Reply

Taking a middle stance is risky. We are accused to be neither fish nor fowl. A middle stance involves necessarily countering, at least in part, assumptions made (and data obtained) in research by less ‘middle stance’ positions. But a middle stance, Aristotle said, contains the truth more than an extreme stance, especially in an area of investigation in which research is strong in both extreme camps. Our arguments are based both on logical grounds, and on existing data. The logical arguments, appreciated by some (Nachson et al., Mangiulli et al.) and considered partially flawed by others (Patihis & Felstead, Markowitsch & Staniloiu, but for opposite reasons), highlight that often, in psychology at least, one takes for granted the definition/meaning of the main concepts under study. We tend to operate within our own rather narrow area of investigation, in which we all implicitly share the meaning of the constructs used. This is possibly also visible in our paper, in which we tried, within the limited space, to provide evidence that a middle stance is worthwhile. The data considered in our paper also have been both praised and subjected to criticism. Decisions on the areas to consider and on the specific papers/results to mention is not easy, especially in a short paper. This is particularly true when several highly established areas of investigation exist on the same topic, especially when these areas use the same terminology while implicitly referring to partially different constructs and processes. The attempt to integrate research from psychology using behavioural, psychophysiological and basic biological methods requires to move across different levels of description and explanation of a phenomenon, and this is not straightforward. After this general premise, we briefly reply to each specific commentary received, mentioning just some arguments we are in agreement with or that we find more difficult to accept. Nachson's and our papers seem to be mostly in line with each other (we assure we did not talk beforehand). Nachson's however also points out that our proposed (but very temporary) solution to the debate might just bring the conversation to ‘square one’, as the typical debate focuses on memories of sexual abuses, which are clearly highly arousing negative experiences. We beg to differ, as our work in the forensic field has shown us that the emotional impact of such experiences (when real) is actually highly varied. And our claim is exactly that: yes, there is adequate evidence to show that highly traumatic (but again, this remains a slippery concept) experiences determine a cascade of physiological events that can at times block the memory and at times make the memory highly retrievable. A decent middle ground, according to Patihis, is what we propose. Yes, but decent middle grounds are really useful for the development of science, in as far as they promote breaking ideological trenches and bridging areas of investigation that typically do not talk to each other. Patihis claims that a memory special status includes also later access to an extraordinarily good memory of the same ‘forgotten’ event (a memory often—too often, unfortunately—used in legal cases). This is correct. In a very interesting legal case, a 25-year-old woman in therapy slowly remembered in minute details (e.g. conversations) almost every day between the age of 9 and 14, in a 1000-page narrative. Memory for age 8 and before, and age 15 and after, was normal. Her claim was that, having suffered an (alleged) sexual trauma during those years, the memories were ‘kept in a freezer’ and were thawed by therapy. This ‘freezer’ metaphor is also assumed by many therapists. And, apologies, yes, it is gene transcription that DNA methylation can suppress. Of course, we agree with Markowitsch & Staniloiu's comment on drawing a clear distinction between semantic and autobiographical memory. Our main area of investigation, after all, is autobiographical memory. Apologies for lack of clarity. The term declarative memory was more simply borrowed from the research articles mentioned in the paper. We also agree that there are many studies documenting the amnesic consequences of trauma; this is the very reason why we, memory researchers who have worked for many years on conditions that produce false autobiographical memories, to decide to take a middle stance on the effect of trauma on memory. However, our caveats on the necessity to have a rigorous definition of trauma still stands. And we have issues with the idea of dissociative amnesia, which again is used too easily and broadly in clinical settings: the dissociation component is too often an inference made by the clinician, rather than a measurable behaviour. Finally, Mangiulli et al. appreciate the necessity of a middle stance, but claim that not all evidence bears equal weight. This is correct, as is correct that we have not indicated the weight of the various pieces of evidence in favour and against the ‘special’ status of traumatic memories. We have intentionally limited our conversation to sketch a direction to take. We believe that in any controversial area there is the need to know well the evidence that might be brought in favour or against any given stance that, for education, training and scientific culture, one would be more prone to adopt. The authors declare no conflicts of interest.