Santiago Ramón y Cajal: The Father of Neuroscience

For better or worse, Spain has generally been known more for its art than its science. Historically speaking, the last 500 years have not been kind to Spain. The crude injection of wealth from its colonies was spent mainly on the long march of useless European religious wars. Catholic monarchs cared little for scientific activity that could threaten their spiritually ordained authority and fragile grip on an already slippery polis. It was more tempting to spend discretionary funds on art and architecture, with results that could be immediately discerned and associated with a patron. 

At work in the lab

At work in the lab

That being said, by the middle of the 19thCentury, even Spain was not immune to the siren song of industrial development and the underlying scientific advancement that was generating new wealth. It was into this world in transition that Santiago Ramón y Cajal was born in 1852. The son of an anatomy instructor at the University of Zaragoza, Santiago had little interest in academics and did not flourish during an apprenticeship as a cobbler. His interest was art. Although clearly talented as an artist, his father continued to push him towards medicine. Eventually persuaded, he earned his medical degree in Zaragoza and subsequently joined the Spanish Army for a tour in Cuba. Like many of those deployed to Cuba during those years, he contracted both tuberculosis and malaria, diseases that would burden him for the rest of his life, but also inspire him to make great contributions in the field of infectious disease (especially cholera).

It was not infectious disease however, that would elevate Ramón y Cajal into the Pantheon of medical science. He achieved this by building a bridge between art and science…between the old Spain, and the emerging Spain. It started with his fascination with histology, the study of tissue. More specifically, he became fascinated with brain tissue. With new techniques emerging (many related to photographic processing), tissue samples could be stained in ways that allowed for the detailed analysis of neural pathways. For the first time, investigators were able to see and draw conclusions about the processes of the brain that had previously been utterly mysterious. However, being able to apply stains and see neural pathways through his microscope, was only one part of the equation. In fact, many scientists could do this at the time. What made Ramón y Cajal’s contribution so critical was his skill as an artist. With a painter’s attention to detail, he began the laborious process of cataloging this new world, providing blueprints on paper that could finally be shared and analyzed. By bringing art and science together, he introduced the world to the human mind. 

Drawing of Purkinje cells (A) and granule cells (B) from pigeon cerebellum by Santiago Ramón y Cajal, 1899. Instituto Santiago Ramón y Cajal, Madrid, Spain

Drawing of Purkinje cells (A) and granule cells (B) from pigeon cerebellum by Santiago Ramón y Cajal, 1899. Instituto Santiago Ramón y Cajal, Madrid, Spain

Among his many contributions was his argument that the neural network was not a set of wires. Rather it was a sequence of independent neurons that passed information along a chain. Although this approach (known as neural theory) seems evident to us today, it was a radical departure from the widely accepted reticular theory that viewed the nervous system as a solid network. This foundational discovery contributed greatly to the recognition of Ramón y Cajal as the father of modern neuroscience. Furthermore, he became the first Spaniard to win a Noble Prize for Science. 

Today, his global legacy remains strong. In Spain, visitors can visit his home in the beautiful pueblo of Petilla de Aragon, as well as attend lectures at the Ramón y Cajal Institute in Madrid. Modern Spain, propelled by his legacy, has become a recognized world leader in neuroscience. I am especially indebted to this great scientist for the influence that he has allowed me to personally witness. As you may know, my wife is a Spanish neurologist with a family tradition of attending the same medical school in Zaragoza where Ramón y Cajal studied. His influence and legacy played a large role in my wife’s professional choices and therefore has touched (and often saved) the lives of many people in our community. 

NOTE: For a beautiful collection of his drawings, I highly recommend the recently published The Beautiful Brain, reviewed here by The New York Times.

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