Most people know me as the Orangutan Dad—recognized for my pioneering work teaching sign language to orangutans in Borneo during the late 1970s. But long before I was tracking great apes through the peat swamps of Kalimantan, I was immersed in another kind of wild terrain: the untamed frontier of the human brain.
In early 1970, as a student at Sierra College, I became fascinated with the idea that we could learn to control our own brainwaves. Back then, biofeedback was a fledgling field, buzzing with experimental curiosity and DIY spirit. I had recently begun practicing Transcendental Meditation—thanks in part to the influence of the Beatles—and was intrigued by how internal states like calm and focus might be measured, and even trained.
So I did what any curious, underfunded student might do: I built my own rudimentary biofeedback system. Using RadioShack parts, a borrowed amplified physiological monitor from the Human Physiology class, an analog filter tuned to the alpha frequency (8–13 Hz), and a homemade Faraday cage to block electrical interference, I began experimenting with ways to isolate and enhance alpha wave activity. I even recruited fellow students as subjects, helping them learn to access that meditative, alert-yet-relaxed brain state. We weren’t neuroscientists—we were just young people trying to understand how to quiet the mind.
Eventually, my academic focus shifted to marine biology and I became student director of Sierra College’s Marine Lab. But my interest in brain science didn’t disappear—it just went dormant. Until it resurfaced in a big way.
Alpha Waves Revisited: The Fresno State Study
After transferring to Fresno State University, I found myself drawn once again to the mysteries of the brain. Around the same time, I was also embarking on a very different—but equally transformative—experience: working with Aazk, a young orangutan at the Fresno City Zoo. My goal was to teach her symbolic communication using colorful symbols (actually plastic children's letters), and it was through this early work with Aazk that my fascination with great ape intelligence first took root.
By day, I was observing and communicating with one of our closest relatives (and taking graduate classes). By night—and in the university lab—I was training human participants to enter calm, meditative states through alpha wave entrainment. Looking back, I realize now that these two seemingly different paths—ape language research and brainwave self-regulation—were deeply connected by a common theme: the development of conscious control and intentional communication.
In 1975, I co-authored a study with Larry Rouse and John Peterson that quietly pushed the boundaries of non-pharmaceutical treatments for mental and neurological conditions.
We wanted to investigate whether combining alpha-frequency binaural beats (two different tones played in each ear to create a perceived beat frequency) with alpha biofeedback could help people generate more alpha waves—and feel more relaxed in the process.
We recruited sixty undergraduate and graduate students and divided them into four groups:
All participants engaged in a 20-minute relaxation exercise modeled on Herbert Benson’s relaxation response, keeping their eyes open throughout the session to standardize visual input.
The results were remarkable.
All groups—even the controls—showed increased alpha wave production and reported feeling more relaxed. But the group exposed to both binaural beats and biofeedback saw the greatest gains. Nine out of fifteen participants in that group reported being able to consciously control their alpha wave production by focusing on the auditory beats.
This was an early demonstration of what we now recognize as neuroplasticity—the brain’s ability to adapt and self-regulate in response to focused attention and feedback.
A Closer Look: Seizures, Spectra, and Self-Regulation
Among our study participants were individuals with a history of epilepsy. Some of these individuals experienced not just subjective calm but measurable changes in their EEG profiles. Those who successfully enhanced their alpha activity shifted from a bimodal distribution of brainwave activity—a potential marker of neural dysregulation—to a more normalized unimodal pattern. This shift was accompanied by a reduction in seizure frequency, suggesting that alpha entrainment could stabilize the excitability of cortical networks.
At the time, we didn’t have the language for what we were seeing. But today we might call it a form of non-invasive neuromodulation.
Unfortunately, our small but promising study was soon drowned out by the rising tide of anti-seizure medications (ASMs). These drugs, such as valproate, levetiracetam, and lamotrigine, offered rapid relief from seizures—but often at a cost. Many caused cognitive fog, mood swings, and severe depression. In fact, depression was so common that patients were frequently prescribed antidepressants to manage it—a feedback loop that ironically increased seizure risk over time.
While Big Pharma advanced, the quieter, gentler path of neurofeedback was pushed to the margins.
A Revival—and a Reckoning
Now, decades later, something has shifted. Roughly 30% of epilepsy patients remain drug-resistant, and many others suffer from long-term side effects of ASMs, including birth defects and drug interactions. There's growing skepticism about overmedication and the ethics of pharmaceutical marketing, especially after billion-dollar settlements for companies that promoted drugs for off-label or unproven uses.
As a result, we’re seeing renewed interest in non-pharmacological approaches—like neurofeedback, alpha entrainment, and sensorimotor rhythm (SMR) training.
And the research is catching up:
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✅ Efficacy: Neurofeedback has been shown to reduce seizure frequency, improve attention, and lower anxiety—without systemic side effects.
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✅ Safety: These interventions are ideal for populations vulnerable to the risks of drug therapy, such as children and pregnant women.
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✅ Affordability: Especially in low-resource regions, the cost-effectiveness of neurofeedback makes it a compelling alternative.
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✅ Ethics: As public trust in the pharmaceutical industry wanes, people are seeking transparent, evidence-based care.
Our early work didn’t become mainstream, but it helped lay the groundwork for a larger paradigm shift—one that’s finally beginning to materialize.
Mindfulness Through Method
Looking back, I see strong parallels between that early brainwave research and my later work with orangutans. In both realms, I was exploring how minds—human or nonhuman—can develop conscious control over internal states. Whether it's a person learning to regulate their alpha rhythms or an orangutan using sign language to express a need, both represent what I’ve come to think of as mindfulness through method.
It’s a reminder that not all healing comes from a pill. Sometimes, with patience, practice, and a little feedback, we can tap into the brain’s natural ability to heal itself.
And while I may have shifted from oscilloscopes to orangutans, the spirit of inquiry remains the same.
If you’re curious about alpha entrainment, neurofeedback, or the quieter paths to brain wellness, I invite you to continue the conversation. Sometimes, the answers we’re seeking are already inside us—waiting for the right signal to bring them into focus.
—Dr. Gary Shapiro
