Insights into embodied cognition and mental imagery from aphantasia
Muraki, E. J., Speed, L. J., & Pexman, P. M. (2023). Insights into embodied cognition and mental imagery from aphantasia. Nature Reviews Psychology, 2(10), 591–605. doi:10.1038/s44159-023-00221-9
Abstract
Mental representations allow humans to think about, remember and communicate about an infinite number of concepts. A key question within cognitive psychology is how the mind stores and accesses the meaning of concepts. Embodied theories propose that concept knowledge includes or requires simulations of the sensory and physical interactions of one’s body with the world, even when a concept is subsequently processed in a context unrelated to those interactions. However, the nature of these simulations is highly debated and their mechanisms underspecified. Insight into whether and how simulations support concept knowledge can be derived from studying related mental representations, such as mental imagery. In particular, research into the inability to form mental imagery, known as aphantasia, can advance understanding of mental imagery and mental simulations. In this Review, we provide an overview of embodied theories of cognition, review research in mental imagery and consider how simulation and mental imagery might overlap. We then synthesize the growing aphantasia literature and discuss how aphantasia can be used to test predictions derived from theories of embodied cognition. Embodied theories propose that concept knowledge involves simulations of sensory information. In this Review, Muraki et al. discuss how studying individuals with an inability to form mental images can provide insight into the relationship between mental imagery and these mental simulations.
Authors
- Emiko J. Muraki2
- Laura J. Speed3
- Penny M. Pexman2
Aphantasia and the Mystery of How We Think
Imagine trying to remember your childhood home, or planning what outfit to wear tomorrow, and discovering you can't actually *see* these images in your mind. That's the reality for people with aphantasia—they're unable to form mental imagery, yet most function perfectly well in everyday life. This curious gap has caught the attention of psychologists like Emiko Muraki and her colleagues, who published a groundbreaking review in *Nature Reviews Psychology* asking: what can people who can't visualize tell us about how the human mind actually works?
The question matters more than it might initially seem. For decades, scientists have debated a fundamental question about cognition: when you think about a concept, does your brain simply retrieve stored information like a computer accessing files, or does something richer happen? Embodied cognition theory suggests that thinking isn't abstract at all—instead, your brain essentially simulates sensory experiences and physical interactions, even when you're not actually seeing, hearing, or touching anything. According to this view, understanding the word "coffee" involves unconsciously activating memories of its smell, taste, weight in your hand, and the warmth of the cup. Mental imagery is thought to be part of this simulation process.
But here's where it gets interesting: if embodied cognition is truly central to how we think, what happens to people who can't generate mental images? Do they struggle with basic understanding? Are they missing something fundamental to human cognition? Or do they compensate in ways that reveal mental imagery might be less essential than theorists assumed?
Muraki's team conducted a comprehensive review of growing research on aphantasia to tackle exactly these questions. They examined how people with this condition perform on various cognitive tasks, from memory retrieval to language comprehension to attention. What they found was surprisingly nuanced.
People with aphantasia show some expected differences. When remembering past events or imagining future scenarios, they tend to recall fewer sensory details and use less perceptual language—they're less likely to say "I see" when describing memories, for instance. In controlled laboratory settings, they're less susceptible to visual hallucinations and show less vivid pseudo-hallucinations than people with typical imagery. They also don't show certain attention effects that seem to rely on mental imagery priming.
Yet here's the fascinating part: when researchers have tested whether people with aphantasia show embodied effects during language comprehension—meaning, do they still activate sensorimotor information when thinking about action words or concrete concepts—the evidence remains mixed and inconclusive. Some studies suggest they do exhibit these effects despite lacking imagery, while others don't find them. This contradiction is precisely what makes aphantasia so scientifically valuable.
The researchers identify several key possibilities. One is that aphantasia might disrupt only *conscious*, voluntary mental imagery—the kind you deliberately generate when you imagine something. Meanwhile, the *unconscious* sensorimotor simulations happening in the background during language processing and thinking might remain intact. Think of it like this: you can't deliberately watch a movie in your mind, but your brain might still be running simulations you're not aware of. Alternatively, aphantasia might be more targeted, affecting only specific sensory modalities; someone might lack visual imagery but retain auditory or tactile mental simulation.
The research also reveals an intriguing symmetry. Just as some people completely lack mental imagery, others have the opposite condition called hyperphantasia—extremely vivid, almost photographic mental imagery. These individuals might rely more heavily on embodied, sensory information when processing concepts, while people with aphantasia might compensate by leaning more on linguistic and abstract knowledge. This mirrors something researchers have observed in congenitally blind people, who develop sophisticated ways to understand visual concepts through language patterns and non-visual knowledge about the world.
What makes this research particularly exciting is how it flips the traditional research model. Usually, scientists study how typical brains work and then assume exceptions are just deficits. Here, by studying people who experience cognition differently, researchers can test the boundaries of existing theories. If mental imagery were truly essential for all thinking, people with aphantasia should show widespread cognitive problems—but many don't. This suggests embodied cognition might be more flexible than previously thought, with multiple routes to understanding and meaning-making.
The implications ripple outward in unexpected directions. For education, it suggests different students genuinely think in fundamentally different ways—visualizers and non-visualizers might benefit from different learning strategies. For understanding neurological conditions and individual differences, it highlights how brains can achieve similar outcomes through different neural mechanisms. And philosophically, it reminds us that consciousness and human experience are far more varied than our intuitions might suggest.
Perhaps most importantly, this research demonstrates that rather than dismissing aphantasia as a deficit, we can treat it as a natural experiment that tests the very foundations of how we think. By studying people who experience the world without mental imagery, scientists are learning that the human mind is more adaptable, more multifaceted, and more mysterious than we'd assumed. And sometimes, the most profound insights into how something works come not from studying it at its most typical, but from examining cases where it works—or doesn't work—differently.
This summary was generated by AI and may contain errors. Always refer to the original paper for accuracy.