By love-89.com Some of molecular paleontologist Alexandra Morton-Hayward’s ancient brains. (This image was edited to add a composite element.) Photograph: Alicia Canter/The Guardian
**Unlocking the Secrets of Ancient Brains: An Interview with Alexandra Morton-Hayward**
By Kermit Pattison
October 22, 2024
Alexandra Morton-Hayward, a 35-year-old former mortician turned molecular paleontologist, found herself behind the wheel of a rented Vauxhall, driving across three countries. As she traversed the plains of Belgium, a torrential storm erupted, transforming the vibrant green fields of Flanders into a blurry gray haze. In the backseat, a small, black picnic cooler waited to be filled with something extraordinary—human brains that had gazed upon this very landscape since medieval times, remarkably preserved through the ages.
Morton-Hayward explains that, for centuries, archaeologists have stumbled upon ancient skeletons that typically lack all soft tissue except for what she gleefully calls “a brain rattling around in a skull.” At Oxford University, where she’s pursuing her doctorate, she has amassed the world’s largest collection of ancient brains, some dating back as far as 8,000 years. Endless reviews of scientific literature have led her to catalog over 4,400 preserved brains, some as old as 12,000 years. With cutting-edge technologies like mass spectrometry and particle accelerators, Morton-Hayward is on a mission to uncover the molecular mysteries that allow certain human brains to endure longer than Stonehenge or the Great Pyramid of Giza.
“This research might reveal secrets not only about the past but also about present-day brain health,” she suggests. “The molecular processes that damage our brains during life could somehow contribute to their preservation after death, which could reshape our understanding of aging and neurodegenerative diseases.”
On that stormy day, Morton-Hayward was embarking on a quest to retrieve 37 brains recently unearthed from a medieval graveyard in Belgium. Her demeanor exuded warmth and humor, even when discussing the dissection of cerebral matter. Gory scenes don’t shock her; after working in the funeral industry, she handled countless corpses without flinching, even while engaging in friendly conversation with her colleagues.
As rain lashed harder against the windshield, Morton-Hayward’s pace slowed. A creeping sense of dread loomed—she refers to this sensation as “the werewolf.” Flushing, she lifted her hand off the wheel to pat her cheek. “I can feel my face getting hot,” she murmured. “I need some medication.” This internal storm was triggered by her nightly battle with cluster headaches, described as excruciating enough to leave sufferers wishing for an end. “In that sense, I’m always aware of my brain. Sometimes it feels worse than the ones I study in the lab,” she admits.
Normally, our brains are fragile organs. Without a blood supply, they begin to degrade within minutes, followed by a series of decay processes that typically leave behind only empty skulls. Yet against all odds, some brains have survived for thousands of years without embalming or freezing—an astonishing phenomenon that scientists have slowly started to recognize.
At her lab in Oxford, Morton-Hayward’s collection spills from two refrigerators into takeaway containers and plastic bags, and she even rents extra storage for additional specimens. She has taken precautions to preserve her collection, buying a generator after a mishap in Florida once destroyed a similar cache of ancient brains due to a power outage in 1986.
Over the past five years, Morton-Hayward has gathered over 600 brains from global sources, including a treasure trove of 450 from a cemetery in southwest England and specimens from a mass grave believed to house victims of a yellow fever epidemic. Some of her samples tell heartbreaking stories—many come from individuals who faced tragic ends in mass graves or mental institutions.
Her fascination with the brain took root at a particular moment in her life—when her own brain began to betray her. While studying archaeology at the University of St Andrews, she developed debilitating headaches that were eventually diagnosed as Chiari malformation, prompting surgery. Unfortunately, the pain persisted, followed by the relentless onset of cluster headaches. “They affect everything I do,” she confesses.
Overcoming her struggles, she worked various jobs until she found her calling in a funeral home. “It was the most enjoyable work I’ve ever had,” she reflects. “I started thinking about the connection between death and our understanding of memory.”
Emboldened by her resurrection as a student, she eventually enrolled in online courses to finish her degree and graduated with honors. Following that success, she entered a master’s program in bioarchaeology and forensic anthropology at University College London. “I got tired of burying people; I wanted to start digging them up,” she laughs.
It wasn’t long before she discovered something remarkable. During her graduate studies, she learned about the preservation of brains—something strictly contrary to what she had absorbed from her time in the funeral business.
In an unexpected twist, the arc of her research intersected with the work of Sonia O’Connor, an archaeologist who uncovered preserved brains in medieval graves during a dig in Hull in 1994. None of the soft tissues usually found in bodies remained—except for the brains. Morton-Hayward was captivated.
As O’Connor’s discoveries gained credibility, they caught the attention of neurologists. They began to explore whether any proteins comparable to those found in living brains could help explain this mystery. The research eventually linked the discoveries to her current work on ancient brains.
Morton-Hayward’s journey has been fraught with challenges. “The work she does is remarkable,” said Erin Saupe, an Oxford professor of paleobiology. “She continues to find joy in discovery despite the hurdles she’s faced.”
Though ancient brains may appear damaged at first glance, under the microscope, remnants of neurofilaments can be observed, suggesting they hold clues to their longevity. Morton-Hayward employs mass spectrometry to probe the amino acids and proteins that endure in these ancient tissues.
Through it all, Morton-Hayward embodies resilience. Despite her persistent pain, she forges ahead. “I try to tell her to rest, and she replies that she has a Ph.D. to finish!” chuckled her fiancé, Richard Thomas.
Morton-Hayward recently published her groundbreaking findings in the *Proceedings of the Royal Society B*, sparking media interest worldwide, including major news networks. “It’s wonderful to see this field gain traction,” said O’Connor, thrilled by Morton-Hayward’s progress.
With her research evolving and fresh queries emerging, Morton-Hayward drives through stormy weather to collect more brain specimens. After her recent trip to Belgium, she stands poised to unravel the nuanced history embedded within these ancient remains, driven not only by scientific curiosity but by her unyielding spirit—a blend of personal struggle and professional dedication shaping her journey in the world of molecular paleontology.