Neuron, Vol. 33, 983–994, March 14, 2002, Copyright 2002 by Cell Press
The Role of the Amygdala in Signaling
Prospective Outcome of Choice
Itamar Kahn,1,3,6 Yehezkel Yeshurun,3
Pia Rotshtein,1 Itzhak Fried,1,2,4
Dafna Ben-Bashat,1 and Talma Hendler1,2,5
1
Wohl Institute for Advanced Imaging
Tel Aviv Sourasky Medical Center
6 Weizmann Street
Tel Aviv 64239
2
Sackler Faculty of Medicine
3
School of Computer Science
Sackler Faculty of Exact Sciences
Tel Aviv University
Ramat Aviv
Tel Aviv 69978
Israel
4
Division of Neurosurgery and
Department of Psychiatry and
Biobehavioral Sciences
University of California, Los Angeles
Los Angeles, California 90095
Summary
Can brain activity reveal a covert choice? Making a
choice often evokes distinct emotions that accompany
decision processes. Amygdala has been implicated
in choice behavior that is guided by a prospective
negative outcome. However, its specific involvement
in emotional versus cognitive processing of choice
behavior has been a subject of controversy. In this
study, the human amygdala was monitored by functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) while subjects were playing in a naturalistic choice paradigm
against the experimenter. In order to win, players had
to occasionally choose to bluff their opponent, risk
“getting caught,” and suffer a loss. A critical period,
when choice has been made but outcome was still
unknown, activated the amygdala preferentially following the choice that entailed risk of loss. Thus, the
response of the amygdala differentiated between subject’s covert choice of either playing fair or foul. These
results support a role of the amygdala in choice behavior, both in the appraisal of inherent value of choice
and the signaling of prospective negative outcomes.
Introduction
Choices often involve risk and uncertainty. To what extent making a choice incorporates affective processing
has been long debated in decision theory (Mellers et al.,
1997, 1999; Damasio, 1994). Making a choice calls for
appraisal of the expected outcome relating to different
options. Such evaluation prior to and immediately following a choice usually evokes distinct affect. This can
5
Correspondence: talma@tasmc.health.gov.il
Present address: Department of Brain and Cognitive Sciences,
Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Cambridge, Massachusetts
02139.
6
be demonstrated with a mundane example: if a traffic
light turns yellow when we reach an intersection, we
have to choose whether to stop, as required by law, or
to cross the intersection. Making a choice in this case
depends not only on knowing the traffic rules (i.e., the
value of options), but also on our willingness to ignore
them and take a risk (i.e., the value of outcome). In this
case, either stopping at the yellow light (i.e., wasting
time but obeying the law) or crossing the intersection
(i.e., saving time but risking negative consequences) will
be accompanied by a characteristic affective response.
Based on lesion studies in animals and humans, it
has been suggested that an intact amygdala is essential
for making motivational (i.e., affective) choices. In animals, studies using reinforced goal-directed behavioral
paradigms showed that lesions to the amygdala interfere with learning to avoid an aversive outcome (Davis,
1992; LeDoux, 1996, 1998; Killcross et al., 1997;
Fanselow and LeDoux, 1999), and with adjustment to
varying values of reinforcement (monkeys: Malkova et
al., 1997; rats: Hatfield et al., 1996). In humans, it was
shown that a lesion to the medial temporal lobe interferes with affective choice behavior, as indicated by the
lack of a conditioned skin conductance response (SCR)
to visual stimuli paired with aversive sounds (LaBar et
al., 1995, 1998). More specifically, patients with bilateral
amygdala damage did not develop anticipatory SCRs
when they faced a risky choice or following a negative
outcome during a gambling task (Bechara et al., 1995,
1999). People and animals with bilateral amygdala damage also demonstrate poor judgment in their overall
behavior. For example, monkeys with such lesions have
increased tendency to approach risky objects in their
environment (Kluver and Bucy, 1939; Zola-Morgan et
al., 1991). Humans were found to have impaired social
behavior (Tranel and Hyman, 1990) and were unable to
recognize negative facial expressions, a crucial skill in
judging risky social situations and evaluating prospective interactions (Adolphs et al., 1995, 1998).
Functional brain imaging provides a tool for studying
the intact human amygdala and, thus, for examining its
role in choice behavior. Several studies have demonstrated amygdala involvement in processing the negative valence of stimuli (Morris et al., 1996, 1999; Breiter
et al., 1996; Phillips et al., 1997; Schneider et al., 1997;
Whalen et al., 1998; Rotshtein et al., 2001). Imaging studies that have directly examined the role of amygdala
in choice behavior have primarily employed classical
conditioning or gambling paradigms. Using a conditioning paradigm in fMRI, it was shown that activation in the
amygdala was greatest at the initial phase of acquisition
and at extinction of emotional learning (LaBar et al.,
1998; Buchel et al., 1998). The rapid habituation observed in this paradigm led to the suggestion that the
amygdala is most sensitive to the novel affective aspect
of a signal, such as in the initial stage of learning a
conditioned choice behavior. Recently, it has been
shown that the amygdala could be activated by the
threat of a negative outcome, suggesting that it is not
only related to the learning phase but rather to actual
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expression of a fear-conditioned response (Phelps et
al., 2001). Similarly, it has been demonstrated that the
amygdala is involved in evaluating the value and likelihood of a monetary or abstract outcome (Breiter et al.,
2001; Zalla et al., 2000, respectively).
Evaluation of a prospective negative outcome and the
response to its occurrence are not exclusively mediated
by the amygdala. Rather, these processes involve several other brain regions, such as the prefrontal cortex,
anterior cingulate, parietal cortex, hippocampus, and
ventral striatum (LaBar et al., 1998; Buchel et al., 1998;
Critchley et al., 2001; Knutson et al., 2000; Breiter et al.,
2001; O’Doherty et al., 2001; Knight et al., 1999; Zalla
et al., 2000; Rogers et al., 1999; Elliott et al., 1997, 2000;
Leon and Shadlen, 1999). Recently, a disconnection
study in monkeys indicated that motivational choice behavior, guided by the value of the outcome, is primarily
dependent on the effective interaction between the
amygdala and orbital prefrontal cortex (Baxter et al.,
2000). Thus, it is still an open question in what way the
amygdala, a major limbic junction, is pivotal for making
an advantageous choice under uncertainty and risk. Bechara et al. (1999) addressed this question by measuring
SCRs during a gambling task in patients with localized
lesions in either the amygdala or ventromedial prefrontal
(VMPF) cortex. It was found that both intact amygdala
and VMPF cortex were necessary for effective goaldirected behavior, but in different ways. The amygdala
was suggested to be more critical than VMPF for dealing
adaptively with affective aspects of the decision
process.
In this study, the intact amygdala response was monitored directly by fMRI while subjects played an interactive modified domino game against the experimenter.
The subject (player) was actually involved in naturalistic
choice behavior that was guided by the abstract goal
of winning against the experimenter (opponent). In order
to win the game, the player was sometimes forced to
bluff the opponent, thereby taking the risk of getting
caught and suffering an expected loss. The game thus
led to making untruthful choices that were associated
with greater risk.
The player’s choices and the opponent’s responses
were interactively determined by the flow of the game,
creating a natural progression of a game situation that
lasted approximately 5 min, or until one of the sides
won. Figure 1 illustrates the requirements and options
during one round of the game (see Experimental Procedures for details and Supplemental Data at http://
www.neuron.org/cgi/content/full/33/6/983/DC1 information for a short demo of the game). At the beginning
of the game, one master chip and twelve game chips
were assigned to the player’s board. In order to win, the
player had to get rid of all the assigned chips as quickly
as possible. At each round of the game, the player was
required to choose a chip from the board. The opponent
was blind to the choice made. A chosen chip could be
either a match or a nonmatch relative to the master chip
(Figure 1A, red arrow). A nonmatch was a chip for which
neither of the numbers matched the numbers on the master chip. Then, the opponent could either ask the player
to expose the chosen chip or continue with the game.
Thus, the outcome of each round depended on the combination of the player’s choice (match or nonmatch) and
the opponent’s response (show or no-show) (Figure 1D).
Note that only for a nonmatch choice the player can
suffer an actual loss. Therefore, a nonmatch chip can
be regarded as a foul choice, while a match chip can be
regarded as a fair choice. The present game paradigm is
unique, as it required that the subject actively make
choices that determined the progress of the situation,
and then required an ongoing involvement of the experimenter in imposing uncertainty about the consequence
of each choice. Our specific interest was whether the
amygdala response following each choice—but before
the outcome was known—would reveal the subject’s
covert choice. We hypothesized that amygdala activation would reflect affective states related to both the
value of the choice acted upon and the prospective
opponent’s response.
Results
Behavioral Analysis of the Game
The subjective experience reported by the subjects following the scan was that they were eager to win the
game and tried to make advantageous choices to
achieve that goal. An analysis of the players’ choices
revealed that on the average subjects chose equally
between match and nonmatch chips throughout the
game. Figure 2A depicts the players’ nonmatch choice
index and the opponent’s show response index during
the game (see Experimental Procedures for details on
the measurements). The players’ choices and the opponent’s responses on average comprised of equal
amounts of each option (match versus nonmatch and
show versus no-show, respectively). The averaged calculated player’s nonmatch choice index across all
games was 0.513 (0.331 SD), and the averaged calculated opponent’s show response index was 0.566 (0.341
SD). Nonetheless, there was a trend for the opponent
to become biased to respond more with “Show” as the
game duration approached 5 min (Figure 2A, black line).
Accordingly, a one-way ANOVA of opponent’s show response index by minutes of game revealed a significant
effect of time (F[4, 195] ⫽ 3.214, p ⬍ 0.0139). This bias
was also expressed as a statistically significant difference between the show index of the fifth minute and the
hypothesized mean of 0.5 for a nonbiased opponent’s
responses between show and no-show (t[14] ⫽ 2.493,
p ⬍ 0.05). In contrast, for the player’s nonmatch choice
index there was no significant change with time (F[4,
195] ⫽ 0.615, p ⫽ 0.652), and it persisted throughout
around the average choice index of 0.5 (Figure 2A, light
gray line). In order to further explore the relationship
between the player’s choice and opponent’s response,
a two-way ANOVA was performed with opponent’s response (show index) and game duration (minutes) as
factors and player’s choice (nonmatch index) as the
dependant variable. The main effect and interaction
were not significant, suggesting that the players’ responses did not change as a function of the opponent’s
responses.
An additional aspect of game progression was defined
with respect to the number of chips left for the subject
to get rid of representing the asset position (see Experimental Procedures for details). As expected, high asset
Amygdala Signals Prospective Outcome of Choice
985
Figure 1. Game Course
Diagram indicating the temporal sequence of steps as driven by the interaction between the player and the opponent during one round in
the game. The steps were divided by visually and aurally presented commands shown in gray rectangles (see Experimental Procedures for
detailed description of game progress and additional information for a game demo). A representative round is depicted, where the master
chip is horizontally positioned on the game board (glass-like rectangle). At the beginning of a round, the command “Choose” directs the
player to mentally choose a chip from the chips assigned to him (depicted on the bottom of the board). After the command “Ready,” the
player is required to move the cursor to mark his chosen chip. Following the command “Go,” the player is required to actually pick it and
waits for the opponent’s response. Having observed the subject making his choice, the opponent can ask the subject to expose the chosen
chip or not to expose the chip and continue to the next turn. Accordingly, three intervals of interest were characterized during a round:
“decision-making” (A), “expectancy-to-outcome” (C), and “response-to-outcome” (D). The interval from the onset of the instruction “Go” until
the player’s last motor action of pick, is marked in gray (B). The “expectancy-to-outcome” interval is divided into two possible events depending
on the player’s choice: nonmatch (red) or match (blue). Subsequently, the “response-to-outcome” interval is divided into four outcomes,
depending on the two possible responses of the opponent: expose the chosen chip (filled arrows) or continue to the next turn (dotted arrows).
The actual gain or loss in each round is depicted as the number of chips subtracted or added to the chips assigned initially to the player (E).
The relative gain or loss is calculated as the difference between the gain or loss of the actual outcome and the alternative outcome (see
Experimental Procedures for details) (F). Note that the magnitude of actual outcome is greater when opponent response with a show than a
no-show, while the magnitude of counterfactual comparison (relative gain or loss) is greater when the player makes a nonmatch choice then
a match choice.
was associated with early stages of the game while low
asset was associated with later stages of the game. The
subjects’ choice behavior did not differ according to
asset position. This was demonstrated in a one-way
ANOVA of choice index by asset position that was not
significant, and by comparison of the choice nonmatch
index of the three asset positions against a hypothesized
mean of 0.5 that was also not significant (Figure 2B).
The proportional occurrences (number of occurrences
in 30 s divided by total number of occurrences in the
game) of each asset position per minute of the game
are depicted in three histograms in Figure 2C.
Amygdala Activation during “Expectancy-toOutcome” Interval
Analysis of the fMRI data revealed that while the player
was expecting the outcome, the amygdala was activated differentially depending on the type of choice (i.e.,
nonmatch or match). These results were obtained both
when the amygdala was identified structurally and functionally (see Experimental Procedures).
Averaged fMRI response during the “expectancy-tooutcome” interval obtained from anatomically defined
region of interest (ROI) of the amygdala is presented in
Figure 3A. There were no statistically significant differences between left and right amygdala for these analyses. Hereafter, the data are presented as an average
for both amygdala. Events following nonmatch choices
evoked an increase in signal relative to baseline and
were significantly different from events following match
choices. This effect was significant, as demonstrated
by repeated measures ANOVA performed on choice
type by time (image repetitions). The ANOVA revealed
a main effect of time (F[6, 66] ⫽ 3.890, p ⬍ 0.005) and
an interaction between choice and time (F[6, 66] ⫽ 2.399,
p ⬍ 0.05). The signal for nonmatch choices was significantly larger than for match choices (planned contrast
between nonmatch versus match choices for the duration of 7.5 s post interval onset: F ⫽ 60.619, p ⬍ 0.0001,
Figure 3A).
A general linear model (GLM) was defined using the
player’s choices and opponent’s responses as predictors. A GLM contrast with nonmatch choice as a
positive predictor was used to probe for nonmatch
choice-related voxels. Figure 4 shows individual parametric maps for three representative subjects. Single
subject GLM analyses demonstrated robust bilateral
amygdala activation for all the subjects. The time course
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Figure 2. Behavioral Analysis of the Game
(A) Players’ choices (gray) and opponent’s responses (black) as a function of time. Nonmatch choice index (number of nonmatch choices
divided by the number of nonmatch and match choices) and show outcome index (number of show outcomes divided by the number of show
and no-show outcomes) are plotted for each minute of the game taken from all games for all the subjects. (B) Players’ choices as a function
of asset position (see Experimental Procedures). The mean nonmatch choice index is plotted for each one of the different asset positions.
(C) Histogram of the distribution of game steps as a function of asset position. Each histogram shows the average proportion of events
occurring at different times during the game for each asset position. High asset position is shown in black, medium in gray, and low in light
gray. The error bars are standard error of the mean (SEM).
of activated voxels obtained for each subject was consistent with the results obtained in the structural ROI
(data not shown). Figure 4 also depicts a nonmatch
choice contrast obtained from 12 subjects. Both right
and left amygdala were activated (left: 26 mm3,
[⫺22, ⫺2, ⫺11]; right: 13 mm3, [29, ⫺2, ⫺11]; p ⬍ 0.05,
uncorrected). Note that the smaller size of the observed
foci in the group GLM was probably due to variability
in location of foci between subjects. The structurally
based definition of the amygdala clearly demonstrates
this variability (see Table 1).
In order to test whether the amygdala activation during the “expectancy-to-outcome” interval changed as
a function of the number of chips left for the subject to
get rid of, fMRI signal was evaluated for each asset
position and choice type (Figure 3B). The difference
between fMRI signal for choice options (i.e., match versus nonmatch) decreases from high to low asset position. However, no interaction between choice type and
asset position was found (two-ways ANOVA: main effect
of choice type F[1, 366] ⫽ 16.936, p ⬍ 0.000, and main
effect of asset position F[2, 366] ⫽ 4.375, p ⬍ 0.05).
Taken together, this analysis demonstrated increased
amygdala response to nonmatch choices during the “ex-
pectancy-to-outcome” interval, with greatest response
at high asset position.
Amygdala Activation during “Response-toOutcome” Interval
For the “response-to-outcome” interval, percent signal
changes were first calculated from structurally defined
ROIs of the amygdala. Because there was no difference
in signal change between the left and right amygdala
for this interval, further analyses were performed on a
weighted average of the left and right amygdala. Figure
5A shows the data sorted by four possible outcomes
and averaged across 7.5 s post opponent’s response
(Figure 1E).
A repeated measures ANOVA across hemispheres
was performed with player’s choice and opponent’s response as factors. There was a main effect of opponent’s response (F[1, 11] ⫽ 8.376, p ⬍ 0.05), but not a
main effect of player’s choice or interaction. In addition,
planned comparisons revealed a statistically significant
difference for show versus no-show outcomes collapsed across subject’s choices (F ⫽ 20.289, p ⬍ 0.01,
Figure 5A), such that the opponent’s response of show
evoked a greater response than the no-show response.
Amygdala Signals Prospective Outcome of Choice
987
Figure 3. Amygdala Activation during the
“Expectancy-to-Outcome” Interval
The graphs depict the averaged activation
obtained from the amygdala region of interest
bilaterally from all subjects. (A) Percent signal
change is shown as a function of time for
nonmatch (red) and match (blue) choices. The
onset of the interval is set by the player’s pick
of a chosen chip and ended by the opponent
response (either “Show” or “Choose”). Dark
gray area represents the average duration of
this interval while light gray represents the
maximal duration. (B) Averaged percent signal change obtained during expectancy interval for match (blue) and nonmatch (red)
events sorted by asset position in the game
(i.e., low, medium, and high; see Experimental
Procedures for details). The error bars are
standard error of the mean (SEM).
A GLM contrast with show response (following either
match or nonmatch choices) as a positive predictor was
used to probe for show-related voxels in the amygdala.
Both left and right amygdala contributed to the individually described signal change during the “response-tooutcome” interval. Figure 6 depicts individual parametric maps obtained for three representative subjects. The
time course obtained from the show-related voxels was
consistent with the results obtained in the ROI analysis
for each subject (data not shown). The show effect of
the group is demonstrated in a multistudy GLM for 12
subjects (Figure 6; left: 741 mm3 [⫺24, ⫺6, ⫺10]; right:
577 mm3 [21, ⫺6, ⫺12]; p ⬍ 0.02 uncorrected). Note
that a direct comparison between nonmatch and match
choices was not possible since they occurred following
different temporal dynamics of the amygdala at the “ex-
pectancy-to-outcome” interval and therefore were directly influenced by different preinterval signal amplitudes. Moreover, the no-show outcome events were
not perfectly symmetrical to the show outcome events,
since the player immediately started to mentally select
the next chip for the former, but had about 7.5 s to wait
for the new round to begin (choose) following a show for
the latter. This does not dismiss the possibility, however,
that the player used this lag between rounds to start
making his next decision.
Discussion
“Expectancy-to-Outcome”: Anticipated Emotions
While the player was expecting the outcome, there was
a differential activation of the amygdala according to the
Figure 4. Parametric Maps for Nonmatch Choice Related Voxels during the “Expectancy-to-Outcome” Interval
Parametric maps of preferentially activated voxels following nonmatch choices and before outcome is known, overlaid on anatomical coronal
sections. Three representative subjects’ maps are shown in addition to a group average (n ⫽ 12). Significant activation within the predefined
amygdala region is marked in yellow.
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Table 1. Amygdala Region of Interest
Left Amygdala
Subject
BP
CP
CN
EE
GB
HB
LS
LU
QE
QT
SQ
SA
Anatomically defined voxels
Size
Right Amygdala
x
y
z
x
y
z
1440
4522
7128
5610
4356
3888
7560
5083
10164
5980
4224
4860
25
18.5
20
21
22.5
20
19.5
19.5
20
19.5
19.5
20.5
⫺4
⫺4.5
⫺4.5
⫺5.5
⫺5
⫺5
⫺6
⫺7.5
⫺5
⫺6
⫺4.5
⫺8
⫺14
⫺12
⫺15
⫺12.5
⫺12.5
⫺17
⫺12
⫺13
⫺15
⫺17
⫺13.5
⫺17
Size
3465
3672
6426
4522
3213
5400
9200
3388
4199
5304
2160
7182
⫺26.5
⫺18
⫺20.5
⫺21.5
⫺19.5
⫺20.5
⫺20.5
⫺18
⫺19.5
⫺20
⫺18.5
⫺24
⫺3
⫺2.5
⫺4.5
⫺5
⫺5
⫺7
⫺4
⫺6
⫺2
⫺1
⫺3.5
⫺9.5
⫺12.5
⫺12
⫺15.5
⫺14
⫺16
⫺15.5
⫺14.5
⫺14
⫺16.5
⫺16.5
⫺12.5
⫺17.5
5401.25 ⫾ 2092.203
20.5
⫺5.5
⫺14.2
4844.25 ⫾ 1910.11
⫺20.6
⫺4.4
⫺14.8
For each subject, the size (mm3) and center of gravity (in Talairach space) of the region of interest is depicted.
type of chip chosen by the player. Following a nonmatch
choice, there was a positive response in the amygdala
that was significantly larger then the response observed
following a match choice (Figure 3A, Figure 4). Such
differential amygdala responses occurred before the
outcome was known, thus revealing the subject’s covert
choice to play fair or foul (i.e., choosing a match or
a nonmatch chip). However, this pattern of amygdala
response could also represent affective proposition related to prospective response of the opponent (show
or no-show) and consequently the possible outcomes
(loss or gain, small or large). The affective characteristic
of a nonmatch choice could be related to guilt evoked
by its untruthful value or to the tension evoked by the
Figure 5. Amygdala Activation during the
“Response-to-Outcome” Interval
Average activation obtained from the amygdala region of interest bilaterally for all subjects. (A) Averaged activation for the 7.5 s
after either the “Show” outcome (filled) or
“Choose” (dotted) as a function of subject
choice (nonmatch in red and match in blue).
(B) Time course of the amygdala region activation during the “response-to-outcome” interval following a show outcome, and (C) noshow (“Choose”) outcome. The error bars are
standard error of the mean (SEM).
Amygdala Signals Prospective Outcome of Choice
989
Figure 6. Parametric Maps for Show Outcome Related Voxels during the “Response-to-Outcome” Interval
Parametric maps of voxels preferentially activated following a show outcome are overlaid on coronal sections. Three representative subjects’
maps are shown in addition to a group average (n ⫽ 12). Significant activation within the predefined amygdala region is marked in yellow.
risk of being exposed and the subsequent loss. In the
present game paradigm, players were forced to occasionally make a nonmatch choice; thus, it is unlikely that
they felt guilty about it. However, they could have felt
shame for the prospect of “being caught” when bluffing.
The risk of greater loss following a nonmatch choice
could also provoke negative emotion that would influence the amygdala response. In our game paradigm,
both choices entailed risk of loss, although of different
magnitudes (i.e., large loss following a request to show
a nonmatch choice versus a small loss when not requested to show a match choice; Figures 1E and 1F).
Therefore, it is suggested that the amygdala is most
affected by the prospective magnitude of loss and not
just by a risk of any loss.
According to the somatic marker hypothesis, risky
choices evoke anticipatory SCRs that represent the affective attributes in the process of decision-making (Damasio, 1994; Bechara et al., 1999). Moreover, decision
affect theory suggests that it is not the actual emotion,
but rather anticipated emotion, that interacts with the
choice process. More specifically, it proposes that risky
choices evoke anticipated emotions that relate to either
regret (a feeling evoked by considering the player’s own
choice) or disappointment (a feeling evoked by considering alternative options of the opponent’s response)
(Loomes and Sugden, 1982, 1986; Loomes et al., 1989;
Mellers et al., 1997, 1999).
Recently, another study demonstrated greater positive response of the amygdala when subjects were presented with the prospect of a bad monetary outcome
(Breiter et al., 2001). This study and our data suggest
that the amygdala is involved in the process of attaching
affect to appraisal of prospective negative outcome.
However, the origen of this affect in each study might
be different. In our study, subjects were engaged in
active choice behavior between fair and foul that determined the dominating negative valence of the prospective outcome; thus, their main anticipated emotion was
most likely regret (Mellers et al., 1999). In the Breiter et
al. (2001) study, subjects did not make any choice. Thus,
their negative anticipated emotions could be mainly disappointment (Mellers et al., 1999). Therefore, depending
on the involvement of active choice, either anticipated
regret (with choice) or disappointment (without choice)
could account for the amygdala larger activation to prospective negative outcome. Direct experimental comparison between “expectancy-to-outcome” with and
without choice would further delineate the contribution
of the value of choice by itself to the amygdala response.
The observed hypersensitivity of amygdala to negative anticipated emotions are in accord with findings in
awake cats, showing increased firing rate and greater
neuronal synchronization in the lateral amygdala during
anticipation of noxious stimuli (Pare and Collins, 2000).
In another study, unit recordings in rats indicated that
neurons in the amygdala signal not only the value of an
already received reinforcement, but also the expectancy
to negative outcome even before learning has been established. Moreover, the majority of neurons in the
amygdala fired more when a negative outcome was expected than when a positive outcome was expected
(Schoenbaum et al., 1998). It was proposed that such
prelearning differential amygdala activity to prospective
value of outcome provides an important cue for avoiding
aversive outcomes in the early stages of learning. Our
subjects participated in an over-learned risky choice
behavior, and no strategy seemed to be acquired
throughout the game by the player (Figure 2A). Thus,
the specific response of the amygdala to expected large
negative outcome was obtained beyond the learning
phase of the game. Such data provide additional support
for the claim that the human amygdala is involved in the
actual expression and not solely in the acquisition of
anticipated negative emotions (Phelps et al., 2001; Bechara et al., 1995).
Furthermore, amygdala damage has been shown to
lead to difficulty in making advantageous choices under
uncertainty in a gambling task with a monetary outcome
(Bechara et al., 1999). This difficulty corresponded to a
lack of anticipatory SCRs before choosing from a disadvantageous card deck. It was assumed that the impairment in making an advantageous choice in these patients was related to their inability to encode and
anticipate the negative value of an outcome that is related to their choice and, thus, to avoid it. Our fMRI data
support this proposal by showing that the strongest
activation of the intact amygdala occurred while sub-
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jects expected the outcome of largest negative magnitude. This outcome was directly related to their risky
choice of bluffing the opponent.
“Expectancy-to-Outcome”: Value of Choice
Anticipated negative emotions were assumed to be associated with, and possibly generated by, a cognitive
process of inferring subjective value to a choice in terms
of loss or gain probability and cost (Kahneman and Tversky, 1979). However, this perceived value of choice
could have changed with game progression. Interestingly enough, in our study, when events during the “expectancy-to-outcome” interval were divided according
to their asset positions, there was a significant asset
effect in addition to the choice effect (Figure 3B). Amygdala response following a nonmatch choice decreased
with asset changing from high (many chips left to be
disposed) to low (few chips left to be disposed). Furthermore, the difference in activation between match and
nonmatch choices was getting smaller as asset decreased. Based on this finding, it is tempting to suggest
that the amygdala response while the subject was expecting the outcome was affected not only by the expected magnitude of immediate negative outcome, but
also by the size of asset. Asset position in the game
could reflect the likelihood of winning the game. At low
asset position where the game seems to be close to the
end, match and nonmatch choices would be perceived
as similarly critical for winning the game. Thus, it is
suggested that the amygdala is most sensitive to the
difference between choices when the player is more
engaged in immediate outcome evaluation (i.e., high or
medium asset position). In fact, most of our subjects
reported after scanning that when they reached the
stage of having fewer chips (i.e., low asset position) they
felt less anxious about the outcome of every step and
were more focused on achieving their final goal of winning the game. Thus, the change in the value of choice
could be accountable for the decrease in amygdala response at low asset position. Altogether, the asset analysis proposes that human amygdala may be most effective at signaling the value of a choice with respect to
the immediate expected outcome.
There are, however, two alternative interpretations for
the asset effect. It could either be the mere effect of
prolonging the game, or a tendency of the opponent to
respond more with the show option toward the end
of game. The effect of lengthening the game could be
related to the known neural habituation phenomenon in
the amygdala. It was suggested that such habituation
reflects the role of the amygdala as predictor of the
value of choice in terms of outcome in a novel situation
(Quirk et al., 1997; Buchel et al., 1998; LaBar et al., 1998).
However, the pattern of activation of match choices
demonstrates an increase in activation from medium to
low asset. Thus, it seems less likely that this effect can
be explained solely by habituation. The second interpretation posits that the change in the opponent’s response
pattern affected the amygdala response. Nonetheless,
similar nonmatch choice index of the player at the three
asset positions (Figure 2B) and the lack of correspondence between player’s choice and opponent’s response (Figure 2A) demonstrate that the player did not
change his choice pattern according to the opponent
response.
“Response-to-Outcome”: Sensitivity
to Opponent’s Response
Following either match or nonmatch choices, the amygdala was more activated when the opponent asked the
player to reveal the chosen chip (show outcome) than
when was not (no-show outcome) (Figure 5A). Thus, in
contrast to the “expectancy-to-outcome” interval, during the “response-to-outcome” the amygdala was tuned
more to the type of opponent’s response than the player’s choice. Accordingly, amygdala response seems to
correspond to the magnitude of the outcome rather than
to its direction (gain or loss). As is shown in Figure 1E,
the magnitude of gain or loss of show outcome was
greater than that of the no-show outcome, irrespective
of the subject’s choice (match or nonmatch). Furthermore, the amygdala response did not seem to correlate
with the possible valence of experienced emotions due
to counterfactual comparisons (Mellers et al., 1999). A
counterfactual comparison can be regarded as the process of comparing the actual with the alternative outcome. For example, in the case of the opponent’s
“Show” request, the experienced emotion could be either of positive valence (i.e., satisfaction) when it follows
a match choice, or of negative valence (i.e., disappointment) when it follows a nonmatch choice. Such relatively
low sensitivity of the amygdala to valence of outcome
is in accordance with animal and human data suggesting
a role for the amygdala in evoking somatic responses
to both punishment and reward (Hatfield et al., 1996;
Bechara et al., 1999). Moreover, recent fMRI studies
showed a change in activation of the amygdala with
magnitude of either loss or gain in gambling tasks (Zalla
et al., 2000; Breiter et al., 2001).
The value of outcome could also be affected for better
or worse by the magnitude of the alternative outcome
(i.e., represented by the difference between the actual
and alternative outcomes). In our game, the largest relative loss was experienced following show nonmatch (see
Experimental Procedures; Figure 1F). Although the
amygdala response was slightly larger for show nonmatch than show match, it was not statistically significant (Figure 5A). Hence, overall there was no effect of
relative outcome. This finding is in agreement with a
previous study showing that different magnitudes of
counterfactual comparisons, even when determined by
the experimental paradigm and not by the subject, did
not affect the amygdala response to outcome (Breiter
et al., 2001). We conclude that the actual magnitude of
outcome was more likely to contribute to the amygdala
response than valence or magnitude of counterfactual
comparisons. However, in the current study the magnitude of actual outcome and type of opponent’s response
were dovetailed and therefore it was not possible to
characterize their specific contribution.
Amygdala Response throughout the Game:
From Motivation to Action
In this study, the profile of amygdala activation was
characterized during an interactive game, by either the
player’s choice (expectancy interval) or the opponent’s
Amygdala Signals Prospective Outcome of Choice
991
response (outcome interval). In a SCRs companion
study (see Supplemental Data at http://www.neuron.
org/cgi/content/full/33/6/983/DC1) an overall effect of
player’s choice was demonstrated during both expectancy and outcome intervals. This finding suggests that
the choice-dependant response of the amygdala during
the “expectancy-to-outcome” interval was correlated
with arousal and thus could fit with the somatic marker
hypothesis of decision-making. On the other hand, the
amygdala response to outcome was different from the
SCRs by not being related to player’s choice. This discrepancy calls for an additional nonarousal related
mechanism that could inflect the amygdala response in
choice behavior in respect to actual outcome.
One possible explanation for the difference between
fMRI and SCRs data could be related to the extensive
interconnections between the amygdala and prefrontal
cortex. It has been shown that when the amygdala and
orbital prefrontal cortex were disconnected, monkeys
were unable to adjust their choice behavior when facing
change in values of the reward outcomes. In contrast,
the disconnection did not affect motivation to avoid
aversive stimuli and to prefer food reinforcement. These
findings support the established idea that motivational
significance is coded by the amygdala and then transferred to prefrontal cortex for the control of action
(Schoenbaum et al., 1998).
Effective interactions between the amygdala and prefrontal cortex have been proposed to be critical for appropriate social behavior (Rolls, 1999). Clearly, this is
dependent on sufficiently active amygdala. Monkeys
with bilateral lesions of the amygdala exhibited inappropriate responses to social stimuli rather than difficulties
in actual emotional expression (Meunier et al., 1999). In
humans, damage to the amygdala is characterized not
only by inappropriate emotional behavior, but also by
a tendency to impose danger on the self and others
(Bechara et al., 1999). Correspondingly, an abnormal
response of the amygdala during an aversive conditioning task was found in antisocial personality disorder
(Schneider et al., 2000). In the current study, the tuning
of the amygdala to the player’s choice on the one hand
and to the opponent’s response on the other hand underscores its significance in shaping appropriate social
behavior. For example, the observed sensitivity of the
amygdala to the expected value of an outcome was
based on previously learned rules of the game. In addition, the response to the actual magnitude of the outcome was related to the type of opponent’s response,
suggesting that the amygdala is involved in evaluating
possible outcome of choice. Taken together, the data
suggest that the amygdala is capable of directing motivation by signaling the prospective consequences of a
choice. Moreover, it can provide guidance for future
actions in accordance with the actual outcome of the
choice.
Experimental Procedures
Subjects
Thirteen right-handed healthy subjects (seven females; aged 18–46)
participated in the experiment. Subjects provided written informed
consent prior to the scanning session. All procedures were approved
by the Tel Aviv Sourasky Medical Center human rights committee.
One male subject was excluded from the final analysis due to substantial artifacts in the MR BOLD signal (see below).
Game Rules and Objectives
The domino game presented below is a two-person game with diametrically opposed preferences. In the game, the subject is the
player and the experimenter is the opponent. There are twenty-eight
domino chips, where each chip is composed of two numbers from
zero to six (all possible combinations of 0, 1, …, 6 without repetitions). In the beginning of each game, twelve random chips are
assigned to the player and placed face up at the bottom of the
board, four undisclosed chips are assigned to the bank, and one
chip is placed face up on the board and is the master chip. No other
chips are used. Each assigned chip can be either a match or a
nonmatch relative to the master chip. A match is a chip in which at
least one number out of the two matches one of the numbers on
the master chip (lower arrow, Figure 1A). A nonmatch is a chip in
which none of the numbers on it matches the numbers on the master
chip (upper arrow, Figure 1A). Approximately half of the assigned
chips will be nonmatch. To win the game, the player has to get rid
of all the chips assigned to him. One round in the game can be
described in terms of the following steps:
(1) Each round starts with the command “Choose.” The player
then makes one of two decisions called pick match choice
or pick nonmatch choice.
(2) Following the command “Ready,” the player moves the cursor to the chosen chip.
(3) Following the command “Go,” the player picks the chip as
quickly as possible. Once picked, the chip is automatically
placed facedown on the game board (demonstrated by the
curved arrows, Figure 1C).
(4) Having observed the player make his pick, the opponent
makes one of two decisions called show and no-show.
(5) If the opponent decides no-show, the round is over and the
command “Choose” is presented (step 1). If he decides to
ask the subject to expose the chip, the command “Show” is
presented and the chip is turned face up. If it is a nonmatch,
the player will get the chip back and two additional chips
(from the bank or randomly from the previously disposed
chips if the bank is empty). If it is a match, one additional
chip from the chips assigned to the player is randomly picked
and moved to the board.
Rounds in the game continue until the player got rid of all of his
chips (win), or either 320 s have passed (lose) or the player got all
the chips from the bank and the board (i.e., there are no more chips
for him to get and therefore he loses).
The first two steps of a round are both of fixed duration (5 s). The
duration of the third step is determined by the player’s response
time after the “Go” command. The average response time was 829
ms (328.259 SD) where response times for nonmatch were not significantly different from match choices (Nonmatch: 812 ms ⫾ 306 SE,
Match: 846 ms ⫾ 361 SE; t[11] ⫽ 0.913, p ⫽ 0.381). Once picked,
the chosen chip is placed facedown beside the master chip (demonstrated by curved arrows, Figure 1C). Subsequently, the player was
waiting for the opponent’s response for 5–10 s (step 4, “expectancyto-outcome” interval, Figure 1C). Note that the duration of this interval was not of fixed duration and was controlled by the opponent’s
response. The average duration of the “expectancy-to-outcome”
interval was 6394 ms (748 SD) when followed by the “Show” command, and 6701 (837 SD) when followed by “Choose” command
(no-show outcome). The duration of show and no-show outcomes
did not differ significantly.
The number of chips removed or added to the player’s assigned
chips in a round reflects the actual gain or loss, respectively. A
relative gain or loss of a player was defined as the difference between the two possible outcomes (show and no-show) as determined by the opponent’s response (Figure 1F).
Based on the player’s choice and the opponent’s response, there
were four possible outcomes (step 5, “response-to-outcome” interval, Figures 1D and 1E, from top to bottom):
(1) Show nonmatch: The player chose a nonmatch chip and was
Neuron
992
asked to show it. As a consequence, the player suffers a loss
by getting back the picked chip plus two additional chips
(i.e., ⫹2). The player has a relative loss of three, since he
could have disposed of one chip [i.e., (⫹2) ⫺ (⫺1) ⫽ ⫹3].
(2) No-show nonmatch: The player chose a nonmatch chip and
was asked to proceed with the game and choose another
chip. This outcome is an actual gain of the one chip that was
picked (i.e., ⫺1), but a relative gain of three because the
nonmatch choice was not exposed [i.e., (⫺1) ⫺ (⫹2) ⫽ ⫺3].
(3) Show match: The player chose a match chip and was asked
to show it. As a consequence, the player has an actual gain
of two, since he got disposed of the picked chip and one
additional random chip from his assigned chips (i.e., ⫺2).
However, the relative gain is only one [i.e., (⫺2) ⫺ (⫺1) ⫽
⫺1].
(4) No-show match: The player chose a match chip but was
asked to proceed with the game and choose another chip.
This outcome is an actual gain of the one chip that was picked
(i.e., ⫺1), but a relative loss of one chip, since the match
choice was not exposed [i.e., (⫺1) ⫺ (⫺2) ⫽ ⫹1].
The utility of the player as defined by the difference between the
show and no-show outcomes reflects the counterfactual comparisons (Mellers et al., 1999). In our design, outcome of a nonmatch
choice leads to a larger counterfactual comparison magnitude (relative gain or loss of 3) than outcome of a match choice (relative gain
or loss of 1).
Game Course Analyses
Each subject (player) played an average of 4.8 games (2.03 SD) with
the same experimenter—I.K. (opponent). The average duration of a
game was 220 s (45.177 SD), where the shortest game duration was
63 s and the longest was 319 s. 83.4% of the games lasted from 3
to 5 min, where 1 min games comprised only 3.7% and 2 min games
merely 12.9% of all games. 3, 4, and 5 min games constituted 24%,
33.4%, and 26% of all games, respectively.
The average number of rounds per game was 10.51 (2.89 SD).
Games that lasted 1 min or less were considered outliers and therefore were excluded from all later behavioral and fMRI analyses (comprised 3.7% of all games; calculated index: 0.1667 ⫾ 0.237 SD, not
shown in Figure 2A).
Three intervals were highlighted for brain analyses: The “expectancy-to-outcome” interval was defined as starting after the selected chip was placed beside the master chip and ending when
the opponent responded (Figure 1C). The fMRI response during this
interval was sorted according to the player’s choice. To characterize
the player’s choices, a nonmatch choice index was defined as the
division of nonmatch choices by the sum of match and nonmatch
choices. This index represents a nonbiased choice when equal to
0.5 (exactly half of the events were nonmatch choices), a biased
choice for match when smaller than 0.5 or to nonmatch when greater
than 0.5.
The “response-to-outcome” interval was defined as starting after
the opponent’s response (either a “Show” or “Choose” command,
Figure 1D), and lasting for 7.5 s (average duration of the interval:
7144 ms ⫾ 749 SD). The “response-to-outcome” interval following
a “Choose” command (i.e., outcome of no-show) was similarly defined. Finally, for this interval fMRI events were sorted according to
the player’s choice and the opponent’s response. The opponent’s
responses were characterized with a show outcome index. The
index was calculated by dividing the number of show outcomes by
the sum of show and no-show outcomes.
A third interval was defined as baseline for calculation of percent
signal change (Figure 1A). The “decision-making” interval was defined as starting after the command “Choose” and ending before
the “Ready” command. This interval occasionally included the “response-to-outcome” interval following a choose outcome.
An additional analysis was done by sorting each game round
according to the number of chips left for the subject to get rid of
(asset position). Three different asset positions were defined: (1)
low asset (# chips ⱕ 4); (2) medium asset (4 ⬍ # chips ⱕ 12); and
(3) high asset (# chips ⬎ 12). Medium asset position comprised 78%
of all game rounds and was used as a control for the two other
asset classes. The high and low asset classes comprised 10% and
12% of the remaining game rounds, respectively.
fMRI Experimental Procedure
The subjects were given detailed instructions of the game’s rules
and practiced playing against the experimenter (I.K.) for a few
rounds. Thus, when put in the scanner the game’s rules were fully
learned. The same experimenter (I.K.) ran all sessions and played
against all subjects. The experimenter was blind to the specific
chips assigned to the subject, as well as the choices made by the
subject if not exposed. The experimenter heard instructive sounds
and, thus, knew the type of chip when the subject was asked to
expose it. The subject was aware of the fact that he played against
the experimenter.
The stimuli were projected onto a tangent screen mounted in front
of the subject’s eyes in the scanner, and viewed through a tilted
mirror. The commands for the player were presented visually by
words shown on the left corner of the board and aurally via headphones. The subject played the game using a button box with three
possible key-presses (move left, move right, and pick). The experimenter response was presented visually to the player accompanied
by a characteristic sound. Game presentation and response acquisition were controlled by a Pentium II PC using in-house software
written in Visual C⫹⫹ and Directx3.0 (Microsoft Corp.).
MRI Scanning
Blood oxygenation level dependent (BOLD) contrast was obtained
with gradient-echo echo-planar imaging (EPI) sequence (TR ⫽ 2500,
TE ⫽ 55, FA ⫽ 90) on a 1.5T Signa Horizon LX 8.25 GE echospeed
scanner. In order to allow for a large number of acquisitions and
improve the signal-to-noise ratio, we used a small number of slices
centered on the amygdala (LaBar et al., 1998). Four functional slices
of 5 mm thickness with 1 mm gap and the corresponding spin-echo
T1 weighted anatomical images were acquired for each run (i.e.,
one game). The amygdala was anatomically detected clearly in two
to three slices. Considering the image resolution of fMRI and the
signal-to-noise ratio in this area of the brain, it was not possible to
reliably sort out subregions touching the amygdala nuclei such as
substantia innominata and periamygdaloid cortex (Breiter et al.,
1996; Whalen et al., 1998). Therefore, we only present data obtained
from a predefined amygdala region (see below). A 3D spoiled gradient echo sequence was acquired on each subject, in order to allow
for volume statistical analyses of signal changes during the game.
Image Analysis
All fMRI data were processed using the BrainVoyager3.9 software
package (http://www.brainvoyager.com) (Dierks et al., 1999; Goebel
et al., 1998). Prior to statistical analysis of signal, all functional images were evaluated for quality of EPI. One subject was excluded
from image analyses due to significant artifacts of functional images.
For each subject (n ⫽ 12), the 2D functional images were superimposed on 2D anatomical images and incorporated into the 3D data
set through trilinear interpolation. The complete data set was transformed into Talairach space (Talairach and Tournoux, 1988). Pre-processing of functional scans included head movement assessment
(scans with head movement of ⬎1.5 mm were omitted), high-frequency temporal filtering and removal of linear trends.
First, ROIs of the amygdala were defined anatomically for each
subject. Amygdala borders were determined on the axial view and
were limited by the tip of lateral ventricles. Group average for the
ROI approach was based on a random effects model. The average
size of the ROIs was 5401.25 mm (2092.203 SD) for the left amygdala
and 4844.25 mm (1910.11 SD) for right amygdala. The center of the
structurally defined clusters was 20.5, ⫺5.5, ⫺14.2 and ⫺20.6, ⫺4.4,
⫺14.8 for left and right amygdala, respectively (see Supplemental
Data at http://www.neuron.org/cgi/content/full/33/6/983/DC1). Table 1 for single subject data shows the average size and center of
gravity for the individual anatomical ROIs. In addition to ROI analysis,
parametric maps were calculated separately for each subject using
a GLM (Friston et al., 1995), with game events as predictors. A
lag of 7.5 s (i.e., three repetitions) was used to account for the
hemodynamic response delay. Although we employed an eventrelated design, we assumed no overlap of the hemodynamic re-
Amygdala Signals Prospective Outcome of Choice
993
sponses between events since inter-event intervals lasted 10–15 s.
To create a parametric map, EPI images were transformed to Talairach space, Z-normalized, and concatenated, and statistical tests
were done on the concatenated time courses. Parametric maps for
each subject and for a group average (n ⫽ 12) were derived using
a fixed effects model, applied separately for events of “expectancyto-outcome” and “response-to-outcome” intervals (Figures 4 and
6, respectively).
Further statistical analyses on fMRI signal that were obtained from
both approaches were done with StatView 5.0.1 (SAS Institute Inc.).
The baseline for calculating percent signal changes of the hemodynamic responses was defined as the average signal obtained from
all “decision making” intervals. This interval essentially represents
the process of thinking about the next step (subjects were unable
to move the cursor until the ready command appeared).
Acknowledgments
We thank Yaara Yeshurun for her significant help in data analyses,
Vivian Drori for helping with the SCRs data collection, Pazit Pianka
and Silvia Bunge for editing the manuscript, Rafael Malach for helpful suggestions on data analysis, and D. Badre for valuable comments on the manuscript. We thank Nadav Aleh for providing motivation for this research. This work was supported by Tel Aviv Sourasky
Medical Center, Adams Super Center for Brain Studies, and Minerva
Center for Applied Geometry, Tel Aviv University, and Academy of
Science Center of Excellence.
Received: April 25, 2001
Revised: January 17, 2002
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