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Few medical practices in human history are quite as disturbing as the lobotomy. What began as a curious experiment on two unusually content chimpanzees would spiral into a full-blown psychiatric movement, one that promised relief from mental torment but often delivered silence, emptiness, and irreversible loss.
Born in an era when mental illness was poorly understood and brutally stigmatized, the lobotomy emerged not simply as a treatment, but as a reflection of a society desperate to manage issues beyond their understanding, even at great cost.
At the heart of this story are doctors who believed they were curing suffering, institutions eager for solutions, and countless individuals (many of them voiceless) who were subjected to an irreversible procedure without fully understanding its consequences. Intrigued? Click through this gallery to see how this controversial procedure came to be.
In 1935, American neurophysiologist John Farquhar Fulton made headlines with startling research: when he removed the frontal lobes of two chimpanzees, their frustration and anxiety were entirely erased. Fulton’s assistant claimed they seemed like new members of a "happiness cult," surprisingly calm and content.
Although the chimps became unnaturally peaceful, the procedure stripped them of certain cognitive abilities. This loss, however, did not discourage Portuguese neurologist António Egas Moniz, who saw it as a minor price to pay for what appeared to be endless happiness.
Inspired by Fulton's results, Moniz proposed extending the procedure to humans. He believed that by mimicking this brain alteration in people, it might be possible to treat (and potentially cure) various forms of mental illness.
Moniz’s vision gave rise to one of the most divisive medical interventions of the 20th century: the lobotomy. While grounded in therapeutic intentions, this approach would leave a trail of controversy, lasting consequences, and irreversible trauma.
During the early 20th century, the medical field had not yet mapped the complex landscape of mental illness. Conditions we now recognize as distinct were often lumped together or misunderstood entirely, which allowed radical theories to flourish unchecked.
Moniz theorized that mental illness resulted from negative ideas becoming "fixed" in the brain's connecting fibers, especially those linking the thalamus in the center and the frontal lobes. These regions play key roles in emotion and sensory processing.
Based on his belief, Moniz proposed that cutting these neural fibers could disrupt harmful thought patterns and emotional dysfunction. This concept led directly to the creation of his infamous surgical procedure: the prefrontal lobotomy.
The original lobotomy involved drilling holes into the patient’s skull and severing white matter pathways between the prefrontal cortex and the rest of the brain. It was a bold, invasive attempt to surgically treat psychological disorders.
Moniz’s colleagues were skeptical of his approach. Psychoanalysts and psychiatrists, who favored talk therapy and non-invasive treatments, viewed the lobotomy as an extreme, almost reckless way to treat mental illness.
Despite criticism, Moniz pressed forward, performing lobotomies on 38 patients suffering from conditions like schizophrenia, depression, and anxiety. His rapid experimentation would become foundational in the history of psychosurgery.
Moniz quickly published his findings, claiming that about two-thirds of his patients became calm and cooperative, with reduced hallucinations. These preliminary results, though poorly detailed, were accepted as evidence of the surgery’s efficacy.
At the time, psychiatric success was largely measured by behavior. Tranquility and docility were seen as recovery signs, so Moniz’s lobotomized patients were considered “better,” even if they suffered from personality loss or diminished function.
Moniz’s announcement triggered widespread praise. Newspapers hailed the lobotomy as a breakthrough, celebrating its supposed ability to bring peace to troubled minds. This glowing reception helped cement the procedure’s popularity.
In recognition of his work, Moniz was awarded the Nobel Prize in 1949. His technique gained particular traction in the United States, thanks to neurologist Walter Freeman and neurosurgeon James Watts, who became its most vocal champions.
By the 1930s and '40s, nearly half a million Americans had been institutionalized for mental illness. Hope grew that lobotomies might allow many to return to society and live more manageable lives outside asylums.
Unfortunately, prevailing social norms defined “normal” behavior rigidly. Many people were institutionalized not due to illness, but simply for defying gender roles, sexuality norms, or other societal expectations. This made some lobotomy patients victims of bias, not medicine.
As a result, numerous lobotomy recipients had no mental illness at all. Some were subjected to the procedure solely for being deemed socially undesirable or “unmanageable.” At the time, vulnerable individuals were particularly at risk for misuse of such surgery procedures.
The effects of lobotomies varied wildly. For some, symptoms improved; for others, the outcomes were devastating. There was no reliable timeline or consistency in how (or even if) the procedure would work for each patient.
One of the most famous lobotomy cases was Rosemary Kennedy, sister of future President John F. Kennedy. After her prefrontal lobotomy in 1941, she was left permanently unable to walk or speak clearly. Due to her condition, Rosemary remained institutionalized for the remainder of her life before she died in 2005 at the age of 86.
Even when lobotomies appeared to control hallucinations or intense emotions, the side effects were often life-altering. Many patients became apathetic, lost motivation, or experienced major personality changes and cognitive decline.
Because mental illness was deeply stigmatized, families often stayed quiet about failed lobotomies, much like in the case with the Kennedy family. This silence prevented critical conversations about the procedure’s failures, and allowed its continued use despite growing evidence of harm.
Prefrontal lobotomies required skilled surgeons and specialized tools, which meant only a fraction of elite patients had access. But this limitation would soon change due to the innovations of a determined doctor.
In 1945, Walter Freeman developed the transorbital lobotomy, which was cheaper, faster, and far simpler. Patients were first knocked unconscious with electroshock, then an ice pick-like device was inserted through the eye socket to sever brain fibers.
This new method allowed physicians without surgical training to perform a lobotomy in just minutes. Freeman believed this democratization of psychosurgery could bring the treatment to hospitals and clinics everywhere, bypassing traditional barriers.
Freeman demonstrated his efficiency dramatically by performing 228 transorbital lobotomies in only 12 days at one hospital. His speed and confidence astounded onlookers, but also drew sharp criticism from fellow medical professionals.
James Watts, Freeman’s longtime partner (pictured), strongly opposed the simplified version. He worried that reducing such a consequential surgery to a crude routine invited disastrous outcomes and enabled reckless use by untrained hands.
Despite criticism, the transorbital lobotomy spread across the Western world. Doctors adopted it for its affordability and convenience, though concerns over ethics, consent, and long-term results (and damage) remained largely unaddressed during its rise.
By the 1950s, new tranquilizing medications emerged, offering safer and more reversible ways to manage psychiatric symptoms. These drugs began to replace lobotomies as the preferred treatment for mental health conditions.
Though lobotomies began with a desire to help, their disastrous results show how scientific ambition (when left unchecked by ethical reflection) can become dangerous. Today, the lobotomy is a powerful reminder of medicine’s dark chapters, and it urges us to remain vigilant and ensure that future innovations genuinely serve the people they aim to heal.
Sources: (TED-Ed) (Britannica) (WebMD) (Medical News Today)
See also: How to tell your brain is aging faster
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LIFESTYLE Medicine
Few medical practices in human history are quite as disturbing as the lobotomy. What began as a curious experiment on two unusually content chimpanzees would spiral into a full-blown psychiatric movement, one that promised relief from mental torment but often delivered silence, emptiness, and irreversible loss.
Born in an era when mental illness was poorly understood and brutally stigmatized, the lobotomy emerged not simply as a treatment, but as a reflection of a society desperate to manage issues beyond their understanding, even at great cost.
At the heart of this story are doctors who believed they were curing suffering, institutions eager for solutions, and countless individuals (many of them voiceless) who were subjected to an irreversible procedure without fully understanding its consequences. Intrigued? Click through this gallery to see how this controversial procedure came to be.