Neanderthal Brain Scans Challenge Intelligence Assumptions: New Findings

Picture this: It’s a quiet Tuesday morning in Austin, Texas and you’re sipping your third cup of locally roasted coffee at a South Congress café, scrolling through the latest science news. The headline stops you mid-sip—*”Brain Scans Reveal a Surprise About Neanderthal Intelligence.”* You pause, because let’s be honest, most of us grew up with the idea that Neanderthals were the dim-witted cousins of modern humans, outsmarted into extinction by our superior brains. But what if that story isn’t just oversimplified—what if it’s flat-out wrong? And more importantly, what does that mean for how we think about intelligence, evolution, and even our own brains right here in Central Texas?

For over a century, the narrative was straightforward: Neanderthals had bigger brow ridges, bulkier bodies, and—so the theory went—less sophisticated brains. Their extinction around 40,000 years ago was often chalked up to cognitive inferiority, a kind of prehistoric “survival of the smartest.” But a new study published this week in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (PNAS) turns that assumption on its head. An international team of anthropologists, led by Tom Schoenemann at Indiana University Bloomington, compared brain scans from two modern human populations—100 ethnic Han Chinese and 100 Americans of European ancestry—and found something startling: the differences between our brains are actually greater than the differences between our brains and those of Neanderthals.

That’s right. The regional volume variations in modern human brains—say, between someone in Austin and someone in Beijing—are more pronounced than the differences between a modern human brain and a Neanderthal’s. As the researchers put it in their study, “If the Neanderthal differences are held to be cognitively and evolutionarily relevant, then similar neuroanatomical differences commonly found between modern human populations would also require to be considered cognitively and evolutionarily relevant.” In other words, if we’re going to argue that Neanderthals were less intelligent because of their brain structure, we’d have to apply the same logic to the guy sitting next to you at the Alamo Drafthouse—or the barista who remembers your usual order at Houndstooth.

This isn’t just an academic debate. It’s a reckoning with how we’ve long measured intelligence, both in our species and in others. The study’s authors reviewed existing literature on brain anatomy and cognitive ability in modern humans and found that the link between the two is, at best, “very weak.” If we don’t assume that the structural differences between, say, a UT Austin neuroscience student and a rancher in Marfa translate to meaningful cognitive gaps, then why would we assume that about Neanderthals? The implications ripple far beyond archaeology. They challenge how we think about neurodiversity, evolution, and even the biases baked into scientific research itself.

Why This Matters for Austin (and Beyond)

Austin prides itself on being a city of thinkers—home to the University of Texas, a booming tech industry, and a creative class that thrives on innovation. But what if the way we’ve been taught to think about intelligence is fundamentally flawed? The Neanderthal study forces us to confront a uncomfortable question: If brain structure doesn’t reliably predict cognitive ability, what does? And how might that change how we approach education, hiring, or even urban planning in a city where “smart” is often shorthand for “successful”?

Consider the local context. Austin’s public schools, like many across the country, still rely heavily on standardized testing—a system that often equates intelligence with a narrow set of cognitive skills. The Neanderthal study suggests that such metrics might be missing the bigger picture. If two modern humans with structurally different brains can have comparable cognitive abilities, then why do we assume that a single test score can capture a child’s potential? The same logic applies to the tech industry, where hiring algorithms often favor candidates from elite universities or with specific types of experience. If brain anatomy isn’t destiny, then perhaps our hiring practices shouldn’t be either.

There’s also a cultural angle. Austin’s identity is built on its reputation as a “weird” city, a place where unconventional thinkers thrive. But what if that weirdness isn’t just a quirk—what if it’s a feature of human diversity that’s been undervalued for millennia? The Neanderthal study hints at a broader truth: intelligence isn’t a monolith. It’s a spectrum, shaped by environment, culture, and even the random variations in our brains that craft each of us unique. In a city where “Keep Austin Weird” is a rallying cry, that’s not just a slogan—it’s a scientific reality.

The Broader Implications: From Evolution to Ethics

The study’s findings also force a reckoning with how we’ve historically framed human evolution. For decades, Neanderthals were portrayed as brutish, less intelligent predecessors to modern humans—a narrative that conveniently justified our dominance. But as Schoenemann and his team point out, that narrative was built on shaky ground. Neanderthal skulls are indeed different from ours: they’re longer and lower, with heavier brow ridges and larger nasal openings. But those differences don’t necessarily translate to cognitive deficits. In fact, we now understand that Neanderthals created art, buried their dead with ceremony, and even interbred with modern humans—hardly the behavior of a “lesser” species.

This isn’t just about rewriting history. It’s about confronting the biases that have shaped scientific inquiry. The study’s authors note that the anatomical differences between Neanderthals and modern humans “were not put into the context of modern human populational variation in brain anatomy, which is known to be substantial.” In other words, scientists assumed Neanderthals were less intelligent because their brains looked different, without considering that our brains look different from each other too. That’s a problem, because it reflects a broader tendency in science to treat certain populations as “baseline” humans—often Western, educated, industrialized, rich, and democratic (WEIRD) populations—and others as deviations from that norm.

For a city like Austin, which is grappling with issues of equity and representation, This represents a critical insight. If we’ve been wrong about Neanderthals, what other assumptions about intelligence, ability, and potential are we getting wrong? How might those assumptions be shaping policies around education, healthcare, or criminal justice in our own community? The Neanderthal study doesn’t just challenge our understanding of the past—it challenges us to rethink how we measure and value intelligence in the present.

What So for the Future of Brain Research

The study’s implications extend into the future of neuroscience, particularly in how we study and treat brain differences. In Austin, where institutions like the University of Texas at Austin’s Dell Medical School and the Mulva Clinic for the Neurosciences are at the forefront of brain research, this could be a game-changer. If brain structure isn’t a reliable predictor of cognitive ability, then what does that mean for how we diagnose and treat conditions like autism, ADHD, or traumatic brain injuries?

For example, the study’s findings could influence how we approach neurodiversity in schools and workplaces. If brain anatomy varies widely even among neurotypical individuals, then perhaps we should be focusing less on “normalizing” brain structures and more on creating environments where diverse cognitive styles can thrive. That’s a message that resonates in Austin, a city that’s home to a growing number of neurodivergent-friendly workplaces and advocacy groups like the Autism Society of Texas.

There’s also a technological angle. Austin’s tech scene is obsessed with artificial intelligence and brain-computer interfaces, but what if our understanding of the brain itself is flawed? If brain structure doesn’t neatly map to cognitive ability, then how should we design AI systems that interact with human brains? Companies like Tesla’s Austin Gigafactory and local startups like Paradromics, which is developing brain-machine interfaces, might need to rethink their approaches in light of these findings.

Given My Background in Science Journalism, Here’s How to Navigate This in Austin

If you’re in Austin and this news has you rethinking how you understand intelligence—whether in yourself, your kids, or your community—you’re not alone. The Neanderthal study is a wake-up call, and it’s natural to wonder what it means for your own life. Here are three types of local professionals who can help you unpack these ideas and apply them to your situation:

Neurodiversity Advocates and Educators

What they do: These professionals work with schools, workplaces, and families to create environments that support diverse cognitive styles. They can help you understand how the Neanderthal study’s findings apply to neurodiversity in education and employment. What to look for: Look for advocates with experience in inclusive education or workplace training, particularly those affiliated with local organizations like the Autism Society of Texas or the Austin Independent School District’s Special Education Department. Ask about their approach to neurodiversity—do they focus on accommodation, or do they also advocate for systemic change? Why it matters: If brain structure doesn’t predict cognitive ability, then traditional education and hiring practices might be leaving talent on the table. A neurodiversity advocate can help you navigate these systems more effectively.

Cognitive Neuroscientists and Researchers

What they do: These experts study the brain and its relationship to behavior, cognition, and intelligence. They can provide deeper insights into the Neanderthal study and its implications for modern neuroscience. What to look for: Seek out researchers affiliated with local institutions like the University of Texas at Austin’s Center for Learning and Memory or the Dell Medical School’s Mulva Clinic for the Neurosciences. Look for those who specialize in brain imaging, evolutionary neuroscience, or cognitive diversity. Why it matters: The Neanderthal study challenges long-held assumptions about brain anatomy and intelligence. A cognitive neuroscientist can help you understand the nuances of these findings and how they might apply to your own brain health or cognitive development.

Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) Consultants

What they do: DEI consultants help organizations create more inclusive cultures, often by challenging biases and assumptions about ability, intelligence, and potential. They can help you apply the Neanderthal study’s findings to workplace or community settings. What to look for: Look for consultants with experience in neurodiversity, cognitive diversity, or inclusive hiring practices. Local firms like Austin Diversity & Inclusion Consulting or individual practitioners with ties to the city’s tech and creative industries can be particularly valuable. Why it matters: If brain structure doesn’t determine intelligence, then traditional hiring and promotion practices might be perpetuating inequities. A DEI consultant can help you identify and address these biases in your own organization or community.

Ready to discover trusted professionals? Browse our complete directory of top-rated neurodiversity and brain health experts in the Austin area today.