IF contemplative neuroscience · 15 min read · 3,000 words

Richard Davidson's Laboratory: How One Neuroscientist Built the World's Premier Contemplative Science Center

In 1992, Richard Davidson was already an established affective neuroscientist at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, known for his work on emotion and the brain. He had published in top journals.

By William Le, PA-C

Richard Davidson’s Laboratory: How One Neuroscientist Built the World’s Premier Contemplative Science Center

Language: en

The Man Who Was Told to Bury His Best Idea

In 1992, Richard Davidson was already an established affective neuroscientist at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, known for his work on emotion and the brain. He had published in top journals. He had grants, graduate students, a respected lab. And he had a secret — a personal meditation practice he had maintained since his graduate school years at Harvard in the 1970s, when he had traveled to India and Sri Lanka to study Vipassana meditation with Goenka and other teachers.

Davidson kept his meditation practice separate from his science. He had to. When he mentioned his interest in studying meditation to his graduate advisor, the response was blunt: if you want a career in neuroscience, do not go near that topic. Meditation was considered fringe, unscientific, associated with hippies and New Age mysticism. A serious researcher did not risk professional credibility by studying monks sitting with their eyes closed.

So Davidson studied emotion, lateralization, and the neural bases of affective style — legitimate, respectable topics. He published well over 200 papers. He became tenured. He built a large, well-funded laboratory. And for twenty years, the most important question in his mind — what does long-term contemplative practice actually do to the brain? — remained unasked in any formal scientific context.

The turning point came when the Dalai Lama said something to him in a private meeting that Davidson later described as the most important question anyone had ever asked him. The Dalai Lama had been explaining that Buddhism had spent 2,500 years developing sophisticated technologies for training the mind — techniques for cultivating compassion, emotional regulation, attentional stability, and insight into the nature of consciousness. Then he turned to Davidson and asked: “You have been using the tools of modern neuroscience to study depression, anxiety, and fear. Why can you not use those same tools to study kindness and compassion?”

Davidson was stunned. Not because the question was complicated, but because it was so obvious. He had been studying the pathology of the mind for decades — what goes wrong — while ignoring the most ambitious human experiments in what goes right. The contemplative traditions had produced individuals who, by all accounts, exhibited extraordinary levels of emotional regulation, compassion, equanimity, and well-being. And neuroscience had never bothered to look at their brains.

Davidson decided to look.

The Lutz Study: The Experiment That Changed Everything

The paper that cracked the field open was published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (PNAS) in November 2004. Its title was understated: “Long-term meditators self-induce high-amplitude gamma synchrony during mental practice.” Its implications were seismic.

Antoine Lutz — who had been Francisco Varela’s student before Varela’s death in 2001 and had continued the neurophenomenological tradition in Davidson’s lab — was the lead author. The study design was simple but powerful: compare the brain activity of long-term Buddhist meditators (averaging approximately 10,000 to 50,000 hours of practice, including several who had completed traditional three-year retreats) with age-matched control subjects who had received one week of basic meditation instruction.

Both groups were asked to practice compassion meditation — the specific technique of generating a state of unconditional loving-kindness and compassion for all beings — while wearing dense-array EEG caps with 256 electrodes recording electrical activity across the entire scalp.

The results were unlike anything previously observed in the neuroscience literature.

Gamma oscillations. The long-term meditators showed massive increases in gamma band oscillations (25-42 Hz) during compassion meditation. Gamma waves are the fastest brain waves, associated with higher-order cognitive processing, binding of information across brain regions, conscious awareness, and “aha” moments. The amplitude of gamma activity in the meditators was the largest ever reported in healthy non-pathological subjects — far exceeding anything seen in normal waking consciousness, task performance, or even other altered states.

Gamma as a baseline. Even before meditation began — during the initial resting baseline — the experienced meditators showed significantly higher gamma activity than controls. This suggested that thousands of hours of meditation had not just created a temporary state but had permanently altered the brain’s resting activity. The meditators’ brains were different even when they were not meditating.

Ratio of gamma to slow oscillations. The ratio of gamma to slower theta activity (4-8 Hz) was dramatically elevated in meditators and correlated with the number of hours of lifetime practice. More practice, more gamma. This was the first clear dose-response curve for meditation — evidence that contemplative practice produces cumulative, measurable changes in brain function proportional to the amount of practice.

Neural synchrony. The gamma oscillations in experienced meditators were not localized to one brain region but were synchronized across widespread cortical areas. This global neural synchrony — large-scale coordination of activity across the brain — is considered a marker of integrated, highly organized consciousness. The meditators’ brains were not just more active; they were more coherently organized.

The paper was published in PNAS and immediately became one of the most cited studies in contemplative neuroscience. It demonstrated three things that the field had never before established with such clarity: (1) long-term meditation practice produces measurable, dramatic changes in brain activity; (2) these changes are not just state effects (present only during meditation) but trait effects (present even at rest); and (3) the magnitude of change is proportional to the amount of practice — a dose-response relationship that is the hallmark of a genuine training effect.

Building the Center for Healthy Minds

The Lutz study was not an endpoint but a beginning. Davidson used its impact — and the growing scientific and public interest in meditation — to build something unprecedented: a world-class research center dedicated entirely to the neuroscience of well-being and contemplative practice.

The Center for Healthy Minds at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, which Davidson directs, is now the largest and most productive contemplative neuroscience lab in the world. It occupies over 20,000 square feet of research space, employs more than 100 researchers, and operates multiple neuroimaging suites, including a dedicated 3-Tesla MRI scanner, high-density EEG systems, and a specialized meditation research room designed to minimize electromagnetic interference.

What makes the Center unique is not just its technology but its methodology. Davidson built the lab around the neurophenomenological approach that Varela had pioneered — the idea that studying meditation requires not just brain scanners but trained contemplative practitioners who can serve as both research subjects and expert consultants on the inner dimensions of practice.

The Center maintains relationships with major Tibetan Buddhist lineages, including direct collaboration with the Dalai Lama’s office. Matthieu Ricard, Mingyur Rinpoche, and other highly experienced meditators have served as research subjects, bringing tens of thousands of hours of practice into the laboratory. These are not merely subjects being scanned — they are expert collaborators who help researchers understand what the neural data means from the inside.

The research agenda is broad. The Center studies:

Neural correlates of different meditation practices. Different techniques — focused attention (shamatha), open monitoring (vipassana), compassion (tonglen/metta), non-referential awareness (dzogchen/mahamudra) — produce distinct neural signatures. Davidson’s lab has mapped these differences with unprecedented precision, showing that meditation is not a single thing but a family of practices with different mechanisms and different effects.

Neuroplasticity from contemplative practice. The Center has documented structural brain changes from meditation, including increased cortical thickness in areas associated with attention and interoception, increased gray matter density in the hippocampus (memory and emotional regulation), and changes in white matter connectivity between brain regions. These structural changes — the brain physically reshaping itself in response to mental training — are among the most compelling evidence for meditation’s effects.

Well-being as a skill. Davidson’s most provocative claim is that well-being is not a fixed trait determined by genetics and circumstances, but a skill that can be trained — like learning a musical instrument or a language. The neural circuits underlying well-being (emotional regulation, positive affect, attentional stability, generosity) are plastic. They change with practice. And the Center’s research provides the evidence base for this claim.

Clinical applications. The Center develops and tests meditation-based interventions for depression, anxiety, PTSD, chronic pain, addiction, and other conditions. These are not generic “mindfulness” programs but precision interventions designed based on specific neuroscientific findings about which contemplative practices affect which neural circuits.

The Four Pillars of a Flourishing Mind

Davidson’s research has converged on a framework for understanding well-being in neuroscientific terms. He identifies four neural circuits — four “pillars” — that constitute the neural architecture of a flourishing mind. Each can be measured, each can be trained, and each corresponds to a specific dimension of contemplative practice.

Awareness. The capacity to sustain focused attention and meta-awareness — knowing what your mind is doing while it is doing it. Neural substrate: dorsolateral prefrontal cortex, anterior cingulate cortex, and attentional networks. Trained by: focused attention meditation (shamatha), mindfulness practice. The research shows that even modest meditation training (8 weeks of MBSR) produces measurable improvements in sustained attention and meta-awareness, with corresponding changes in prefrontal activation patterns.

Connection. The capacity for empathy, compassion, and positive social engagement. Neural substrate: insula (empathy), temporal parietal junction (perspective-taking), ventral striatum (reward from altruistic behavior), and medial prefrontal cortex (mentalizing). Trained by: compassion meditation (metta, tonglen, karuna practices). Davidson’s lab showed that just two weeks of compassion meditation training (30 minutes per day) produced measurable changes in brain function and increased altruistic behavior in a laboratory economic game (Weng et al., 2013).

Insight. The capacity for self-knowledge — understanding your own mental patterns, narrative habits, and the constructed nature of your self-concept. Neural substrate: default mode network, medial prefrontal cortex, posterior cingulate cortex. Trained by: open monitoring meditation (vipassana), self-inquiry, and analytic meditation practices that investigate the nature of self.

Purpose. The capacity to maintain a sense of meaning, direction, and coherence in life — to connect daily actions with deeper values. Neural substrate: ventromedial prefrontal cortex, nucleus accumbens (intrinsic motivation), and reward circuits that respond to value-congruent behavior. Trained by: contemplative practices that involve intention-setting, dedication of merit, and reflection on one’s deepest values.

These four pillars provide a neuroscientific framework for understanding what contemplative traditions have always taught: that the mind can be trained, that training produces real changes in the brain’s structure and function, and that these changes correspond to increased well-being, resilience, and capacity for compassionate engagement with the world.

Altered Traits: The Book That Reframed the Field

In 2017, Davidson co-authored Altered Traits: Science Reveals How Meditation Changes Your Mind, Brain, and Body with Daniel Goleman (the psychologist known for Emotional Intelligence). The book represented a deliberate effort to separate the signal from the noise in meditation research — to distinguish what the science actually shows from what the hype claims.

Davidson and Goleman were unusually qualified for this task. Both had been meditators since the 1970s. Both had serious scientific credentials. And both were concerned that the explosion of interest in mindfulness was producing two problems: overstated claims about what meditation could do, and dismissive skepticism from scientists who equated meditation with pseudoscience.

The book introduces a crucial distinction that has reframed the field: the difference between altered states and altered traits.

Altered states are temporary changes in consciousness produced during meditation — the bliss, the clarity, the sense of spaciousness, the dissolution of self-boundaries. These states end when the meditation session ends. They are real, they are measurable, and they are not permanent.

Altered traits are lasting changes in the brain and behavior that persist between meditation sessions — increased baseline compassion, improved emotional regulation, greater attentional stability, reduced reactivity to stress. These traits develop gradually through sustained practice and, once established, are present continuously — not just on the cushion but in every moment of daily life.

The book’s central argument is that what matters about meditation is not the altered states it produces (however extraordinary those states may be) but the altered traits it cultivates. The goal of contemplative practice is not to have peak experiences during meditation but to become a different kind of person all the time — more compassionate, more aware, more emotionally regulated, more present.

Davidson and Goleman organize the evidence by level of practice:

Beginners (hours to weeks of practice) show temporary state effects — reduced anxiety during and shortly after meditation, improved mood, better attention. These effects are real but modest and often fade without continued practice.

Long-term practitioners (thousands of hours) show emerging trait changes — reduced amygdala reactivity to emotional stimuli, increased cortical thickness in attention-related regions, faster recovery from stress, enhanced compassion responses. These changes persist between meditation sessions and represent genuine neuroplastic reorganization.

“Olympic-level” practitioners (tens of thousands of hours) show dramatic trait changes — the massive gamma oscillations documented in the Lutz study, extraordinary emotional regulation, reduced default mode network activity even at rest, structural brain changes visible on MRI. These individuals’ brains are measurably different from those of non-meditators in ways that correspond to the qualities described by contemplative traditions — equanimity, compassion, clarity, and presence.

The Mingyur Rinpoche Studies

Among the most remarkable research conducted at Davidson’s lab involves Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche, a Tibetan Buddhist teacher who began intensive meditation training at age nine and has accumulated over 62,000 hours of lifetime practice. Mingyur Rinpoche has participated in multiple studies at the Center, providing a window into what the brain looks like after decades of intensive contemplative practice.

In a 2007 study, Mingyur Rinpoche demonstrated the ability to voluntarily activate specific neural circuits — producing massive gamma oscillations on command, modulating activity in emotional processing areas, and showing levels of neural coordination that researchers described as “off the charts.” His control over his own brain activity was comparable to what might be expected from a concert pianist’s control over finger movements — a level of neural mastery that reflects decades of deliberate practice.

In 2016, Davidson’s lab published a study examining Mingyur Rinpoche’s brain aging using structural MRI. The remarkable finding: Mingyur Rinpoche’s brain appeared eight years younger than his chronological age by standard neuroanatomical aging metrics. His brain showed less gray matter loss, preserved cortical thickness, and maintained structural integrity in regions that typically deteriorate with age. This was among the first evidence that intensive meditation practice might slow brain aging — a finding with profound implications for cognitive health and longevity.

The Mingyur Rinpoche studies illustrate Davidson’s conviction that the most experienced meditators represent a kind of “limit case” — an existence proof of what the human brain can become through sustained contemplative training. Just as studying Olympic athletes reveals the ceiling of physical performance, studying Olympic-level meditators reveals the ceiling of mental training.

From “You Can’t Study That” to Most-Cited

The arc of Davidson’s career illustrates a transformation in science itself. In the 1970s, he was told that studying meditation would end his career. By 2006, Time magazine named him one of the 100 most influential people in the world. His Google Scholar profile shows over 90,000 citations across more than 500 publications. The Center for Healthy Minds has received over $100 million in funding from the National Institutes of Health, private foundations, and individual donors.

More importantly, Davidson’s work has shifted the Overton window of legitimate neuroscience. Topics that were considered unacceptable for serious researchers — meditation, compassion, well-being, contemplative practice — are now among the most active areas of neuroscience research. PubMed indexes thousands of meditation studies. Major medical schools teach mindfulness. The National Institutes of Health funds contemplative research. Insurance companies cover mindfulness-based interventions.

This transformation did not happen automatically. It happened because Davidson and his colleagues did what Varela had advocated: they brought the full rigor of modern neuroscience to bear on contemplative practice, using advanced neuroimaging, large sample sizes, active control groups, pre-registered hypotheses, and the kind of methodological precision that earns publication in Science, Nature, and PNAS.

The engineering metaphor captures it precisely. Davidson’s lab functions as a reverse-engineering facility for the brain’s wetware. Where most neuroscience labs study the brain’s failure modes (disease, injury, dysfunction), the Center for Healthy Minds studies the brain’s optimization protocols. Meditation is not mysticism in Davidson’s framework — it is a systematic training protocol for neural circuits, with predictable dose-response curves, identifiable mechanisms of action, and measurable outcomes. The contemplative traditions have been doing bioengineering for 2,500 years. Davidson’s contribution was to prove it with brain scanners.

The Revolution Continues

Davidson’s work is far from complete. Current research at the Center includes:

Large-scale longitudinal studies tracking meditators over years to understand the long-term trajectory of contemplative neuroplasticity — how trait changes develop, stabilize, and potentially plateau.

Precision contemplative interventions — designing meditation-based treatments matched to specific neural circuit dysfunctions in individual patients, analogous to precision medicine in pharmacology.

Meditation and education — studying how contemplative training affects children’s developing brains, with school-based programs now reaching thousands of students.

The neuroscience of kindness — Davidson’s most recent focus, extending the compassion research to understand how pro-social traits are cultivated, maintained, and transmitted across social networks.

The man who was told he could not study meditation built the world’s greatest meditation research lab. The question the Dalai Lama asked — why not use neuroscience to study kindness? — became a research program that has generated thousands of data points, trained hundreds of scientists, and fundamentally changed our understanding of what the human brain can become.

The contemplative traditions always said that the mind can be transformed through practice. Davidson proved it with evidence that even the most skeptical materialist cannot dismiss. The brain is not fixed. It is trainable. And the training protocols developed by meditators over millennia produce measurable, dramatic, and lasting changes in the brain’s structure and function.

The hardware can be upgraded through disciplined use of the software. That is what Davidson’s lab has shown, and it is one of the most important findings in the history of neuroscience.