Think about earworms, you know, those tunes that you can’t stop playing back in your head.

Now we’ll play a little game. We’ll take some ordinary English sentences but dress them up in smartypants neuroscience language. So instead of saying “in your head” you say “in your brain”. And instead of saying “idea” you say “neural pathways representing a concept”. You can probably make up your own rules for converting English to Neurospeak. “I have a headache” might become “a neural excitiation in my brain is causing the my pain sensors to represent pain in my cerebral area” or “I remember that book” might become “signals from my optic nerve are analysed and compared with prior stored representations of books until a match is found” and so on. Anyone can play, it’s easy.

Dan Levitin knows how to play. Here’s what he has to say on earworms: “Our best explanation is that the neural circuits representing a song get stuck in `playback mode’”. Cute eh? But here’s the weird thing. He doesn’t realise this is just a game you can play with language. He thinks these are actually scientific explanations. In fact he spends 300 pages writing trivial things about music in Neurospeak, presenting it as science. It’s like Moliere’s joke about explaining how opium works by saying it has “soporific virtue”.

It’s not completely content-free however. For example he has a quote from Newton pointing out that you can’t see the colour of light waves, rather that light waves are what you use to see things in colour. Bizarrely Newton made no such claim because he believed light was made of particles, not waves. The point still stands, but how did a completely fictional quote like that get through? Is it acceptable to make up quotes from scientists to make your point?

At one point Levitin tells us all about the mistake of Cartesianism – the idea that the things we sense in the world are just encoded in a new representation that some inner self can view, as if the external world is presented on an inner screen in our brains. That, of course, leads to an infinite regress. Who watches the inner screen? This is all well and good, but throughout the book Levitin describes a model of the brain that is 100% Cartesian. For example, he says that when we hear a sound, the end of the journey is a mental image of that sound. He seems to have missed the point that the philosphers he quotes, Wittgenstein and Dennett, devoted much of their lives to demolishing such a silly picture.

I did find the discussion of the roots of Joni Mitchell’s chords quite interesting however, not that I like Joni Mitchell. But that saves the book from one star.

Oh, and Levitin does know a lot of famous people, if you’re impressed by that sort of thing.