Man walking past invisible bodies. Photo: Getty Images
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Scientists suggest invisibility as a cure for anxiety

Neuroscientists have made the surprise discovery that the sensation of invisibly reduces responses to anxiety.

Have you ever felt fear and anxiety from standing in front of a large audience and giving a speech? Or how about having to get up in class and talk to other students? While it's normal in situations like these to wish for the ground to swallow you up, some scientists have suggested a slightly different remedy for anxiety - invisibility.

Invisibility has long featured in myths and fiction, but several advances in material sciences have demonstrated that the cloaking of large (living) objects - just like how the invisibility cloak works in Harry Potter - is becoming a realistic prospect. In the field of material sciences, the general concept of invisibility cloaking is actually fairly simple.

Theoretically, all that's needed is a material that guides visible light (or another wave, like EM waves or heat fluxaround an object, and anything within the gap it leaves will be rendered "invisible" to someone standing at the light source:

Light moves around the object (or person) as though it isn't there. Image: Trevor Johnston/

In practice, this is hard to achieve, as most naturally occurring materials reflect light, cast shadows and produce a reflection. However, hi-tech and exotic materials called "metamaterials" have made light bending possible. (Although latest research suggest that ordinary lenses can do just the trick!)

H G Wells, a man ahead of his time, wrote the The Invisible Man in 1897. The novel is about a protagonist who invents a method to change the human body’s refractory index to that of the air, rendering it invisible. (The twist comes when he performs the method on himself and can’t reverse it - but that’s beside the point.) The refractive index is the ratio between how light passes through a vacuum, and how it passes through any other medium; it’s the reason a spoon will look bent when placed in a glass of water. If water has a negative refractive index, the spoon would look as though as was bending back on itself instead.

In a recent paper in Scientific Reports, graduate students Arvid Guterstam and Zakaryah Abdulkarim and their advisor Henrik Ehrsson, a neuroscience professor at the Karolinska Institutet in Stockholm, said they believe invisibility cloaking of the human body is a thing of the future, and believe it’s high time we delve into what it feels like to be invisible.

To do this, Guterstam, Abdulkarim, and Ehrsson used virtual reality. In one of their experiments, 23 people were provided with a set of head-mounted displays (HMD), and were asked to look at their feet. The experimenter - Abdulkarim - stroked their arms, legs, and torso with a paintbrush with one hand, and at the same time, made identical motions with a second paintbrush with the other hand, on an invisible body or a mannequin. A pair of downward-facing cameras that were either mounted on a tripod or on the head of a mannequin sent a real-time video feed to the participants HMDs, giving them the sensation of being invisible, or making a body swap with a mannequin:

Study co-author Zakaryah Abdulkarim (middle) creates the invisible body illusion on a participant (left) wearing a set of head-mounted displays connected to a pair of cameras. Photo: Staffan Larsson

Here's the surprise: after finishing with the paintbrush, each participant slowly lifted their gaze through their HMDs to find that they were being watched by a scornful-looking audience (consisting of 11 scientists instructed to stare at the participant). Quite creepy, and perhaps enough to through most people off - however, on a 100-point scale, participants reported their stress level as about 25 per cent lower, on average, when in a state of invisibility, and about a third less than in the mannequin version. The state of invisibility also lowered heart rates by a few beats per minute, suggesting that stress is intertwined with physiology.

The researchers write: “Our results demonstrate that healthy individuals can experience the illusion of owning an invisible full body." They suggest their results could spur on better a design for virtual-reality based therapies for social anxiety, and may also help give neuroscientists gain new insight into phantom limb illusions.

Tosin Thompson writes about science and was the New Statesman's 2015 Wellcome Trust Scholar. 

Azeem Ward
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Living the Meme: What happened to Azeem Ward and his flute?

In the first of a new series investigating what happens to people after they become memes, we speak to Azeem Ward, whose flute recital went viral in 2015.

The Sixties had Woodstock. The Nineties had Lollapalooza. The Tens – and, if we’re being honest, just a single year of them – had Azeem's Senior Flute Recital.

If you were inactive on the internet between 12 and 16 May 2015, you’ll be forgiven for not knowing who Azeem Ward is. After setting up a Facebook page for his end of year flute performance, the University of California student was inundated with over 100,000 RSVPs from the United Kindom, along with multiple requests to fly to England and play (for no apparent reason) Darude’s “Sandstorm” in Nando’s. After international news coverage, Ward – as all memes inevitably do – appeared on Jimmy Kimmel Live! to discuss his newfound fame. On 16 May, he had to turn hordes of people away from the 500 seat recital hall, and over 55,000 individuals tuned into a livestream of the event. Then, Ward disappeared. Not from social media, and not from the world, but from the internet’s collective consciousness.

Search interest in "Azeem Ward" over time

“I’d say no,” answers Ward, when I ask him whether, one and a half years later, he still receives any special attention or has any fan interactions. “I’m just regular Azeem now, and I’m okay with that. Regular me is a more focussed person that is not reacting to things that are happening around me.”

Ward is Skyping me from his home in Iowa, where he is getting his master’s degree in flute performance. He spends his time composing flute beatbox songs, learning how to produce music, and teaching a class on flute fundamentals at the university. “A lot of [the students] here in Iowa know what happened but they don’t go like: ‘Oh my God! It’s Azeem!’. It’s just like, ‘Hey, what’s up man? I saw that one thing about you on Jimmy Kimmel’.”  

The original Facebook event page

Ward regained his anonymity when he moved to Iowa, as many of his fellow undergraduate students in California recognised him because he was on the local news. “But the whole viral thing was a UK thing,” he explains, “It wasn’t really around the whole US.”

An Azeem meme

Four months after his famed flute recital, Ward did come to the UK and toured the country to perform as part of various university freshers’ weeks. “That was a crazy time,” he says, “I was over there for five weeks and played 22 shows in 12 different cities, all the way from London to Scotland.” His concerts were popular, though most people came to take a selfie or ask about how the recital happened, and only a few wanted to talk to him about music. Still, Ward profited from the events. “We did make some pretty good money," he says, admitting he earnt around $5,000. 

Despite clearly enjoying this time, Ward seems unfazed that his viral fame is now over. His only regrets, he says, are that he didn’t make any connections in the music business while in the UK, and that he didn’t have any social media accounts set up before he went viral, so there was nowhere for people to go to listen to his music. “When you go viral people hold onto that rather than taking you seriously as a musician,” he says. “Sometimes it annoyed me but sometimes I realised that I wouldn’t be there in the first place if it wasn’t for going viral.”

Azeem now, photo courtesy of Azeem Ward

So what advice would Ward give to the next person who finds themselves, unwittingly, the object of the internet’s affection?

“I'd say don't lose sight of what you've already been doing in your life, like keep your focus. I'd say that sometimes in your head you're like ‘Oh man, I have to do this now’, but you've just got to stay focussed on your goals. When you have your own path and you go viral you have a lot of people asking you to do all these different things. It was pretty intense – I’m not used to having a lot of people look at me and my actions, so I was pretty anxious at first. In the end I realised that I came to do what I came to do, and I had to go do it.”

Although Ward doesn’t miss being internet-famous, it is clear that going viral had an impact on him. He recalls the peak of the madness with telling clarity, sharing specific details such as "256 people” clicked attending in "four hours", and “then 512”, before 12,000 people RSVP’d overnight. Mostly, however, he seems very grounded, though he acknowledges it was “out of control” and “really crazy”.

Perhaps Ward feels this way because he received little in the way of negativity or hate. He fondly discusses memes that were created and art that was drawn about him, and the support of his family and friends. “Even though there were a lot of silly things going on, I managed to make it positive for the school,” he says. “I had no haters. Everyone was like ‘Damn, Azeem. Good job, man’.”

One day, Ward hopes to come back to London, although he is wary of returning. Not because of his viral fame, nor the number of selfies he might have to take with Nando's customers, but because of Brexit. Our conversation, like all post-June conversations, turns swiftly to the topic, and Ward asks me about the economy. “I was thinking about trying to do a doctorate over in London, but if things aren't going to be so good in a few years...” 

Ward admits he wouldn’t be bothered if he never went viral again. “When I think of something going viral, I think it has a point in time where there’s so much interest and then it goes away. I’d like to produce material and the attention to keep going up.” So do you want to be famous, I ask? “Do I really want to be famous?” he ponders. “Being famous is okay, I guess. But I want to be is respected and appreciated.”

To listen to Azeem’s music visit or Like his Facebook page.

To suggest an interviewee for Living the Meme, reach out to Amelia on Twitter.

Amelia Tait is a technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman.