Monday’s Philadelphia Inquirer brought a small item that described the results of research exploring the connection between childhood music lessons and long-term brain health. The headline caught my eye because I could relate to it. When I saw “Those clarinet lessons helped you tune up for your later years,” I had no practical choice but to keep reading. Why? When I was a child, my father taught me to play the clarinet. Or perhaps I should say that he tried to teach me. I made progress, but certainly not to the level that would open the doors to any concert hall. Part of my failure to progress competently was my resistance to what I perceived as an irrelevant instrument in the days when playing guitar – especially electric guitar – seemed to be the gateway to success in a variety of venues. My father would have nothing of rock music. * * * I, however, long ago abandoned the clarinet, though I still own several. I did not abandon my love of music, and dabble with keyboards, though quite inadequately.Note that I suggested both “Certainly more research is in order,” and “What I prefer to see is an appropriately conducted study.”
So this Philadelphia Inquirer story suggested that I might owe my father an apology. According to the report, researchers examined 70 adults with similar levels of education and fitness, and who had no symptoms of Alzheimer’s disease. The adults were give a battery of cognitive tests. Who scored the best? Those with ten or more years of musical training. Who scored the lowest? Those with no musical training. Those running the study want to do more research, to determine if the cognitive performance enhancement is caused by the music lessons or by some other factor.
The lead research tossed out an idea that I found quite plausible. “Since studying an instrument requires years of practice and learning, it may create alternate connections in the brain that could compensate for cognitive declines as we get older.” If that indeed is the case, then would not the same cognitive achievement be attained by other endeavors requiring years of practice and learning? Certainly more research is in order.
So where does tax fit in? Two questions pop into my brain. Do years of practice and learning involving tax have the same effect as years of practice and learning involving music? Do years of practice and learning involving music make a person more proficient in learning tax? When I was a student in the basic federal income tax course, the professor often referred to “music majors” as a stereotype of students he expected to struggle in the course. Yet, my years of teaching have taught me that music majors do well in tax law. Though I’ve not conducted any empirical or laboratory research, I have convinced myself that the reason rests on the number of shared characteristics between music and tax law. Both require attention to detail. Both require careful reading. Both emphasize the need to recognize and apply patterns and sequences. Both are highly structured. Both are, to some extent, mathematical. Both involve interpretation. Both require precision. Both require the learning of a new language. The only difference between music and tax law that I could find has nothing to do with the learning process. Music makes almost everyone happy. That cannot be said about tax law.
This isn’t my first foray into the connections between tax and cerebral characteristics. Not long ago, in The Tax Brain, I asked:Is there such a thing as a tax brain? Is there something to be said for the fact that most tax practitioners are proficient in semantic language processing and arithmetic calculation? Are there areas of a tax person’s brain that are larger or smaller than the typical brain, or that show higher or lower levels of activity? Are the brains of tax professionals awash with dopamine or with noradrenaline?Now, to that list of questions, I add, “Do musicians and tax professionals find themselves in the same part of the intellectual family tree?” Perhaps a more important question is this: “Do tax professionals face a lower risk of cognitive decline as they get older?” There are plenty of anecdotes that I could share. What I prefer to see is an appropriately conducted study.
Today Reader Morris referred me to that fourteen-year-old commentary and directed my attention to two studies. The first, Education, occupational complexity, and incident dementia: A COSMIC collaborative cohort study, concludes that “The meta-analytic results indicated that both education and occupational complexity were independently associated with increased dementia-free survival time, . . .” The study did not dig to the granular level of analyzing the various complex occupations to determine whether tax professional and music professionals have different outcomes with respect to dementia-free survival time, let alone the many other complex professions in which people engage. Nor did the study explore – as it was not designed to focus on – the physical and neurological impact on the brain of engaging in music or tax for long periods of time at a more than superficial level.
The second study, described in this report, looked at the connection between occupations and Alzheimer’s disease (AD). In short, “Researchers have found that the risk of death due to AD is markedly lower in taxi and ambulance drivers compared with hundreds of other occupations. And the reason could be that these drivers develop structural changes in their brains as they work.” This difference did not show up when testing for dementia other than AD. The study suggested that perhaps the reason for this outcome is that ambulance and taxi drivers need to use “real-time spatial and navigational skills” in their jobs. Yet persons in other occupations requiring these skills, such as aircraft pilots and ship captains, not only did not experience the same low incidence of AD but “had some of the highest rates of death due to AD.” Bus drivers also did not benefit but fell within the average rate of death due to AD.
The study questions, “And why aren't bus drivers, pilots, and ship captains similarly protected? The study authors suggest these other jobs involve predetermined routes with less real-time navigational demands. Thus, they may not change the hippocampus as much.” I think there is something else involved. I see a difference between ambulance and taxi drivers on the one hand and bus drivers, aircraft pilots, and ship captains on the other, and I wonder if it matters. The former interact with their passengers (consider that ambulance drivers also function as EMTs) whereas the latter don’t interact or if they do, they interact infrequently and with less depth. Other studies, such as New Studies Suggest Social Isolation Is a Risk Factor for Dementia in Older Adults, Point to Ways to Reduce Risk, and Being Social May Delay Dementia Onset by Five Years, suggest that continued social engagement tends to lower dementia risk whereas it increases in older people who are isolated and have little or no social interaction.
And that brings me back to tax and music. Musicians engage in social contact, not only with other members of a chorus, orchestra, or band, but also with audiences, fans, promoters, agents, stage hands, and the entire array of people who interact with the performers. What about tax professionals? Despite the perception that “tax geeks” sit alone immersed in reading the Internal Revenue Code as a novel (though I did do that, years ago), tax professionals interact with clients, with co-workers, with other professionals, with federal, state, and local tax collectors and auditors, with employees, and sometimes with judges. Is this social interaction of sufficient amount? Can it be measured and compared to the social interaction of musicians and persons in other occupations? Perhaps these questions will be the subject of future studies.