Does Meditation Make You Smarter?

Search for the benefits of meditation and within a minute you will be told that it thickens your cortex, raises your IQ, and synchronizes the two halves of your brain. Some of that is true. A good deal of it is a set of decade-old press releases that has been copied from one site to the next until it acquired the texture of fact.

The honest answer is narrower than the marketing one, and more interesting, because the things meditation reliably does turn out to matter more in an ordinary life than the things it was supposed to do.

What “smarter” is doing in that sentence

Intelligence, in the way most people use the word, means something like raw processing power: the quantity an IQ test attempts to measure, and which stays fairly stable across an adult life. There is very little evidence that meditation moves that number. I would treat anyone who tells you otherwise with some suspicion.

But almost nobody is actually limited by their processing power. They are limited by how much of it they can bring to bear at a given moment. Attention wanders off mid-sentence. Working memory fills with noise. A mood arrives and takes the whole apparatus offline for an afternoon. Whatever intelligence you have is only as useful as your access to it, and access is not fixed.

That is the part the research has something worth hearing to say about.

Attention, which is the finding that holds up

If only one claim in this article survives the next twenty years of research, it will be this one. Meditation trains attention, because training attention is mechanically what the practice consists of. You choose an object, you notice you have left it, you return. Repeated a few thousand times, that is not a metaphor for concentration practice. It is a rep count.

The most quoted demonstration put undergraduates through two weeks of mindfulness training and then tested them. Working memory improved, and so did reading-comprehension scores on a standardized exam. What made the result interesting was the mechanism: the gains tracked how much less the students’ minds wandered during the test, rather than any change in ability. They had not become better readers. They had become harder to interrupt.

This is worth sitting with, because it is the shape of nearly every genuine finding in this field. The capacity was already there. What changed was how much of it reached the task.

Working memory, which follows from attention

Working memory is the small, loud workspace where you hold a phone number, or the first half of an argument while you evaluate the second. It is easily flooded, and one of the things that floods it most efficiently is worrying about something else.

Meditation appears to help here, and the plausible reason is unglamorous: less rumination leaves more room. Under stress the effect is larger, which fits. Someone whose mind is quiet has a workspace that was never particularly crowded to begin with.

Emotional regulation, which is the one you will actually notice

This is where the original enthusiasm was most nearly right, and where the everyday difference is largest.

Sitting still and watching your own mind for twenty minutes a day teaches you something that is almost impossible to learn any other way: that an emotion is an event with a beginning, a middle and an end, rather than a fact about the world or about you. You watch irritation arrive. You watch it crest. You watch it go, without having done anything about it. After enough repetitions the gap between a feeling arriving and your acting on it widens from nothing to something you can stand inside.

Call that intelligence or do not, as you prefer. But a person who can be annoyed without immediately becoming annoying has more of their judgment available to them than a person who cannot, and the difference shows up in work and in marriages long before it shows up on any test.

There is a second-order effect worth mentioning. Reading your own states more accurately makes you better at reading other people’s, for the straightforward reason that you now have vocabulary for what you are seeing.

The brain does change shape, less dramatically than advertised

Neuroplasticity is real, and it is not controversial: brains reorganize in response to what is repeatedly asked of them, in the same general way muscle responds to load. Applying that to meditation is reasonable.

The specific findings are shakier than their fame suggests. Sara Lazar’s group at Harvard reported thicker cortex in long-term meditators in regions associated with attention and bodily awareness. A later and widely reported study found changes in grey matter density after an eight-week course. Both were small. Larger and better-controlled trials since have struggled to reproduce several of the structural results, and a 2018 review in Perspectives on Psychological Science, bluntly titled Mind the Hype, went through this literature and found small effect sizes, inconsistent definitions of mindfulness, and a strong tendency for positive results to reach publication while null results did not.

None of that means the practice does not work. It means the brain-imaging evidence was oversold by roughly an order of magnitude, mostly by people writing headlines rather than by the researchers. The behavioural evidence, which is less photogenic, has held up better than the pictures did.

What did not survive

Three claims travel with this subject constantly. They should be retired, and I include them because I have repeated at least two of them myself in the past.

Synchronizing the hemispheres

The idea that people are left-brained or right-brained, and that meditation harmonizes the two, is the most durable myth in popular neuroscience. It is also wrong. An analysis of more than a thousand brain scans found no evidence that individuals have a dominant hemisphere at all. The hemispheres do specialize for certain functions, but nobody is running their life predominantly from one of them, and there is nothing to synchronize.

Tuning your brain waves

Alpha, theta and delta activity do shift during meditation. That much is measurable. The leap from there to creativity and accelerated learning is not supported, and the way brain waves are usually described in wellness writing bears little resemblance to what an EEG actually records. It is a real signal wrapped in an unearned story.

The happiest man in the world

Matthieu Ricard sitting in meditation with electrodes measuring brain signals
 Matthieu Ricard, was given the title of “The happiest man in the world” by the press. After studies performed on him during meditation. 

Matthieu Ricard, a French-born monk and long-time subject in Richard Davidson’s lab at Wisconsin, was given this title by the press after scans showed unusual patterns of gamma activity and left-prefrontal asymmetry. The research is genuine and remains among the most interesting work done on very experienced practitioners.

The title is not. Ricard has spent years trying to get rid of it, pointing out that happiness was never measured, that no scale of the kind implied exists, and that the whole idea is faintly absurd. He is right, and it is a good illustration of how this field goes wrong: a real result about one unusual brain, turned into a ranking that was never taken.

So, does it make you smarter?

No, if you mean the number. Almost certainly yes, if you mean the amount of your own mind you have available on a given Tuesday.

Two things are worth being clear about. The first is that this takes time. Short-term studies of a few sessions generally find nothing, and the honest reading of that is not that the studies were flawed but that a handful of sits does not do much. The interval that matters is months and years, which is also what every teacher in the tradition has said for two and a half thousand years without the benefit of a scanner.

The second is that none of this is why the practice exists. Sharper attention and steadier moods are side effects. They are real, they are worth having, and they are not the point — the tradition has a far larger objective in mind, and it is not self-improvement.

Still, a practice taken up for imperfect reasons is better than no practice at all, and motives change on their own once you are sitting. If the cognitive argument is what gets you onto the cushion, it has done its job. The beginner’s guide covers posture, the breath, and getting through the first fifteen minutes.

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