What Is Trypophobia? And Is It Real?


When I look at the above photo of a harmless lotus seed head, the skin on my neck crawls, my heart flutters, my shoulders tighten, and I shiver, breaking out in goosebumps. It makes me want to curl up in a ball under my desk and quietly weep. 

What provokes this intense visceral reaction? Holes. Specifically, clusters of holes. Take a look at this utterly innocent picture of milk boiling in a pot, which made me yelp and nearly leap out of my chair:

Image Credit: CWM93 via Imgur

Am I crazy? Maybe, but not because I have a strong revulsion to clusters of holes and sometimes bumps. Instead, I have what is colloquially known as trypophobia. This isn't an officially recognized phobia; you won't find it in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. But you will find it all over the Internet, and as we all know, if it's on the Internet, it must be true.

The term trypophobia is rumored to have been coined in 2005 by an anonymous Irish woman in a Web forum who clearly tapped into a zeitgeist of GAH! The term's use online really took off around 2009, especially in the Philippines. Today you can find countless examples of people sharing photos of holes that deeply rattle them. While many, like the lotus seed pod and boiling milk, are au naturel shots of real, mostly innocuous objects, others are poorly photoshopped yet nevertheless appalling pictures of cluster holes superimposed mostly on human bodies—especially faces. (Click here at your peril.)

Many images of holes, singular or clustered, trigger people for understandable reasons: They depict severe injuries that require treatments like skin grafts; the flesh-violating impact of parasites like bot flies and worms; or the frightening ravages of disease. (Then there is the frankly horrifying, pregnant suriname toad, whose entire back is pockmarked with holes filled by babies, which at birth punch through her skin and leap from her back as toadlets. Thanks, evolution.)

It makes sense to have a healthy fear of things that can endanger us. But why fall to pieces over pancake batter?

Or cry about cantaloupe?

Or get creeped out by coral?

The little research done into trypophobia suggests it's an instinctual fear of harm from legitimately dangerous things that's been transferred to harmless objects. As they reported in the journal Psychological Science, Geoff Cole and Allen Wilkins, two researchers at the Centre for Brain Science at the University of Essex, performed a spectral analysis on 76 images that induce trypophobia (pulled from, and compared them to 76 control images of holes that didn't trigger a revulsed response. They found that the triggering images shared a typical spectral composition: high-contrast colors in a particular spatial distribution.

They say plenty of dangerous animals share this look. "We argue that although sufferers are not conscious of the association, the phobia arises in part because the inducing stimuli share basic visual characteristics with dangerous organisms," they wrote. Consider the blue-ringed octopus, which is deadly venomous:


In the same study, the researchers showed a picture of a lotus seed head (ugh) to 91 men and 195 women aged 18 to 55 years; 11 percent of the men and 18 percent of women described the seed head as “uncomfortable or even repulsive to look at.” 

Others are doubtful that trypophobia is anything more than a combination of anxiety, priming, and conditioning, as psychiatrist and anxiety disorder specialist Carol Mathews explained to NPR. But more recent research by the Essex scientists, in which they developed and tested a trypophobia questionnaire, suggests that trypophobic reactions are not correlated with anxiety.

Not all images that give people the trypophobic heebie jeebies are organic. Soap bubbles are a common trigger, as are holes in rocks. Here is some aluminum metal foam to fuel your nightmares. Enjoy!

Image Credit: Metalfoam, Wikimedia Commons // CC BY-SA 3.0
MARS Bioimaging
The World's First Full-Color 3D X-Rays Have Arrived
MARS Bioimaging
MARS Bioimaging

The days of drab black-and-white, 2D X-rays may finally be over. Now, if you want to see what your broken ankle looks like in all its full-color, 3D glory, you can do so thanks to new body-scanning technology. The machine, spotted by BGR, comes courtesy of New Zealand-based manufacturer MARS Bioimaging.

It’s called the MARS large bore spectral scanner, and it uses spectral molecular imaging (SMI) to produce images that are fully colorized and in 3D. While visually appealing, the technology isn’t just about aesthetics—it could help doctors identify issues more accurately and provide better care.

Its pixel detectors, called “Medipix” chips, allow the machine to identify colors and distinguish between materials that look the same on regular CT scans, like calcium, iodine, and gold, Buzzfeed reports. Bone, fat, and water are also differentiated by color, and it can detect details as small as a strand of hair.

“It gives you a lot more information, and that’s very useful for medical imaging. It enables you to do a lot of diagnosis you can’t do otherwise,” Phil Butler, the founder/CEO of MARS Bioimaging and a physicist at the University of Canterbury, says in a video. “When you [have] a black-and-white camera photographing a tree with its leaves, you can’t tell whether the leaves are healthy or not. But if you’ve got a color camera, you can see whether they’re healthy leaves or diseased.”

The images are even more impressive in motion. This rotating image of an ankle shows "lipid-like" materials (like cartilage and skin) in beige, and soft tissue and muscle in red.

The technology took roughly a decade to develop. However, MARS is still working on scaling up production, so it may be some time before the machine is available commercially.

[h/t BGR]

ESA/Herschel/SPIRE; M. W. L. Smith et al 2017
Look Closely—Every Point of Light in This Image Is a Galaxy
ESA/Herschel/SPIRE; M. W. L. Smith et al 2017
ESA/Herschel/SPIRE; M. W. L. Smith et al 2017

Even if you stare closely at this seemingly grainy image, you might not be able to tell there’s anything to it besides visual noise. But it's not static—it's a sliver of the distant universe, and every little pinprick of light is a galaxy.

As Gizmodo reports, the image was produced by the European Space Agency’s Herschel Space Observatory, a space-based infrared telescope that was launched into orbit in 2009 and was decommissioned in 2013. Created by Herschel’s Spectral and Photometric Imaging Receiver (SPIRE) and Photodetector Array Camera and Spectrometer (PACS), it looks out from our galaxy toward the North Galactic Pole, a point that lies perpendicular to the Milky Way's spiral near the constellation Coma Berenices.

A close-up of a view of distant galaxies taken by the Herschel Space Observatory
ESA/Herschel/SPIRE; M. W. L. Smith et al 2017

Each point of light comes from the heat of dust grains between different stars in a galaxy. These areas of dust gave off this radiation billions of years before reaching Herschel. Around 1000 of those pins of light belong to galaxies in the Coma Cluster (named for Coma Berenices), one of the densest clusters of galaxies in the known universe.

The longer you look at it, the smaller you’ll feel.

[h/t Gizmodo]


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