Indiaanschen broederoorlog.
De groote
46. bloedzuigende vleermuis.
Legende
47. van Mapajawari of De uitroeiing der
menscheneters.
Migratie-legende
48. der Creek-Indianen van Georgia.
De Geschiedenis van Haboeri (No. 1), een der mythische helden der
Warraus, die door hen den „vader der uitvindingen” wordt genoemd.
Aan dezen cultuurheld dankt de Warrau zijn zoo voortreffelijke
vaartuigen (korjalen), waarom hij hem in dit verhaal eert. Behalve dat
wij hier ook reeds met willekeurige transformaties van menschen in
dieren en omgekeerd kennis maken, en er de herhaaldelijk in hunne
vertellingen voorkomende verklaring van de eigenschappen van
diersoorten in aantreffen, wordt er ook van een der vele bij
verschillende stammen heerschende meeningen omtrent den
oorsprong van het menschdom in gewag gemaakt. [17]
Hier wordt deze n.l. op de aarde gedacht, en daar de Indianen in het
algemeen zich geen ontstaan kunnen denken uit iets, wat te voren niet
bestond, zoo gelooft de Warrau, dat de mensch, of liever de eerste
voorvader van zijn stam, hetzij uit verschillende dieren, hetzij uit een of
andere plant (in No. 1) of ook wel uit rotsen, steenen of rivieren is te
voorschijn gekomen.
De volgende mythe van dezen bundel (No. 4), getiteld: „De oorsprong
der Caraïben”, doet de menschen uit dieren geboren worden. Zij schijnt
van de Warraus afkomstig te zijn, die haar naar de Caraïben hebben
overgebracht. Hier treffen wij dus het omgekeerde aan ten opzichte van
de mythe, die het menschdom buiten de aarde ontstaan denkt. Voor de
lezers, voor welke deze bundel bestemd is, geven wij de voorkeur aan
de Caraïbische lezing.
Bij vele Indianenstammen, ook van Guyana, treft men sporen aan van
een geloof aan een voortbestaan van het lichaam en de daarin
huizende geesten. Zoo vertelt de Nederlandsche onderzoekingsreiziger
C. H. de Goeje (G.), dat een Ojana-vrouw hem vroeg, als hij terug
mocht komen, voor haar een teremopüillatop (hetgeen beteekent een
werktuig, dat een eeuwig leven kan bezorgen) te willen meêbrengen,
opdat haar zoontje met het eeuwige leven gezegend zou worden.
In een hooger stadium van het geloof aan een voortbestaan na den
dood wordt het lichaam vergankelijk gedacht, maar de geest of de
geesten, die er in huizen en die bij den dood vrijkomen,
onvernietigbaar. In alle deelen, waarin een slagader klopt, meenen de
Indianen, zetelt een geest, van welke de in het hart huizende de
voornaamste is.
Dat in tal van dieren, volgens het geloof der Indianen, geesten huizen,
blijkt niet alleen uit verschillende hunner mythen, sagen enz., maar ook
uit hun geloof aan kwade en goede voorteekens en uit hunne talrijke
bekoringsmiddelen, om de geesten dezer dieren gunstig te stemmen
(zie later). Ook komen onder de Indianen talrijke sporen voor van een
geloof aan geesten, die in planten huizen, (zie verder) ja, de geheele
natuur wordt door de Indianen als bezield gedacht.
Nu eens kan een geest zich aan een ander lichaam verbinden, om een
geestelijke vriend of een raadgever [22]te worden, dan weêr kan hij in
zijn nieuwe verblijf kwaad willen stichten. De geesten kunnen in de
bosschen, velden en bergen blijven ronddolen, hun verblijf in boomen,
steenen, onderaardsche holen opslaan, ja, ook wel met sterren,
rivieren en de zee in verbinding treden.
De geest van een doode is altijd, ook bij de Indianen, een onderwerp
van vrees. Bij doodenfeesten moet men dan ook den geest van den
overledene gunstig trachten te stemmen, en hem vriendelijk
toespreken.
Daarna kwam de moeder van het kind, en zei als in een treurzang:
„Mijn kind, ik bracht je ter wereld, om je alle goede dingen te laten zien
en te laten genieten. Deze borst”, (daarbij toonde zij een harer borsten)
„heeft je gevoed, zoolang je er behoefte aan had. Ik maakte mooie
doeken om je te kleeden; ik verzorgde je en gaf je eten. Ik speelde met
je en heb je nooit geslagen. Je moet ook goed voor ons zijn en nooit
ongeluk over ons brengen”.
„Mijn jongen, toen ik je zei, dat aarde je zou dooden, heb je niet willen
luisteren, en zie, nu ben je dood. Ik ging uit en bracht een mooi
doodkistje voor je meê. Ik zal moeten werken, om het te kunnen
betalen. Ik heb een graf voor je gemaakt op een plek, waar je zoo
dikwijls hebt gespeeld. Ik zal er je behaaglijk inleggen en wat aarde er
bij doen, om ze te kunnen eten; want nu kan je dit geen kwaad meer
doen, en ik weet, dat je er zooveel van houdt. Je moet geen ongeluk
over mij brengen; maar zie naar hem, die je aarde deed eten”.
Het waren tot het Christendom bekeerde Arowakken die zoo spraken,
waaruit blijkt, hoezeer het animistische geloof hen nog beheerschte.
Bij Caraïben bestaat de overtuiging, dat zij zelf de oorzaak zijn van de
kwade bedoelingen der geesten, [24]zooals het verhaal „Hoe
lichaamspijnen, dood en ellende op de wereld kwamen” (No. 7) leert.
Hoewel wij ons hier ter plaatse in dezen strijd niet kunnen mengen,
mag toch worden opgemerkt, dat laatstgenoemde meening, om
gelijksoortige verhalen bij verschillende volken te verklaren, in dit geval
zeer onwaarschijnlijk is en dat vele Afrikaansche elementen, die in de
Indiaansche folklore voorkomen, onmogelijk door een ontstaan,
onafhankelijk eener aanraking met de negerbevolking, kunnen
verklaard worden.
Waar volgens het geloof der Indianen, zooals boven reeds werd
opgemerkt, alles in de natuur bezield gedacht wordt, is het niet te
verwonderen, dat in verband met de wonderlijke rotsvormen, die in het
binnenland van Guyana voorkomen, zij daarin eveneens bepaalde
geesten denken 8 waarvoor zij zich steeds in acht hebben te nemen, en
[28]steeds een zekere vrees aan den dag leggen—zoodat zij het
gevaarlijk achten hunne namen te noemen, wanneer zij ten minste
onder een bepaalden naam bekend staan (No. 29). Walter E. Roth
geeft van deze vrees verschillende voorbeelden, deels uit de litteratuur,
deels uit eigen ondervinding. Het wordt bijv. als hoogst gevaarlijk
beschouwd, met den vinger naar een geest te wijzen, dus ook naar
diens verblijf. Meer in het bijzonder wordt dit vermeld ten opzichte van
den Ouden man’s val (de beroemde Kaieteur-val in de Essequibo). Im
Thurn (T.) verhaalt, dat toen de op gepotlood ijzer gelijkende
verweeringskorst* van vele rotsen in het droge rivierbed zijn aandacht
had getrokken en hij er de Indianen naar vroeg, zij plotseling hem het
zwijgen oplegden en hem waarschuwden, aan die steenen geen
aandacht te schenken, daar deze zich zouden kunnen wreken en
ongelukken zouden kunnen veroorzaken. Een Indiaan, die op
Schomburgk’s reizen door Engelsch Guyana in 1847–48 eene
verzameling gesteenten droeg, wierp ze weg, uit vrees, dat ze kwaad
zouden kunnen stichten.
Ook het omgekeerde, nl. het geboren worden van [29]menschen uit
steen, komt in de Indianen-verhalen meermalen voor. Wij zagen
immers reeds, dat de mythen-cyclus der Arowakken als leidend
kenmerk het ontstaan van alle levende wezens uit een hol in den grond
heeft, dat in menschelijke gedaante, ook wel als een steenen vrouw
wordt voorgesteld. (E. en K. b.).
Bij alle stammen, zoowel van het Noordelijk als het Zuidelijk deel der
Nieuwe Wereld, moesten deze hemellichamen, door hetgeen
aangaande hun voor hen zoo geheimzinnig gedrag werd
waargenomen, tot bezielde wezens worden, die als menschen
handelen, strijd voeren, verslonden worden enz.
Kan het verwonderen, dat de Zon met zijn 9 stralenkrans [31]die aan
veeren, pijlen of haren doet denken, in hooge mate op hunne phantasie
moest inwerken; kan het bevreemden, dat ook de Maan met hare zoo
geheimzinnige vlekken, waarin de Indianen menschelijke en ook wel
dierlijke wezens zien, met hare steeds wederkeerende phasen, aan
welke zij de voorstelling van verbrokkeling, lichamelijken groei en
afname of afknaging verbinden, en van welke de maansikkel hen aan
een wapen 10, een arm of aan een waterrad doet denken, het
uitgangspunt der mythenvorming is geworden? En was het ook niet
natuurlijk, dat het opkomen en ondergaan van beide hemellichamen
voorstellingen van verslonden worden door de aarde of de zee schiep,
evenals de terecht zoo gevreesde zons- en maansverduisteringen
slechts aan een verslonden worden konden worden toegeschreven?
Een voor dezen bundel geschikte mythe, die de Zon zelve tot
onderwerp heeft, heb ik niet kunnen vinden. No. 19, getiteld: „de Zon
en zijne tweelingzoons”, kan deze leemte eenigermate vergoeden.
„Evenals Zon en Maan stelt elke ster, die om een of andere reden de
aandacht van den Indiaan trekt, een voorwerp op aarde voor. Voor een
kenner staat de levensgeschiedenis van dieren en planten”, zeggen de
Penards, „met vurige letters aan de hemel geschreven”. De namen,
die de Indianen aan bepaalde sterren en sterrebeelden geven, zijn òf
ontleend aan het, in een tijd, waarin zij verschijnen, veelvuldig optreden
van dieren, òf aan het dan rijp worden van bepaalde vruchten. Ook hier
laten de Indianen [33]zich weêr kennen als uitmuntende
natuurwaarnemers.
Is het te verwonderen, dat het geluid van den uil in de eerste plaats bij
de Indianen als een slecht voorteeken geldt?
Ook kleinere dieren, zooals insekten kunnen, voor den Indiaan kwaad
of goed beteekenen. Een merkwaardig voorbeeld van dit geloof is bijv.
de Lichtkever*, een der merkwaardigste phosphoresceerende dieren
van het oerwoud, want deze kevers verschijnen plaatselijk als een
zwerm hellichtende vonken, die voortdurend door het geboomte heen
en weêr dwarrelen. Dit insekt kan voor den Indiaan drie voorspellingen
beteekenen. Wanneer het lichtende dier in zijn hut op den grond valt,
voorspelt [36]het een spoedigen dood van een der bewoners. Valt het in
het vuur, dan beteekent dit, dat een hert het gezonden heeft, om licht
voor hem te halen. Wanneer het onder de hutbedekking gaat zitten,
meent de Indiaan, dat hij iemand verwachten kan. Op dit bijgeloof, dat
wij aan Walter E. Roth ontleenen, heeft het verhaal „De lichtkever en
de verdwaalde jager (No. 22) betrekking, terwijl in „De piaiman en de
stinkvogels” (No. 28) een insekt (een zwarte mier) als een goed
voorteeken voorkomt.
Een zeer groote rol in het leven van den Indiaan spelen de bekoringen,
en de daarvoor door hen gebezigde bekoringsmiddelen, de zg. Binas
of Toelalas (P.) die voor allerlei doeleinden dienen, hetzij voor goede,
hetzij voor slechte. Zij worden bijv. gebruikt, om zich een goede jacht of
vischvangst te verzekeren, waarbij men voor bepaalde dieren bijzonder
daarvoor bereide Toelalas bezigt. Het geloof der Indianen in deze
middelen berust op de gelijkenis van het middel met het te bekoren
wezen. Wanneer de Indiaan bijv. een Pakira* wil bekoren, waardoor hij
meent geluk te zullen hebben op de pakirajacht, zal hij het middel
bereiden uit het blad van een plant (een Xanthosoma-soort), waarin hij
gelijkenis ziet met den pakirakop. De Penards hebben in hun reeds
aangehaald werkje dit onderwerp uitvoerig behandeld; daaruit moge
blijken, hoe ingewikkeld dit bekoringsvraagstuk, waarvan volgens den
Indiaan zooveel afhangt, wel is.