What if we could modify or even completely erase painful, sad, or traumatic memories? While this concept currently belongs to the realm of science fiction, advances in science may soon make memory modification possible. Yet, experts remain divided on one fundamental question: could the potential benefits of altering memories outweigh the risks involved?

On a cold, grey morning of February 14, feeling the sting of loneliness more acutely than ever, Joel Barish makes an impulsive decision that is uncharacteristic for someone whose life follows a rigid, monotonous routine. Instead of heading to work, he boards a commuter train bound for Montauk beach, where he meets Clementine. A romance begins to blossom, though neither of them suspects that they have met before—and that they once knew each other well enough to want to forget it ever happened.

Joel and Clementine had a stormy romance that ended when they stopped seeing each other’s strengths and began focusing only on each other’s irritating flaws. Both suffer in their own ways from the breakup, yet the introverted Joel appears to be more affected than the exuberant and impulsive Clementine. It is no surprise, then, that Joel feels hurt and angry upon learning that Clementine has erased him entirely from her mind, with the help of technicians at an obscure company called Lacuna. Determined to make the same move, Joel seeks out the services of the same firm. It’s February, the Valentine’s Day season—a busy time at Lacuna—but Joel manages to secure an appointment with Dr. Mierzwiak, the creator of the memory-erasing procedure.

Dr. Mierzwiak walks Joel through the process, explaining that he must gather all the items that remind him of Clementine. By analysing the brain’s activity as Joel views each item, the technicians will map out where memories of his former partner reside in his brain. Using this map, they will systematically erase each memory of Clementine, all in a single night.

While Joel sleeps in his bed under the watchful eye of Lacuna’s technicians, he relives each memory of Clementine just as it is erased from his mind. The process begins with the most recent—and painful—memories and moves backward to the first time they met.

As each memory surfaces only to be erased forever, Joel realises he doesn’t want to lose these fragments of his past. Desperate to hold onto what remains, he tries to hide memories of Clementine in obscure corners of his mind. Faced with unexpected technical difficulties caused by Joel’s frantic attempts to preserve his memories, the technicians call in Dr. Mierzwiak, who skillfully hunts down and eliminates every trace of Clementine from Joel’s life.

It’s been 20 years since the release of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, a film that won an Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay. Half drama, half comedy, this sci-fi film raises a compelling question: how soon—and with what implications—could memory modification become a scientific procedure, perhaps even a routine one, as common as a dental extraction?

Progress in developing techniques for modifying unpleasant memories

One memory-editing technique researchers are exploring is decoded neurofeedback, or DecNef, which gathers brain data via a scanner and feeds it to an AI decoder. The decoder pinpoints areas of the brain that activate when specific memories are recalled.

In a later phase, researchers monitor these brain regions while patients practise controlling the emotional impact of recalled stimuli. DecNef holds promise for conditions like phobias and traumatic memories, allowing partial modification of mental representations without full awareness. This feature also presents ethical vulnerabilities, necessitating oversight by ethics committees, neuroscientist Aurelio Cortese says.

A small-scale British study has suggested that sleep, combined with auditory cues, could weaken specific memories. Although still in early stages, the researchers hope that sleep could be manipulated to not only strengthen but also reduce recall capabilities. Additionally, recent experimental research has shown that inhibiting a memory-regulating enzyme in rodents lessened their ability to form lasting memories of fearful events. Future studies could pave the way for drugs that, if administered shortly after a traumatic event, might prevent or diminish the formation of distressing memories.

Experiments on snails have suggested a potential method for erasing anxiety-provoking or intrusive memories associated with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Research conducted by scientists at Columbia University Medical Center and McGill University showed that it’s possible to isolate and possibly erase a memory tied to a specific event. Notably, even if this memory is stored within the same neuron as another indirectly related memory, the latter remains unaffected.

Neurobiologist Joe Tsien from the Medical College of Georgia discovered a possible method for erasing unwanted memories. In his experiments on mice, Tsien found that by adjusting levels of a protein called CaMKII while a mouse actively recalls an experience, certain memories could be erased without harming the brain or impacting other memories.

The neurologist doubts that similar results could be achieved with the human brain, given its incredible complexity, but acknowledges he would not be surprised to see this accomplished within his lifetime.

“All memories, including the painful emotional memories, have their purposes. We learn great lessons from those memories or experiences so we can avoid making the same kinds of mistakes again, and help us to adapt down the road,” he says.

Unpleasant memories and the implications of erasing them

The debate over the potential and implications of altering memories, should this become reality, is rich with solid arguments from different, though not necessarily opposing, perspectives. In extreme cases, it’s well-known that some people become unable to cope with certain memories; this constant intrusion of the past prevents them from moving forward in their lives as they normally would.

Steve Ramirez, a researcher at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, looks forward to the day when memories can be manipulated: “I see a world where we can reactivate any kind of memory we like, or erase unwanted memories. I even see a world where editing memories is something of a reality. We’re living in a time where it’s possible to pluck questions from the tree of science fiction and ground them in experimental reality.”

A sufficiently advanced technology could achieve feats that seem impossible now, says Ramirez, pointing to ideas like constructing memories “from scratch,” reading someone’s thoughts by observing neural activity, reconstructing or modifying dreams, and even implanting false memories (a procedure already tested on flies and rodents). Naturally, legislation would need updating to prevent misuse, but Ramirez remains optimistic about the potential of memory-shaping research to benefit patients. Ethical decisions, he says, won’t lie solely with researchers; as a society, we all will face important choices in a not-so-distant future.

Researcher Sheena Josselyn is among those scientists who believe they are nearing a point where they can help former soldiers or others haunted by distressing memories to release the fear tied to their past—or perhaps even free them from those painful memories altogether. Although she knows this type of research is met with scepticism, Josselyn is committed to alleviating the suffering caused by traumatic recollections. In her view, the techniques she’s developing aim for outcomes similar to cognitive therapy. In fact, some argue that cognitive therapy itself rewires the brain’s circuitry, while memory-editing techniques aim to achieve the same result, just through different methods, Josselyn says.

While stopping suffering is a worthy goal, Francoise Baylis of Dalhousie University argues that people should be taught to become stronger by learning to manage their fears. If we erase memories, we also erase the emotions that define who we are, ultimately losing a vital part of our identity, Baylis says.

Often, trauma isn’t even the result of a single event, says Mark Henick, head of the Canadian Mental Health Association. “How do you erase a lifetime? A relationship? How do you erase someone’s father from their lives? Or you look at intergenerational trauma in Aboriginal communities — how do you erase someone’s ancestry?”

Using memory-modification technology might enhance a person’s well-being and should be permitted if it doesn’t harm others, says S. Matthew Liao, director of New York University Center for Bioethics. Still, Liao warns, the greatest risk of using such technology is self-harm. Once we forget our tragedies and past sufferings—assuming they could even be erased, despite the memories of those around us—might we fall victim to false versions of reality? Erasing memories doesn’t change what we know about who we are, where we come from, or the lessons we’ve learned that might help us when we face similar challenges in the future.

Finally, he questions, does our duty to remember outweigh our right to forget (to quote the title of an article published in 2019)? Liao underscores that some things, both for ourselves and for society, we have an obligation to remember (for instance, a Holocaust survivor’s memories).

Some specialists who treat individuals with post-traumatic stress disorder are also concerned about the consequences of erasing memories. Adversity plays a crucial role in our development, says psychologist Vivien Lee, noting that many people grow from trauma, emerging as stronger versions of themselves. Lee worries, too, that if these techniques become available, people may be tempted to use them to escape any negative memory.

In Michel Gondry’s film, Joel asks whether erasing memories of Clementine will harm his brain, to which Dr. Mierzwiak replies that memory erasure itself constitutes an injury. This may be one of the most enduring messages of a sci-fi film from two decades ago—that in seeking ways to avoid suffering, we may end up with wounds whose depths we can barely fathom. 

Carmen Lăiu is an editor of Signs of the Times Romania and ST Network.