APA Citation
Teicher, M., Samson, J., Anderson, C., & Ohashi, K. (2016). The Effects of Childhood Maltreatment on Brain Structure, Function and Connectivity. *Nature Reviews Neuroscience*, 17, 652--666. https://doi.org/10.1038/nrn.2016.111
What This Research Found
Martin Teicher's landmark 2016 review in Nature Reviews Neuroscience represents the culmination of decades of research demonstrating that childhood maltreatment produces profound, measurable changes in brain structure, function, and connectivity. Drawing on neuroimaging studies, behavioural research, and developmental neurobiology, Teicher and colleagues provide the most comprehensive account available of how abuse and neglect reshape the developing brain.
The maltreatment affects specific brain systems in predictable ways. Teicher's review documents consistent findings across studies: the amygdala—the brain's threat detection centre—shows heightened reactivity in maltreated individuals, particularly to threatening facial expressions and social stimuli. The hippocampus, critical for memory and contextual processing, shows reduced volume. The prefrontal cortex, responsible for emotional regulation and executive function, shows altered structure and weakened connectivity to limbic regions. The reward system shows blunted response to positive stimuli. The corpus callosum, which integrates the brain's hemispheres, shows reduced size. These are not subtle effects detectable only with sophisticated analysis—they are substantial alterations visible in brain scans.
The timing of maltreatment determines which systems are most affected. Teicher's research reveals that different brain regions have different sensitive periods—windows of heightened neuroplasticity when they are most vulnerable to environmental input. The hippocampus is particularly sensitive during early childhood. The prefrontal cortex remains plastic through adolescence. Sensory systems have their own timing windows. Maltreatment during a region's sensitive period produces more significant and lasting alterations than maltreatment outside that window. This explains why identical abuse can produce different neurobiological profiles depending on when it occurred—and why early childhood maltreatment often produces the most pervasive effects.
The brain changes may be adaptive rather than simply toxic. Teicher proposes a crucial reframing: the neurobiological alterations seen in maltreated individuals may represent adaptations to a dangerous environment rather than mere damage. A sensitised amygdala detects threats faster. Heightened stress reactivity—mediated by cortisol and the HPA axis—mobilises resources quickly. Altered reward system processing reduces dependence on caregivers who cannot be trusted. These changes have survival value in threatening environments. The problem is that adaptations suited to chronic danger become liabilities when the environment changes—hypervigilance exhausts; blunted reward reduces quality of life; weakened regulation impairs relationships. The brain optimised for survival in childhood struggles to thrive in the different environment of adulthood.
The alterations affect network architecture, not just individual structures. Beyond changes in specific brain regions, Teicher documents altered connectivity between regions—the way different parts of the brain communicate and coordinate. Maltreated individuals show increased connectivity in threat-detection networks and decreased connectivity between prefrontal regulatory regions and limbic emotional regions. The brain is not simply damaged in spots; it is reorganised as a system, with information flowing differently through the whole network. This network-level reorganisation explains why effects are so pervasive—the entire architecture of brain function has been modified.
The effects persist decades after maltreatment ends. The brain changes Teicher documents are not temporary responses to stress that resolve when the stress ends. They persist into adulthood, decades after the maltreatment itself. The brain developed under conditions of chronic threat; it carries that developmental history forward. This persistence explains why survivors cannot simply "move on" or "get over" childhood abuse through willpower or insight alone—they are working against neurobiological changes consolidated during critical periods of brain development.
How This Research Is Used in the Book
Teicher's research appears throughout Narcissus and the Child as foundational evidence that narcissistic abuse during childhood produces measurable, lasting changes in brain structure and function. The citation appears in seven chapters, making it one of the most frequently referenced works in the book.
In Chapter 10: Diamorphic Scales, Teicher's research grounds the discussion of how early childhood stress reshapes neural networks:
"Early life stress produces major network-level changes. The developing brain has enhanced plasticity, which means it is especially vulnerable to stress-induced reorganisation. The child's neural network is conditioned during those critical periods when it is most malleable."
The chapter traces how this early conditioning persists through later development:
"Further developmental changes occur against this altered baseline. The adolescent pruning process, which normally eliminates unused connections, operates on a network that was abnormally configured from the start. The abnormal configuration is strengthened rather than corrected."
In Chapter 5: The Neural Scales, Teicher's work demonstrates how the anterior insula—a critical hub for empathy and emotional awareness—is affected by early adversity:
"The AI and ACC, where VENs reside, are significantly affected by early adversity. Structural imaging shows reduced volume in these regions in individuals with histories of childhood maltreatment."
In Chapter 11: Neurological Contagion, the research explains how narcissistic parenting produces specific personality changes through neurobiological mechanisms:
"Weakened prefrontal-amygdala connectivity compromises emotion regulation capacity, manifesting as the emotional instability and difficulty managing negative affect that characterise high neuroticism."
And further:
"Prefrontal volume reduction observed in those with significant childhood adversity directly reduces the structural substrate of conscientious behaviour."
In Chapter 12: The Unseen Child, Teicher's earlier work on corpus callosum changes grounds the discussion of parentification:
"Neuroimaging studies demonstrate that emotional abuse and neglect, including parentification, reduce corpus callosum volume, affecting hemispheric integration and contributing to lifelong emotional dysregulation."
The chapter later synthesises Teicher's broader findings:
"Teicher found reduced hippocampal volume (affecting memory consolidation), alterations in the corpus callosum (affecting hemispheric integration), changes in the prefrontal cortex (affecting executive function and emotional regulation). Measurable neurobiological alterations from chronic developmental stress, beyond mere psychological symptoms. The narcissist's abuse literally reshapes the child's brain."
In Chapter 13: The Great Accelerant, Teicher's research provides the comparison point demonstrating that digital media produces the same neural changes as narcissistic parenting:
"Children of narcissistic parents show hyperactive amygdala response to social threat, the product of chronic unpredictability. Adolescents who habitually check social media show progressive increases in amygdala activation during social anticipation—the same structure, the same hypersensitivity."
Throughout the book, Teicher's work serves as the neurobiological foundation for understanding that narcissistic abuse is not merely psychologically harmful but literally restructures the developing brain—and that understanding this restructuring is essential for realistic expectations about healing.
Why This Matters for Survivors
If you were raised by a narcissistic parent, Teicher's research validates something you may have sensed but struggled to articulate: that the effects of your childhood are not merely psychological—they are biological, inscribed in the very structure and function of your brain.
Your hypervigilance is neurological, not neurotic. The constant scanning for danger, the inability to relax even in safe situations, the startle response that fires at minor stimuli—these reflect a sensitised amygdala that learned during development to detect threats at low thresholds. Your brain developed in an environment of chronic, unpredictable threat. It learned to be on high alert because being on high alert was adaptive—it kept you safer. The hypervigilance is not weakness or paranoia; it is your brain doing exactly what it learned to do. The challenge of healing is teaching your nervous system that the environment has changed, that the threat level it prepared for no longer exists.
Your emotional regulation difficulties have biological substrates. The emotional flooding, the difficulty calming yourself when upset, the intensity of reactions that others seem to manage easily—these reflect weakened connectivity between your prefrontal cortex and limbic system. The prefrontal cortex, which should regulate emotional responses, developed with inadequate connections to the amygdala. This is not a character flaw or lack of effort. It is architecture—the regulatory infrastructure that should have been built during development was not properly constructed. Building it now, in adulthood, requires intensive work precisely because you are not repairing something that once worked but constructing something that was never fully built.
The depth of the changes explains why healing is hard. Teicher's finding that changes occur during sensitive periods and persist decades later explains why you cannot simply "move on" or "get over" your childhood. You are not dealing with bad memories that should fade with time. You are dealing with altered brain architecture that was constructed during periods of maximum plasticity and consolidated over years. Healing requires changing neural patterns that were laid down when the brain was most malleable. This is harder in adulthood, but neuroplasticity continues throughout life. The same capacity for change that allowed harmful patterns to form allows healing patterns to develop—it simply takes more time and more intensive effort than it would have in childhood.
Understanding the biology can reduce self-blame. Many survivors internalise the message that they should be "over it by now," that continued struggles reflect weakness or unwillingness to heal. Teicher's research refutes this: the effects of childhood maltreatment are inscribed in brain structure and function. Your struggles are not failures of willpower but consequences of neurobiology. This understanding does not excuse giving up on healing—neuroplasticity means change remains possible—but it contextualises why healing is hard and why it takes time. You are not failing to do something simple; you are attempting something genuinely difficult at a biological level.
Clinical Implications
For psychiatrists, psychologists, and trauma-informed healthcare providers, Teicher's research has direct implications for assessment and treatment of survivors of childhood maltreatment, including narcissistic abuse.
Developmental timing should inform clinical assessment and treatment planning. Teicher's documentation of sensitive periods means that when maltreatment occurred matters as much as what happened. Clinicians should assess not just whether childhood adversity occurred but when, for how long, and which developmental windows were affected. Patients whose maltreatment occurred during early childhood—when the hippocampus and attachment circuits are most plastic—may have different profiles than those whose trauma began later. This information informs treatment expectations: early childhood trauma affecting multiple sensitive periods typically requires more intensive, longer-term intervention.
The "adaptive" framing has therapeutic value. Teicher's proposal that brain changes may be adaptations rather than damage offers clinicians a reframe that reduces shame and pathologisation. Rather than telling patients their brains are "damaged," clinicians can explain that their brains adapted to survive a dangerous environment—and that the challenge now is developing new adaptations suited to a safer environment. This framing honours the survival function of symptoms while acknowledging the need for change. The hypervigilance that exhausts the patient once kept them alive; the emotional blunting that impairs relationships once protected them from unbearable pain.
Treatment must address multiple systems simultaneously. Teicher's documentation of changes in threat detection, emotional regulation, reward processing, and network connectivity suggests that treatment focusing on only one system may be insufficient. A patient may need work on anxiety (threat detection), emotional regulation (prefrontal-limbic connectivity), anhedonia (reward system), and dissociation (network integration) simultaneously or sequentially. Multi-modal treatment approaches—combining body-based therapies like somatic experiencing, cognitive work, relational work, and potentially pharmacological support—may better match the multi-system nature of the alterations.
Consider pharmacological support for neuroplastic enhancement. While Teicher's research does not directly address treatment, the neuroplasticity framework suggests that pharmacological agents supporting brain plasticity—particularly those affecting BDNF and serotonin signalling—might enhance therapeutic gains. SSRIs, which increase neuroplasticity, combined with intensive psychotherapy may achieve changes that either alone cannot. This approach mirrors the "critical period reopening" research being explored for other developmental conditions and suggests that pharmacotherapy may play a supportive role in helping adult brains develop new patterns.
Treatment duration should match developmental depth. Standard outpatient therapy—weekly 50-minute sessions—may be insufficient for patients whose brain architecture was shaped during critical periods. Teicher's findings suggest that developmental trauma represents a different order of challenge than adult-onset trauma or discrete stressors. Clinicians should advocate for treatment intensity matching the depth of the alterations: more frequent sessions, longer-term treatment, and potentially intensive outpatient or residential programmes for severe cases. Setting realistic expectations—years rather than months—reduces demoralisation when progress is slower than patients hope.
Broader Implications
Teicher's research extends beyond individual treatment to illuminate patterns affecting families, institutions, and society at large.
The Intergenerational Transmission of Trauma
Teicher's findings provide a neurobiological mechanism for intergenerational trauma. Parents whose brains were shaped by childhood maltreatment carry those alterations into their own parenting: a sensitised amygdala that overreacts to child behaviour; weakened prefrontal regulation that produces emotional volatility; blunted reward circuits that reduce capacity for joy in parenting. The attachment patterns that develop in this context—often disorganised attachment—further transmit vulnerability to the next generation. The child's brain, developing in this environment, adapts to a parent whose own brain adapted to abuse—transmitting alterations across generations not through genetics alone but through the neurobiological effects of parenting style. Breaking these cycles requires intervening at the level of parental brain function, not just parenting behaviour.
Relationship Patterns in Adulthood
Adults whose reward systems were shaped by intermittent reinforcement—the unpredictable alternation of affection and cruelty characteristic of narcissistic parenting—carry altered dopaminergic circuits into adult relationships, often developing trauma bonds that replicate early patterns. Teicher's documentation of blunted reward response helps explain why survivors often find stable, consistent relationships "boring" while chaotic relationships feel intensely alive. The reward system learned to respond to unpredictability; consistent affection doesn't trigger the same neurochemical response, often mediated by altered dopamine signalling. Understanding this as neurobiology rather than character helps survivors recognise and work with their patterns rather than simply blaming themselves for "choosing wrong."
Workplace and Organisational Dynamics
Survivors of developmental trauma enter workplaces with altered threat detection, emotional regulation, and reward systems. Teicher's research helps explain why hierarchical environments with unpredictable leadership, public criticism, or chronic uncertainty may be particularly difficult for this population. The sensitised amygdala fires at supervisor criticism; the weakened prefrontal-limbic connectivity produces emotional reactions that feel disproportionate; the blunted reward system fails to register normal workplace satisfactions. Organisations that understand these dynamics can design management practices that support rather than retraumatise employees with developmental trauma histories.
Legal and Policy Considerations
Teicher's documentation of prefrontal changes affecting executive function and emotional regulation has implications for legal systems. Defendants whose early maltreatment altered the brain regions governing impulse control and emotional regulation may genuinely have reduced capacity in these domains—not as legal excuse but as neurobiological reality informing sentencing, rehabilitation, and reentry. Family courts making custody decisions should understand that exposing children to maltreatment during sensitive periods may produce brain changes lasting decades. The neuroscience cannot determine legal outcomes, but it should inform them.
Educational Settings
Schools interact with children during sensitive periods for brain development. Teicher's research suggests that educational environments should minimise threat and chronic stress—not just for wellbeing but for optimal brain development. Punitive discipline that activates threat circuitry during development may produce lasting alterations. Trauma-informed educational practices that prioritise felt safety and emotional regulation support may protect developing brains from the alterations Teicher documents. Teacher training should include understanding of how chronic stress affects brain development and how classroom environments can either exacerbate or buffer these effects.
Public Health Framework
Teicher explicitly identifies childhood maltreatment as "the leading preventable risk factor for mental illness and substance abuse." This framing places childhood adversity—including exposure to narcissistic parents and the full spectrum of adverse childhood experiences—within a public health model where prevention is paramount. Investing in parental support, early intervention for at-risk families, accessible mental health services, and policies reducing family stress becomes not merely humane but cost-effective. The downstream costs of maltreatment-related brain changes—in healthcare, criminal justice, disability, and lost productivity—dwarf the costs of prevention. Teicher's research provides the neurobiological foundation for treating childhood adversity as a public health crisis warranting population-level intervention. Understanding these effects also illuminates the development of Complex PTSD, which emerges specifically from prolonged, repeated trauma in contexts where escape is impossible—exactly the situation of a child with a maltreating caregiver.
Limitations and Considerations
Teicher's influential work has important limitations that warrant acknowledgment for responsible interpretation.
Correlation does not establish causation in human studies. While Teicher documents consistent associations between maltreatment and brain changes, human research cannot ethically use experimental designs that would establish causation definitively. Individuals with certain brain characteristics might be more likely to be mistreated, or third variables (poverty, parental mental illness) might affect both maltreatment risk and brain development. Animal studies and prospective human studies support causal interpretation, but certainty remains elusive.
Individual variation is substantial. Not all maltreated individuals show the same brain changes, and the variability in findings across studies is significant. Genetic factors, the presence of protective factors, the specific type and timing of maltreatment, and other variables all influence outcomes. Teicher's findings describe patterns across groups, but individual patients may not fit the general profile.
The "adaptive" framing has limits. While Teicher's proposal that brain changes may be adaptive is valuable for reducing pathologisation, it can be overextended. Calling something "adaptive" does not mean it is optimal, wanted, or shouldn't be changed. The adaptations had survival value in dangerous environments; they cause suffering in safer contexts. The adaptive framing contextualises but does not excuse the damage.
Translation from neuroimaging to clinical practice remains incomplete. Teicher documents brain changes visible in research scans, but individual clinical decisions cannot yet be made based on neuroimaging. The findings inform understanding but do not yet provide diagnostic biomarkers or treatment algorithms. Clinicians must work with the behavioural and symptomatic presentations rather than direct neural measurements.
Historical Context
Martin Teicher's 2016 review represents the maturation of a research programme he began in the 1980s. His earlier work established that childhood maltreatment affected brain development; the 2016 review synthesised three decades of accumulating evidence into a comprehensive framework.
Teicher's 2003 Scientific American article "Scars That Won't Heal" brought these findings to public attention, demonstrating that the effects of abuse are not merely psychological but neurobiological. His 2006 paper in Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews provided detailed documentation of specific brain changes. The 2016 review built on this foundation while adding the crucial theoretical contribution of the adaptive framework.
The research emerged alongside developments in neuroimaging technology that made studying brain structure and function in living humans feasible. Earlier researchers could only examine brains post-mortem; Teicher's generation could see the living effects of maltreatment through MRI and fMRI. This technological capability, combined with Teicher's sustained focus on developmental trauma, produced the most comprehensive neurobiological account of childhood maltreatment's effects available.
Published in Nature Reviews Neuroscience—one of the field's most prestigious venues—the 2016 review has been cited over 2,500 times and continues to serve as a foundational reference for researchers, clinicians, and policymakers working on childhood adversity. Teicher's broader work, spanning over 200 publications, has been cited over 47,000 times, establishing him as one of the most influential researchers in developmental trauma neuroscience.
The historical significance of this work extends beyond academia. By demonstrating that childhood maltreatment produces measurable brain changes, Teicher's research has helped shift public understanding from viewing abuse effects as psychological weakness to recognising them as neurobiological reality. This shift has implications for everything from clinical treatment to legal proceedings to public policy.
Further Reading
- Teicher, M.H. & Samson, J.A. (2016). Annual Research Review: Enduring neurobiological effects of childhood abuse and neglect. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 57(3), 241-266.
- Teicher, M.H. (2003). Scars that won't heal: The neurobiology of child abuse. Scientific American, 286(3), 68-75.
- Teicher, M.H. et al. (2006). The neurobiological consequences of early stress and childhood maltreatment. Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews, 27(1-2), 33-44.
- McLaughlin, K.A. et al. (2014). Childhood adversity and neural development: Deprivation and threat as distinct dimensions of early experience. Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews, 47, 578-591.
- Dannlowski, U. et al. (2012). Limbic scars: Long-term consequences of childhood maltreatment revealed by functional and structural magnetic resonance imaging. Biological Psychiatry, 71(4), 286-293.
- McCrory, E.J. et al. (2017). Annual Research Review: Childhood maltreatment, latent vulnerability and the shift to preventative psychiatry. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 58(4), 338-357.