Imagination
The Imagination Network Is Not the Villain
What mindfulness researchers get wrong about the imagination network.
Posted June 14, 2026 Reviewed by Jessica Schrader
Key points
- The default mode network—the brain's Imagination Network—drives memory, empathy, and creativity.
- Rumination isn't mind-wandering: a ruminating mind is locked in one groove, not roaming free.
- Whether mind-wandering helps or hurts depends on its content and type, not the wandering itself.
“A wandering mind is an unhappy mind,” declared Killingsworth & Gilbert.
And reader, to borrow a phrase from Michael Jordan: I took it personally.
I’m a creativity researcher who has spent years studying the upside of the wandering mind—positive-constructive daydreaming: the playful, future-oriented inner life that fuels imagination and insight. And Jerome L. Singer, the “father of daydreaming” who pioneered that whole line of work, became a close personal friend and sat on my dissertation committee. He is, I’m quite sure, rolling in his grave every time he hears a mindfulness researcher hate on the cognitive machinery behind daydreaming.
They’ve got the wrong villain.
Meet the accused
The “default mode network” is the system that’s most active when you turn inward—when you stop chasing an external goal and start to drift, remember, imagine, reflect, and wonder. I’ve spent my career arguing the exact opposite, which is why I call it the Imagination Network: because what it’s doing is anything but nothing!
Here’s the résumé of the accused:
- It writes your story. It builds your autobiographical memory—the running internal narrative that makes you you across time.
- It travels through time. It lets you imagine your future self, rehearse your goals, and run the “what if” scenarios that planning a life requires.
- It reads other minds. It’s the seat of perspective-taking, empathy, and theory of mind.
- It incubates your best ideas—and powers creative flow.
These are not idle defaults or bugs to be patched out. They are the soul of human existence! They are, in the most literal sense, essential to self-actualization itself.
And here’s the part the mindfulness researchers keep missing: the network they smear as the self-absorbed “me” network is also the “us” network. It’s how we connect—and how we love.
That is not the résumé of a villain. That’s the résumé of the most human part of the human brain.
The real culprit was never the network
So why does the network keep showing up at the scene of every crime? Because it also hosts rumination—the stuck, self-attacking loop where the same dark thought circles the drain.
But here’s the irony: rumination isn’t even really wandering. When you ruminate, your mind isn’t roaming free—it’s locked in, grinding one groove.
“A wandering mind is an unhappy mind” turned out to be far more nuanced than the title promised: whether mind-wandering lifts or sinks your mood depends on its content and type. Spontaneous, negative, can’t-stop-it wandering hurts. Deliberate, prospective, playful wandering helps.
The crime isn’t wandering. It’s getting trapped in your wanderings, and losing the freedom to wander back out.
The irony that gives the whole thing away
I find it rather amusing that the people prosecuting the Imagination Network keep, in the same breath, marveling at its gifts.
For most of Michael Pollan's book How to Change Your Mind, the default mode network is presented as the ego to be vanquished. In his final chapter, he closes with a triumphant coda titled “Going to Meet My Default Mode Network,” in which he straps on a 128-electrode cap in Judson Brewer’s lab to drive down activity in his posterior cingulate cortex—a major hub of the Imagination Network. The whole arc of the book seems to point to this defining moment where he considers the whole journey a success because he silenced his Imagination Network.
This is really strange because then in the epilogue of the book he ends in rapture over a mental space that keeps handing him “usable ideas, images, or metaphors”—“one of the great gifts” of the journey. Folks: that’s positive-constructive daydreaming. That’s the Imagination Network. He demonizes it for nearly 400 pages, then ends his book in awe of it.
A strong sense of self is a very different thing than a strong ego. You can have a quiet ego and maintain a strong sense of who you are, what you value, and who you wish to become.
You don’t have to dissolve the imagination to be free. You have to free it.
To be fair to the prosecution
I’m not here to tell you meditation doesn’t work. I’m a regular mindfulness meditation practitioner myself. I did the full eight-week Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction course and came away genuinely changed. The benefits are real, and meditation is excellent training for the executive attention network. But the single deepest thing I learned on the cushion is the very point of this essay: mindfulness is not the opposite of mind-wandering.
A regular meditation practice doesn’t delete the imagination network; it tunes it, calming the self-critical, ruminative parts while leaving the imaginative ones free to roam. Regulation isn’t suppression—it’s the freedom to choose when to focus and when to wander.
It’s the integration, not the war
My colleagues and I have been showing that creative cognition requires a strong integration between the executive attention network and the Imagination Network. The receipts, if you want them: default–executive coupling supports creative idea production; openness to experience and default-network efficiency; how eminent and non-eminent thinkers differ during creative thought; brain morphometry and creative achievement; and Roger Beaty’s recent work showing that “control-default hubs” act as an integrative core for complex cognition and creativity.
In our work, the Imagination Network isn’t the villain. It’s the hero.
And I suspect that’s the real reason the default mode network keeps getting cast as the enemy. Underneath the neuroscience sits an older ideology—that the self is the problem, and the destination is no self at all.
But run that program to completion and you don’t get a sage. You get a freaking zombie! No inner life, no rich imagination, no thoughts of the future, no contact with your own deepest memories, and no self left to actualize. Who, exactly, wants that? The whole game is the two networks working together—and keeping the strong sense of self.
A different goal
The aim of a life well-lived is not a quiet mind. It’s a free one—a mind that can drop fully into the present when the present is what’s called for, and roam the past, the future, and the wildly possible when that’s what’s called for, and move flexibly between the two.
So no—I won’t be “defeating” my default mode network. I’ll keep it, thank you very much! The rumination I’ll work on. The imagination I’m keeping for good.
The Imagination Network isn’t the villain of your inner life. It’s the protagonist.
