Brain, Please.

Human beings like to believe that we are rational, adaptable and capable of high-level thinking. Yet most of us do not live in a way that allows the brain to show what it can actually do. The popular myth that humans use only ten percent of the brain is not true, but it points toward a real problem. We often live at a fraction of our cognitive potential because our habits give the brain very little challenge. Neuroscience shows that the brain is active across all regions, but activity does not mean development. Development happens only when the brain receives real cognitive demand, which is the basis for neuroplasticity, the brain’s ability to change through experience and effort (Costandi, 2016).

The human brain is extremely energy hungry. It makes up only two percent of body weight but uses around twenty percent of the body’s energy (Fernandes et al., 2020). Evolution would not invest this much energy into an organ that sits idle. This means the brain is designed for consistent and meaningful use. When life is dominated by easy, repetitive tasks, convenience and passive consumption, the brain is active but under challenged. This is the real sense in which we use only a small part of our potential.

A large body of research shows that adult brains can still change. Aerobic exercise increases neurotrophic factors such as BDNF (Brain-Derived Neurotrophic Factor), improves blood flow to the hippocampus and supports learning and memory (Fernandes et al., 2020). In a well cited study, Maaß et al. (2015) found that older adults who trained regularly developed measurable vascular changes in the hippocampus, together with cognitive improvements. A more recent review shows similar results. Herrera and Leon Rojas (2024) report that aerobic exercise supports brain structure, learning and cognitive flexibility. All these studies show that the adult brain can change, but only when we demand something from it. Plasticity is not something that happens automatically. It is something we earn through challenge.

This matches my own experience. Many everyday tasks at school or work make me feel tired, but not truly engaged. Writing emails, moving tasks between systems or switching between notifications is tiring, but it does not activate deeper thinking. In contrast, when I create something new, work with others in real time or face a problem without a ready solution, I feel a clear shift inside my mind. My attention becomes sharper. I think more clearly. My presence increases. Neuroscience supports this feeling. Creative problem solving, improvisation and collaboration engage the prefrontal cortex, one of the most plastic and energy demanding areas of the brain (Costandi, 2016).

Modern environments make this type of deep engagement rare. One major reason is digital offloading. When people expect that information will be stored somewhere else, they remember less of it. They remember where to find it, not the content itself (Sparrow, Liu and Wegner, 2011). This reduces the brain’s need to encode information. When this becomes habitual, it weakens our internal memory systems. I see this in myself. I store tasks in digital systems, use AI to write or rewrite my messages and let calendars remember my plans. It helps me stay organised, but it also means I forget things that earlier generations would know by heart. The price of convenience is a reduction in cognitive effort.

Multitasking also harms cognitive performance. Ophir, Nass and Wagner (2009) found that heavy media multitaskers perform worse on tasks that require sustained attention and working memory. A Stanford summary confirmed these effects and connected multitasking to poorer memory performance (Bates, 2018). This matters because modern education and knowledge work often push us toward multitasking. But switching constantly makes it difficult for the brain to enter a deep thinking state.

Plasticity does not apply only to cognitive skills. Emotional intelligence and adaptability are also shaped by the brain’s capacity to change. Hölzel et al. (2011) demonstrated that mindfulness training increases gray matter density in areas linked to self awareness, emotional regulation and empathy. This suggests that emotional skills are not fixed traits. They can be developed through practice. Some practitioners report that neurofeedback training also leads to quick improvements in emotional and cognitive patterns, although findings are mixed (Ershov, 2024). In many workplaces, emotional intelligence is now as important as technical knowledge. Plasticity gives us a scientific reason to treat emotional training as serious work. When I am fully present with someone, read emotional signals, regulate myself and stay attentive, I think more clearly. Emotion and cognition are not separate. They support each other. When one improves, the other often improves too.

Neuroplasticity also raises philosophical questions. If the brain is always changing, how does personal identity stay stable? Memories change when we recall them (Costandi, 2016). Emotional experiences reinterpret the past (Hölzel et al., 2011). If the self is nothing more than a changing brain, then identity becomes unstable (Kriger, 2025). Yet this view is too simple. Identity is created not only by neural connections but by the stories we tell about ourselves, our values and our long term commitments (Kriger, 2025). These structures provide continuity even when the brain rewires itself (Costandi, 2016). In clinical psychology, therapy often works by helping people rebuild a coherent sense of self, not by changing neural pathways directly (Hölzel et al., 2011). In education and skill development, learning works best when people connect new skills to their personal goals and past experience (Costandi, 2016). Plasticity gives us potential, but identity shapes the direction in which we grow.

There are also limits to what the human brain can do. Even if plasticity helps us learn more and adapt better, there are cognitive problems we may never solve. The MIT McGovern Institute notes that just as a mouse will never understand chemistry, humans might not be able to solve some types of complex problems, no matter how much we train (Veerakone, 2024). This does not weaken the argument for cognitive training. Instead, it gives it context. The goal is not to become superhuman. The goal is to reach our own potential as fully as possible.

This brings us to a practical question. How do we create conditions that support plasticity? Research suggests three key principles. First, challenge. Learning new activities or raising the difficulty of familiar skills forces the brain to work harder. Second, complexity. Activities that require planning, problem solving and creativity activate circuits responsible for high order thinking. Third, practice. Repetition stabilises new neural pathways. Harvard Health summarises this idea clearly: challenge starts the process, complexity deepens it and practice makes it last (LeWine, 2024). Without consistent engagement, plastic changes disappear. With practice, they become part of who we are.

These insights help me see my own patterns. I am disciplined with physical training and routines. I rely on identity signalling because it helps me stay consistent. I build habits that reduce decision fatigue, so my mind can focus on harder tasks. But I also outsource too much cognitive work. I use tools to remember things I could remember myself. I let AI write messages that I could write. This creates a strange mix. In some areas, I push myself. In others, I become passive. Realising this is uncomfortable, but also useful. It shows me where I can grow. I now experiment with doing more tasks without external memory, to see how my brain reacts. It is surprisingly difficult. Convenience is not neutral. It changes the brain.

All of this leads to a broader conclusion. To live a meaningful cognitive life, we need to design environments that support effort, not avoid it. We need to accept challenge, seek complexity and practise consistently. We also need to understand that who we become depends on how we use our brain every day. Identity is shaped by attention and effort. A life full of distraction and convenience produces a passive mind. A life with intentional cognitive demand produces clarity, creativity and agency. Neuroscience shows this biologically. Philosophy explains it conceptually. Personal experience confirms it.

Before reaching this conclusion, I have to be honest with myself. If neuroplasticity is a biological fact and if my habits clearly influence the direction of change, then I can no longer pretend that my current routines are enough. I want to challenge myself more deliberately. I want to reduce automatic digital offloading, choose harder tasks more often and design moments in my day that force my brain to stay active instead of comfortable. For anyone reading this, the same question applies: what would change if you intentionally made your daily life a little more cognitively demanding? Not in dramatic ways, but in small, consistent steps. A harder book. A new physical skill. A conversation without a phone nearby. These are not huge interventions, but they can shift the trajectory of who we become.

The goal is not constant effort, but meaningful effort. By inviting our brain to work deeply and regularly, we give ourselves the chance to grow into a stronger and more coherent version of ourselves. Neuroplasticity is not only a scientific concept. It is a personal invitation.