One of the first courses in medical school is gross anatomy. We pay respect to the person who donated their body—someone with a life, loved ones, a history. We are grateful. It is also a complex emotional experience—existential, personally challenging, an abrupt shift from academics to life-and-death. At some point during that course, we dissect the head, and hold the brain, reflecting on the person’s life. For many physicians, that moment changes something. The mind, whatever else it is, has a brain. The brain has a mind. These two conceptualizations are much closer to one another than many people—including many therapists—would prefer to acknowledge. Does the Brain Matter in Therapy? In psychoanalytic circles, I’ve often observed a remarkable resistance to neuroscience—not healthy skepticism, but something closer to avoidance, though the discipline of neuropsychoanalysis, pioneered by Mark Solms and colleagues, represents an important counterpoint. I’ve been told flat-out by esteemed colleagues that they don’t care about neuroscience or think it has any relevance—an expression, perhaps, of personal philosophies, ways of coping with life’s travails, or inexperience …