I don't see images in my head. Can training give me a mind's eye?

Imagine closing your eyes and trying to visualize a tropical bird called a potoo: a head as round as a pill, brown feathers, and a huge beak that opens wide in a pink smile. Now, some people immediately see a vivid scene in their mind, while others see nothing—just darkness. This second group is made up of people with aphantasia: a condition in which the mind does not produce visual images. Here's the twist: most of us think that seeing images in our heads is universal, but in reality, about 4% of the population has never seen anything in their mind—often without realizing it for decades. The article recounts precisely this experience, with the journalist discovering the word “aphantasia” only in her thirties, having always thought that “imagining” meant simply listing words, not seeing internal images. The main character who helps her explore the topic is Alec Figueroa, a coach specializing in mental visualization exercises. He himself does not have aphantasia, but he has created a program that has been followed by over 90 people, some of whom report having had “breakthroughs”—even if only seeing the colors of a sunset in their mind for a moment. However, science is very cautious: according to Reshanne Reeder and Adam Zeman, neuroscientists who study aphantasia, there is no solid evidence that the visual mind can really be “turned on” through training, at least for those starting from scratch. There are objective experiments: for example, people who see mental images exhibit changes in their pupils when they imagine light or darkness, whereas people with aphantasia do not. There are also tests such as binocular rivalry, where the mind “targets” two superimposed images (one red, one blue): only those with visual imagination can make the chosen color prevail mentally. But the story gets more complicated: during her training sessions, the journalist realizes that she “feels” space in her mind—for example, she imagines her room after selling her sofa and senses the emptiness where the object used to be. This leads Zeman to explain that, in reality, mental imagination is not just about seeing objects but also about perceiving space. Moreover, people with aphantasia often have a strong spatial imagination, even above average, despite not having visual images. Harry O’Connor, one of Figueroa’s clients, on the other hand, desperately wants to be able to see the faces of his loved ones in his mind, while other people with aphantasia would not want to change anything: at a conference, half of the attendees would have wanted a cure, while the other half were against it. There are plenty of surprises: there are fantasy writers and illustrators with aphantasia, and those who don't see images are less likely to experience traumatic flashbacks or visual hallucinations. The real open question is this: Is aphantasia a truly insurmountable biological limitation, or can the mind be trained to see? Future studies will seek to answer this question, but for now, those who try the training exercises often notice something different—less about seeing images than about discovering the richness of their own inner world, made up of emotions, sensations, and spaces, even without mental visions. “An inner world can be rich even if it remains shrouded in darkness,” as the journalist concludes. If you thought that not seeing mental images was unusual, now you know that it is just one of the many paths of consciousness. On Lara Notes, there is a gesture you won’t find anywhere else: I’m In. It's not a heart; it's not a thumbs-up. It's your declaration: this perspective concerns you. And if you discuss aphantasia with someone, on Lara Notes you can tag them with Shared Offline—because that conversation deserves to be remembered. This topic comes from New Scientist and has saved you about thirteen minutes of reading time.