↖ “So that everything whole could be halved,” said my uncle, lying prone on the rock, caressing those convulsing halves of octopus, “so that everyone could step out of their dull and ignorant wholeness. I was whole, and all things were natural and confused to me, stupid as the air; I thought I saw everything, and it was only the rind. If ever you become half of yourself—and I wish it for you, boy—you will understand things beyond the common intelligence of whole minds. I would have lost half of you and the world, but the remaining half will be a thousand times deeper and more precious. And you too will want everything halved and torn to your image, because beauty, wisdom, and justice exist only in what is made in pieces.”



It was September 13, 1848, and Phineas, a young American laborer, was working on the construction of the Rutland-Burlington Railroad.
When a large boulder obstructed the path of the tracks, it had to be blown up. Phineas knew the procedure: first, the stone was drilled, then, once the hole was deep enough, gunpowder could be inserted and pushed down with a long iron rod. That day, however, things went differently, and the iron rod caused a spark that suddenly detonated the entire boulder.
What happened next became known as the Gage case. A 110 cm long, 6 kg iron rod penetrated the young man’s left cheek, pierced the base of his skull, passed through the frontal part of his brain, and exited through the top of his head. Against all expectations, Gage did not die instantly. In fact, it was his own words that, a few hours later, informed the young physician Edward Williams about the circumstances of the accident.
What happened in the following years to Phineas’s mind and behavior forced scientists to revise their understanding of brain damage and its effects. He was, in fact, the first subject to undergo what would later be defined as a “lobotomy,” a disconnection of the frontal lobe from the rest of the brain. It was precisely this disconnection that caused changes in his emotional and social behavior. The personality change was due to damage to more than 10% of the gray matter, which normally allows humans to think, reason, and regulate most behaviors accurately.
Neurologist Antonio Damasio coined the term “acquired sociopathy.” Sociopathy is a condition that prevents those affected from adapting to the sociocultural norms of their community. In Damasio’s new category are individuals who meet the same criteria as classical sociopaths, but only following injury to the orbitofrontal cortex. Gage was still able to live independently after the accident, but it was said that “he was no longer the same.”
Profound personality changes made him unrecognizable, impatient, rude, and quick-tempered, Gage could no longer establish contact with others mediated by even a shred of moderation.
“His character, his tastes, his dreams, his aspirations: everything will change. Gage’s body may be fully alive, but there is a new spirit animating it.”
These are the words of neurologist Antonio Damasio regarding Phineas Gage.
Thanks to the misfortune of young Phineas, we now know that reasoning, decision-making, emotions, and feelings reside in part in the neural substrate located in specific regions of the brain, such as the orbitofrontal cortex.
Phineas Gage died on May 21, 1860, in San Francisco, where he had found work as a stagecoach driver. His skull is now on display at Harvard Medical School, and researchers at UCLA have created a 3D study model. He is remembered today as “the man who launched neuroscience.”