Western Association for Biofeedback and Neuroscience — Spring 2017 27 trial and error all the way down to a uni- tary approach—in addition to furnishing a rationale for proceeding at all down this path. And whereas Sterman himself remained there for the rest of his profes- sional life, others among us took this as a launch pad for wider explorations of the clinical frontier. And this is where the trial-and-error method paid off. It must also be admitted, however, that it took us years to leave the comfort zone of the SMR-beta training on the sensorimotor strip. It had already been a goldmine, and we were highly motivated at the time to stick with one mainline approach. It offered a broad clinical footprint, and it allowed the emerging discipline to “sing with one voice.” What came to be known as “C3beta-C4SMR” seemed to meet our objectives, and we taught that to thou- sands of professionals over nearly a de- cade. Eventually this led to the evolution of a clinical method that bears very little resemblance to the original protocol, al- though the core principles remain. The parentage of infra-low frequency training is clear. The method is not only frequen- cy-based, but also frequency-specific; placement is reasonably standard and mechanisms-based; the montage is bipo- lar; the differential response of the two hemispheres is respected; and the target is core regulatory function. We are deal- ing here with a mere generalization of the original Sterman method with respect to placement and frequency. What a shame that Sterman declared himself to be uninterested. This became apparent when Sterman offered to sur- vey the prevailing state of the field for his SABA Conference audience some years back. He called and we had the only con- versation we have ever had about our work with infra-low frequency training. “What about the rewards at these low frequen- cies? What is the latency of the reward?” he asked, figuring he had me cornered. “There are no rewards, Barry. People are just watching the signal.” And that was effectively the end of the conversation, when it should have been the beginning. This brings to mind a story related by Hershel Toomim. Early in his college career he approached a physicist to ask whether he should go into physics. “You aren’t sufficiently curious,” came the an- swer. Really? When considered in the context of his adopted field, Hershel had much more curiosity than most. He end- ed up in engineering. This takes us back then to the matter of observations. What is the impetus? What sets us apart from the meerkats, who likely have no peer when it comes to the primacy of observational compass and vigilance. In the scientific context, there needs to be something like an insatiable curiosity, an unruly and restless spirit of inquiry, a roving mind that does not put blinders on itself, to motivate systematic, persistent observation. And finally, there needs to be a kind of provisional guiding hypothesis as well. In the clinical setting, there must be some kind of attachment bond to sustain the connection with the client, and there must be an ongoing pro- visional narrative to organize thinking. This manifestly fecund process, which underpins much of empirical scientific research, has somehow been unable to shed its second-class status within our field. Instead we have historically set high evidentiary standards for ideas even to be