Smells Like A Memory
The connection between smell and memory is a powerful one; where does it come from and where will it lead us?
One day last week, I rolled my cart up to a store checkout line to pay for my purchases, when suddenly, and without warning, I was instantaneously transported back in time to the year 1985. I looked around, astonished, and found myself seated in a movie theater with my best friend Becky, watching the movie Pee-wee Herman's Big Adventure. As if in a dream, I watched the boy seated next to me pull out a small spray bottle of cologne and spritz himself with it. I didn't even have time to remember his name, as the smell of his cologne overwhelmed me quickly. I ran out of the theater and dry-heaved into the bushes, the smell of his cologne still burning my nostrils.
What was going on? Had I stumbled onto a time machine? Had I unwittingly discovered a worm hole in Aisle Nine? How would I ever get back home from 1985? (Does this plot sound familiar?) I was so captivated by my trip into the past that I didn't immediately register the voice of the store clerk trying to get my attention: "Ma'am? Ma'am? Are you okay?" And just like that, I was back in the store. But as I took a deep breath, all of a sudden I realized what it was that had sent me back in time: The clerk was wearing Polo cologne, and one whiff of that particular scent had been enough to trigger an overwhelming flood of memory.
Nabokov wrote "Nothing revives the past so completely as a smell that was once associated with it." In my case, he was absolutely right. I really was in a movie theater in 1985 with my friend Becky, watching Pee-wee cavort around searching for his bike; a boy really came and sat next to me at the theater and spray himself with (more) Polo cologne; I really did become overwhelmed by the smell and have to leave the theater to throw up outside. The strange thing about that incident was that I hadn't thought of it in almost two decades, and yet the crystal-clear memory of it was unexpectedly and completely brought back to me by the simple act of smelling a clerk's Polo cologne twenty years later.
A smell triggering an intense memory is not at all uncommon. We may smell chocolate chip cookies baking and remember making them with our mothers; we may smell chlorine and instantly remember splashing around a swimming pool as children; we may smell leaves burning outside and remember a beautiful fall day from years gone by.
What is it about our sense of smell and memory? Why do smells have such power to elicit such clear recollections? Looked at from strictly a physiological perspective, it's really not such a surprising phenomenon: the olfactory bulb, which relays sensory signals to the olfactory tract, (read, "helps us smell"), is located in the limbic region of the brain.
Very simply put, the limbic region of the brain, which consists primarily of the hypothalamus, the hippocampus, and the amygdala, is considered the "Emotional Nervous System". This system is responsible for things like regulating hunger and thirst, pain and pleasure, aggression and arousal. The hippocampus, specifically, is responsible for converting short-term memory to long-term memory by way of associative learning.
So put the olfactory bulb right in there next to your "Emotional Nervous System" and it's easier to imagine how the conversion from smell to memory might take place.
For example, let's say that every summer you used to go fishing with your grandfather, and he would always use the same smelly catfish bait. The smell of that bait, and the positive, happy emotions you felt in your grandfather's company, made a connection that was imprinted on your short-term memory. But it was your hippocampus, located so close to your olfactory bulb, which helped convert that imprint into a long-term memory, so that years after your grandfather's death, whenever you smell that same wretched bait, you are transported right back onto the boat with your grandfather, and feeling the same feelings of happiness and well-being.
Smell is a very powerful thing. I first became interested in how dramatically smells can affect us when my son was diagnosed with Sensory Integrative Dysfunction Disorder several years ago. For him, one of the manifestations of the disorder was a hyper-sensitivity to smells. He had, at one point, gone into an inexplicable, uncontrollable rage with no apparent provocation. Hours later, we discovered that the scent of burning popcorn had been the cause of his distress, sending him into a fight-or-flight mode. (Remember how close the olfactory bulb is to the amygdala? That's the part that controls responses like aggression and fear - see the connection?)
Later, when he was having trouble sleeping, his occupational therapist suggested we try lavender oil in a diffuser to help calm him down at night. We were skeptical at first, thinking it was just some sort of New Age hippie bunk, but even we could not deny how well it worked as we watched him sleep through the night for the first time in months. Indeed, the sense of smell is very powerful, powerful enough not just to elicit memories, but also to have an impact on our responses.
But parents of children with sensory disorders are not the only ones picking up on how powerfully our sense of smell affects our behavior. Marketers are learning quickly how to manipulate our habits through creating what they call "scent environment" (although Abercrombie & Fitch still hasn't figured out that overwhelming scents can actually drive some would-be shoppers away).
A quick search online yields more than one million hits under the term "Scent Marketing". There are "Scent Institutes", "Scent Seminars", "Scent Universities", "Scent Expos", and more, all designed with the purpose of teaching companies how to "...promote the benefits, awareness and value of scent marketing in business and society" (www.scentmarketing.org).
Because the sense of smell is so powerful, it is a little unnerving to think of companies specifically designing "scent environment" in an attempt to manipulate our behavior. I'd like to think they just like to make the stores smell nice for us, but it's all going to be about trying to manipulate our behavior. It's not a new concept, designing an environment to try to entice consumers to respond in a positive way, but given the power of our sense of smell, it's a little unsettling to think of how strong a reaction they may elicit with just a subtle shift of scent.
Not everyone may respond as intensely to smells as my son (or as I did in that store last week), but the fact remains that we humans are physiologically programmed to respond, (largely involuntarily) to the smells around us, simply because of the proximity of our olfactory systems to our "Emotional Nervous Systems".
For me, that might just mean that I smell Mrs. Field's cookies and I'm suddenly ravenous, or that I smell Polo cologne and I'm suddenly nauseated. For my son, well, I might just have to place a clothespin in his pocket for emergency situations - in case someone burns the popcorn again.
What was going on? Had I stumbled onto a time machine? Had I unwittingly discovered a worm hole in Aisle Nine? How would I ever get back home from 1985? (Does this plot sound familiar?) I was so captivated by my trip into the past that I didn't immediately register the voice of the store clerk trying to get my attention: "Ma'am? Ma'am? Are you okay?" And just like that, I was back in the store. But as I took a deep breath, all of a sudden I realized what it was that had sent me back in time: The clerk was wearing Polo cologne, and one whiff of that particular scent had been enough to trigger an overwhelming flood of memory.
Nabokov wrote "Nothing revives the past so completely as a smell that was once associated with it." In my case, he was absolutely right. I really was in a movie theater in 1985 with my friend Becky, watching Pee-wee cavort around searching for his bike; a boy really came and sat next to me at the theater and spray himself with (more) Polo cologne; I really did become overwhelmed by the smell and have to leave the theater to throw up outside. The strange thing about that incident was that I hadn't thought of it in almost two decades, and yet the crystal-clear memory of it was unexpectedly and completely brought back to me by the simple act of smelling a clerk's Polo cologne twenty years later.
A smell triggering an intense memory is not at all uncommon. We may smell chocolate chip cookies baking and remember making them with our mothers; we may smell chlorine and instantly remember splashing around a swimming pool as children; we may smell leaves burning outside and remember a beautiful fall day from years gone by.
What is it about our sense of smell and memory? Why do smells have such power to elicit such clear recollections? Looked at from strictly a physiological perspective, it's really not such a surprising phenomenon: the olfactory bulb, which relays sensory signals to the olfactory tract, (read, "helps us smell"), is located in the limbic region of the brain.
Very simply put, the limbic region of the brain, which consists primarily of the hypothalamus, the hippocampus, and the amygdala, is considered the "Emotional Nervous System". This system is responsible for things like regulating hunger and thirst, pain and pleasure, aggression and arousal. The hippocampus, specifically, is responsible for converting short-term memory to long-term memory by way of associative learning.
So put the olfactory bulb right in there next to your "Emotional Nervous System" and it's easier to imagine how the conversion from smell to memory might take place.
For example, let's say that every summer you used to go fishing with your grandfather, and he would always use the same smelly catfish bait. The smell of that bait, and the positive, happy emotions you felt in your grandfather's company, made a connection that was imprinted on your short-term memory. But it was your hippocampus, located so close to your olfactory bulb, which helped convert that imprint into a long-term memory, so that years after your grandfather's death, whenever you smell that same wretched bait, you are transported right back onto the boat with your grandfather, and feeling the same feelings of happiness and well-being.
Smell is a very powerful thing. I first became interested in how dramatically smells can affect us when my son was diagnosed with Sensory Integrative Dysfunction Disorder several years ago. For him, one of the manifestations of the disorder was a hyper-sensitivity to smells. He had, at one point, gone into an inexplicable, uncontrollable rage with no apparent provocation. Hours later, we discovered that the scent of burning popcorn had been the cause of his distress, sending him into a fight-or-flight mode. (Remember how close the olfactory bulb is to the amygdala? That's the part that controls responses like aggression and fear - see the connection?)
Later, when he was having trouble sleeping, his occupational therapist suggested we try lavender oil in a diffuser to help calm him down at night. We were skeptical at first, thinking it was just some sort of New Age hippie bunk, but even we could not deny how well it worked as we watched him sleep through the night for the first time in months. Indeed, the sense of smell is very powerful, powerful enough not just to elicit memories, but also to have an impact on our responses.
But parents of children with sensory disorders are not the only ones picking up on how powerfully our sense of smell affects our behavior. Marketers are learning quickly how to manipulate our habits through creating what they call "scent environment" (although Abercrombie & Fitch still hasn't figured out that overwhelming scents can actually drive some would-be shoppers away).
A quick search online yields more than one million hits under the term "Scent Marketing". There are "Scent Institutes", "Scent Seminars", "Scent Universities", "Scent Expos", and more, all designed with the purpose of teaching companies how to "...promote the benefits, awareness and value of scent marketing in business and society" (www.scentmarketing.org).
Because the sense of smell is so powerful, it is a little unnerving to think of companies specifically designing "scent environment" in an attempt to manipulate our behavior. I'd like to think they just like to make the stores smell nice for us, but it's all going to be about trying to manipulate our behavior. It's not a new concept, designing an environment to try to entice consumers to respond in a positive way, but given the power of our sense of smell, it's a little unsettling to think of how strong a reaction they may elicit with just a subtle shift of scent.
Not everyone may respond as intensely to smells as my son (or as I did in that store last week), but the fact remains that we humans are physiologically programmed to respond, (largely involuntarily) to the smells around us, simply because of the proximity of our olfactory systems to our "Emotional Nervous Systems".
For me, that might just mean that I smell Mrs. Field's cookies and I'm suddenly ravenous, or that I smell Polo cologne and I'm suddenly nauseated. For my son, well, I might just have to place a clothespin in his pocket for emergency situations - in case someone burns the popcorn again.
Like This Article?
Follow:
Post Comment