Phineas Gage: A Gruesome but True Story about Brain Science Book

I'd never heard of Phineas Gage until I read The New England Grimpendium. Even though he is a hella famous local boy and trailblazer-by-accident in the study of neuroscience, he wasn't trotted out in grade school classrooms to gross out the kids while teaching them important stuff at the same time. Which boggles the mind because it's a highly effective way to instruct. C'mon, teachers. GET WITH THE PROGRAM. Does America want more brain scientists? Then teach them about Phineas Gage when they're 10. Voilà.

On September 13, 1848, while blasting through granite bedrock in order to lay railroad tracks, Phineas Gage - foreman on the job - made an error with the explosive and his 3 1/2 foot tamping rod shot through his cheek, behind one eye and up through his frontal lobe.



It landed 30 feet away, covered with blood and brains. Miraculously, he was able to get up, walk, talk, joke, and recount the whole affair lucidly. He was treated by a local doctor to the best of the man's ability and fought off a raging staph infection, which was treated by bleedings, emetics, and purgatives. Poor Phineas. The fact he had a hole in his skull no doubt saved him from dying from the massive concussion.

He recovered within months, but he was never the same again. The formerly reliable and friendly young guy became shiftless, restless, rude, and unpredictable. It was like he lost his inhibitions and filter.

He swore in front of ladies. *gasp*

He only seemed to get along with children and animals, and he eventually went to Chile to drive stagecoach (though there is still no solid evidence to back up this bit of lore) and then died in San Francisco after suffering a long series of epileptic seizures at the age of 36 in 1860.


I will never not re-post this image.


I believe that picture was taken quite a while after the accident. He's fleshed out and looks more irascible, as if his personality change has taken a physical toll.

The book strikes a balance between gleeful gore and basic introductions to the various fields of science that touch on the Gage case. It's been a long while since I was in a biology classroom, so I found those sections as interesting as the biographical details about Gage himself. But by the end, I was wishing it was longer, more detailed. There's a full-length popular history that could be written around this event, if it's possible to make neuroscience more accessible in layman's terms.

Written for middle schoolers, but suitable for anyone with an interest in strange-but-true stories.


Most visited exhibit in the museum, for good reason.