Strobilo is a company that combines neuroscience and environmental data to study the relationship between human beings and the Planet, and how to improve it.
When he founded Strobilo a few years ago, he did so first and foremost to change his own life; and secondly, to use neuroscience to reconnect human beings with their ancient roots and make a difference by saving the Planet. An ambitious goal? Perhaps, but in the meantime, Andrea Bariselli, psychologist and neuroscientist, is trying to do his part. We spoke with him on the occasion of the Edible planet summit, a summit on sustainable food systems that brought together 150 experts from around the world, at which Nicoletta Crisponi, open innovation & communication manager of LifeGate Way, was also present.
Strobilo's operating model is based on the ability to bring together, within a single platform, data from human beings — gathered via electroencephalogram — and environmental data, read through a device of its own making, so as to produce a detailed snapshot of reality: the starting point for correcting anomalies or redesigning the spaces of the future.
Can you explain in a few words what Strobilo is?
We could describe it as a health & climate tech company that uses the most advanced neuroscience techniques to understand the relationship between us and the environment. Drawing on environmental data — not merely theoretical estimates — we generate predictive algorithms capable of imagining what kind of effect certain changes will have on human beings. In this way we can suggest the direction in which to channel investments that will benefit both ourselves and the Planet.
Could you give some practical examples of what you do?
One of the most interesting applications we have worked on is the school environment. We installed devices of our own making in a school that measure around fifteen different components, from CO2 to volatile compounds, as well as temperature and humidity. We didn't just assess air quality; using neuroscience techniques, we tried to understand how air quality determines students' learning capacity, obtaining information that can be useful, for example, to those who design schools.
What we are discovering, looking at the problem of CO2 from our perspective, are the so-called neurotropic effects — that is, the cognitive decline that CO2 causes in human beings, which is far worse than we had imagined.
Can neuroscience techniques also find application in the food sector, to support the transition towards sustainable agri-food systems?
Absolutely. The agri-food sector is closely linked to the environment. It is fundamental for us to understand, for example, how we can facilitate all those farming practices — such as regenerative agriculture — that are capable of sequestering carbon and reducing environmental impact.
Through our work, we also participate in the Mediterranean Mind Lab in Pollica: our role there is to identify the endemic factors of the Mediterranean diet that have made it somehow unique. It's not just a matter of analysing individual foods, but also everything that occurs at a certain latitude, with a certain climate and following a certain lifestyle. The goal is to be able to export this dietary model and replicate it in other parts of the world.
Some years ago, in America, I conducted tests comparing industrially processed foods with unprocessed foods grown sustainably. The results showed that people's brains had recognised the superior quality of unprocessed, fresh, organic foods: in this case, then, the task is to re-educate people whose palates have been contaminated for too long by excessive consumption of foods high in salt, additives and so on.
Still on the subject of food, last September you took part in the Edible planet summit, a summit on sustainable food systems that brought together experts from around the world. What topics did you discuss?
We talked about many things — for example, why climate change communication works so poorly. Part of the answer lies in a neurochemical mechanism that prevents us from feeling empathy towards ourselves when we imagine ourselves in the future; in other words, I cannot feel sorry for myself thinking of myself ten years from now with water levels half a metre higher. It is a biological legacy we carry, which is why the image of a polar bear on a melting sheet of ice does not produce a real effect on us. We therefore need to work on these mechanisms in order to generate effective storytelling.
On the subject of food security, we discussed how human beings function far better in small communities than in large agglomerations, and therefore the failure of the city model, which is unable to guarantee, for example, one hot meal a day for everyone. In small communities there is a different level of solidarity, sharing and relationship with the external environment.
Another problem, in my view, is precisely that everyone talks about the environment, yet many people don't even spend half an hour a day outdoors: many people go to the office, read books, attend forums, yet the park is empty, the woods are empty. We also need to make the effort to find this connection with the environment in order to feel a genuine sense of protection towards the Planet.
However, it is not simply a matter of educating and empowering citizens: the issue of curbing CO2 emissions to counter global warming is central, yet last year 69 fossil fuel extraction sites were opened, with an impact that no one who chooses to cycle to work or turn off the tap while brushing their teeth can offset.
What is the greatest contribution you dream of making to the ecological transition through your work?
I greatly enjoy "dissemination" — that is, talking about our work — because science too, when explained in simple, curious, engaging language, can be a tool for sparking change in someone. I would like what we do to be a contribution to a collective effort moving in that direction.