Astral Codex Ten

chronic traumatic encephalopathy

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chronic traumatic encephalopathy

Article

chronic traumatic encephalopathy is a recurring concept in the Astral Codex Ten archive, appearing 2 times across 2 issues between June 03, 2022 and August 14, 2025. The archive places it in contexts such as “cognitive decline and mood disorders from chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE)”; “distinct human tauopathies, including chronic traumatic encephalopathy”. It most often appears alongside 18th century, A Eunuch’s Dream, A. Bejanin.

Metadata

  • Category: Concepts
  • Mention count: 2
  • Issue count: 2
  • First seen: June 03, 2022
  • Last seen: August 14, 2025

Appears In

Source Context

Recovered passages from the original issue text. When the raw archive preserved outbound links inside the source passage, they are listed directly under the quote.

Your Book Review: The Castrato
June 03, 2022 · Original source
To me, this sounds suspiciously like American football (also boxing/MMA, though perhaps to a slightly smaller extent). Socioeconomic distress? Check—extreme poverty and high rates of local violence are not uncommon in the childhoods of many elite football players. Severe biological modification (with severe health consequences for some) and a lifetime of rigorous training? You betcha. For even the freakiest freaks of nature, making it to the NFL requires near constant exercise and practice. In place of hormone modification through castration, football players modify their hormone levels through nutrition, HGH supplementation, and anabolic steroids. All of this to play an incredibly violent game that causes acute damage—broken bones, ligament tears, concussions, paralysis, and even death—and lasting damage to one’s body and brain. Rise to fame and fortune for a chosen few? Out of the approximately one million high school football players in the United States, 6.5% earn a college scholarship and about 0.1% make it to the NFL and less than half of those individuals stay in the league beyond year 4. For every millionaire star athlete, there are countless stories of people whose only “earnings” from their playing career are debilitating injuries and chronic pain. Patronage by the rich and powerful? The people who own NFL teams and pay player salaries are some of the wealthiest people in the world. A sad or unfulfilling end to life? Retirement from the NFL is notoriously difficult for many athletes, not least because of the chronic pain (often leading to opiate or alcohol addiction) or cognitive decline and mood disorders from chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE).
Inline links: death, Out of the approximately one million high school football players, wealthiest people in the world, Retirement from the NFL is notoriously difficult for many athletes
In Defense Of The Amyloid Hypothesis
August 14, 2025 · Original source
Overproduction or reduced clearance due to microbial infection. Amyloid-β appears to be an antimicrobial peptide and will form plaques in response to infection. [2, 3] This explains various observations that have been used to support the “infectious hypothesis”, sometimes proposed as an alternative to the amyloid hypothesis. However, it can only explain a subset of cases and, as I argue below, is even then still mediated by amyloid via an “IATN” pathway: infection → amyloid → tau → neurodegeneration. In cases of increased production, cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) will show elevated amyloid. In cases of reduced clearance, amyloid will decrease in CSF. In all cases, however, PET scans will show elevated brain amyloid, usually at first mainly in “intrinsic connectivity networks” such as the default mode network [14–20], which experience brain activity even at rest. These neurons are the most active - which causes more production and possibly less opportunity for clearance - so they tend to be the first to suffer from a production/clearance imbalance. Over time, amyloid pathology spreads spatially throughout the brain. [14, 18] Aggregations of amyloid peptides induce more such aggregations. Some of our clearest evidence for this comes from growth hormone deficiency patients, who used to have cadaver-derived ground-up brain matter injected into their own brains to provide the missing hormones. If the ground-up brain matter was sourced from the corpse of an Alzheimer’s patient, the growth hormone deficiency patients would themselves develop Alzheimer’s at a young age, probably through prion-like spread of the misfolded proteins. [21, 22] After ∼15 years of preclinical spread, the pathology eventually covers the whole brain. [14, 18] While some subtle cognitive impairment may occur during this time, it is usually not severe enough to be clinically detectable from amyloid alone. Indeed, in both humans [23–30] and mice [31–35], the severity of neurodegeneration and cognitive deficits is not a good spatiotemporal match for the severity of amyloid pathology (rather, it is a good match for the severity of tau pathology; see next section for more). These facts are often suggested as evidence against the amyloid hypothesis. However, amyloid is causally upstream of tau, as I will argue below. Therefore, the existence of cognitively normal individuals with amyloid pathology is expected in the ATN model - but typically only for a few decades, before progression to the next stage. 2: Tau pathology (T) and neurodegeneration (N) Tauopathies are a range of prion-like diseases involving the tau protein [36], whose usual function is to assist in stabilizing microtubule structure. In a tauopathy, the tau protein misfolds, and induces other, nearby tau proteins to misfold into the same shape. [37–46]. Injecting nothing but misfolded tau fibrils into a mouse brain can recruit the endogenously-produced mouse tau into this pathology, which spreads far beyond the injection site, causing neurodegeneration wherever it goes. [35, 47–59] There are at least eight distinct ways the tau protein can misfold in human disease [36], and over a dozen distinct human tauopathies, each involving a specific one of those misfoldings. These include chronic traumatic encephalopathy, Pick’s disease, corticobasal degeneration, progressive supranuclear palsy, and Alzheimer’s disease, with the last by far the most common. Each of these five diseases has its own distinct tau fold. Most normal human beings eventually develop some tau pathology in adulthood, originating probably in the locus coeruleus [60–62], which is part of the brainstem. By middle age, some amount has usually spread to the hippocampus and entorhinal cortex in the medial temporal lobe, regions responsible for episodic memory. This is called primary age-related tauopathy (PART) [63], and has its own tau fold which is distinct from most tauopathies, but the same as Alzheimer’s. [36, 64] Usually, its local severity is mild and it doesn’t spread much beyond those regions. But with sufficient amyloid pathology, this “normal” tau pathology tends to both locally worsen and spread through the rest of the brain [65], becoming the tau pathology of Alzheimer’s. Some genetic risk factors such as ApoE, in addition to affecting the clearance of amyloid-β, also increase the brain’s susceptibility to this A → T pathology conversion [66, 67]. But this is a matter of degree, as sufficient amyloid pathology seems to virtually guarantee the transition: Every 10-centiloid increase in amyloid pathology for a cognitively normal individual increases by 2.7x the probability of a PET scan detecting pathological levels of tau within five years [68]. The only known cases where patients with extremely high amyloid levels can go significant amounts of time without developing tau pathology are a few individuals with extremely rare protective genes, known only from a few case studies, e.g. [69]. Even in these instances, the individuals will eventually succumb to the tau phase, suffering neural atrophy and dementia. [70] After it forms, the tau pathology no longer appears to require amyloid’s assistance to keep spreading (although amyloid may still accelerate it). This probably explains why existing anti-amyloid therapies have been only ∼30% effective in test patients, who are usually late in the amyloid → tau progression even if early in having symptomatic disease. Neurodegeneration follows tau pathology extremely closely in time and space, in humans as well as basically all animal models, and cognitive impairments match the functions of the affected regions. There are rare reports of advanced tau pathology without cognitive decline, often in people with protective ApoE2 alleles [71], but even then, systematic analysis finds that actual density of tau inclusions is highly predictive of cognitive impairment, and that these exceptional cases usually involve widespread but locally sparse pathology [66]. The regional distribution of tau pathology explains why the first symptom of Alzheimer’s is typically impaired memory; the first cortical sites affected are usually in regions involved in memory formation. As the pathology spreads, further regions are affected, until eventually all cognitive functions are affected. As with most other aspects of the disease, the high-level picture seems relatively clear but the exact cellular and molecular pathways are not well understood (though may involve an assist from the innate immune system, especially microglia and astrocytes. [13, 35, 72]) Early Alzheimer mouse models were amyloid-only, with extremely heavy overproduction of Aβ, much more than required to recapitulate the human disease, and apparently enough to cause detectable cognitive dysfunction. However, normal mice do not get age-related tauopathy, so an amyloid-only mouse model - while useful for investigating certain questions - is not a full Alzheimer’s disease model. Combined amyloid+tau pathology mouse models, which are transgenically modified and/or injected with misfolded human tau fibrils, display the property that the presence of amyloid pathology induces the worsening and spreading of tau pathology. This is also observed in vitro in human cells. How do we know the amyloid causes the tau? Researchers have measured the correlation in many ways, from the spatiotemporal timeline (tau pathology only begins locally worsening and spreading outside the medial temporal lobe once amyloid reaches sufficient severity) [65], [98], to causal mediation modeling in the human disease [26], [99–101], to causal intervention using in vitro human cell studies [54, 102] and animal models [35, 55], [103 – 113]. But also, giving people drugs that reduce amyloid levels also decreases tau pathology. [78, 80, 82] (I’ve left out or merely alluded to much other complexity, involving the innate immune system, lipid processing, and detailed molecular and cellular mechanisms, preferring to focus on the parts of the story which are crucial to deciding the causal role of amyloid, and for which I am aware of a satisfactory account from the literature. But I don’t intend to leave the impression that the above is all there is to Alzheimer’s disease, or that all cases progress in the same exact way.) The mechanistic claims I make the following two claims about amyloid-β’s role in Alzheimer’s: Amyloid deposits are a necessary (i.e. but-for) cause in all instances of Alzheimer dementia. That is, if someone has PET or CSF positivity for amyloid and tau pathologies, and the tau pathology involves the Alzheimer tau fold and made its first cortical appearance in the medial temporal lobe, and then they developed medial temporal volume loss + amnestic mild cognitive impairment + later dementia, then counterfactually, early enough (probably ∼15 years before clinical presentation) causal intervention solely to remove the amyloid deposits would have prevented almost all tau pathology and symptoms.
Inline links: below, probably through prion-like spread of the misfolded proteins, 10-centiloid, have been, the presence of amyloid pathology induces the worsening and spreading of tau pathology
[39] A. L. Woerman et al., “Tau prions from Alzheimer’s disease and chronic traumatic encephalopathy patients propagate in cultured cells,” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, vol. 113, no. 50, pp. E8187–E8196, Dec. 2016, doi: 10.1073/pnas.1616344113.
Inline links: 10.1073/pnas.1616344113