The phrase ‘unboiling the egg’ evokes the impossible: once heat has transformed the contents of an egg, there is no turning back, no means of returning the yolk and white to their original, separate, fluid states. This commonly used analogy has helped convey the futility of attempting to reverse certain processes—whether physical, emotional, or psychological. Mithu Storoni uses this metaphor in her 2017 book Stress Proof. A medical doctor from the University of Cambridge and a doctorate in neuro-ophthalmology at the National Hospital for Neurology and Neurosurgery in London, she mentioned that under specific laboratory conditions, it is possible to ‘unboil’ a hen’s egg.

This led me to learn about the Ig Nobel Prize, a word play on ignoble. It is a light-hearted take on the Nobel Prize, which began in 1991, celebrating something unusual yet significant. To drive home the irony, a lone banknote of 10 trillion Zimbabwean dollars is presented, which is actually worth only about US$0.40.

Researchers at the University of California, Irvine, and Flinders University in Australia, led by Colin Raston (b. 1950), won the 2015 Ig Nobel Prize in Chemistry for developing a Vortex Fluidic Device (VFD) that can ‘unboil’ proteins in an egg, effectively reversing the protein-folding process caused by cooking. While the method doesn’t fully restore the egg’s original state, it untangles the denatured proteins and returns them to a clear, fluid state.

So, instead of laughing it off, I saw this development cast the metaphor in a new light, inviting us to reconsider our assumptions about change, especially in the context of mental conditioning and personal growth. Can we, like the laboratory egg, ‘unboil’ our own minds, shedding layers of learned behaviour or trauma to become better versions of ourselves?

From birth, people’s minds are shaped and reshaped by countless influences—family, society, education, trauma, success, and failure. The traditional outlook is that mental impressions are permanent, etched forever upon the consciousness. Once trust is broken, can it ever be fully restored? Once trauma is experienced, can its effects ever truly be erased? In this framing, attempts at self-improvement or recovery may seem Sisyphean—meaningful, perhaps, but ultimately unable to undo the past.

Thus, ‘egg boiling’ is seen as the process of mental conditioning: each experience, lesson, or hardship is like heat, denaturing the proteins of our psyche, binding us into new forms. Over time, neural pathways are established, habits are formed, and patterns of thought become solidified. Just as a hard-boiled egg is the product of heat and time, so too are our personalities, anxieties, and worldviews the result of accumulated experiences and learned responses.

By adding a chemical agent and using a vortex fluid device, Raston restored cooked proteins to their original, uncooked state. This breakthrough, meant for biomedical research and protein manufacturing, also presents a potent metaphor: with the right tools and knowledge, even changes once thought irreversible can be undone—or at least reconfigured.

So, if protein ‘denaturation’ can, in some circumstances, be reversed, might we also find ways to unbind the hardened, conditioned responses of our minds? While we cannot return to a true psychological ‘blank slate,’ modern psychology and neuroscience suggest that profound change is possible through neuroplasticity, therapy, introspection, and new experiences. The brain, far from being fixed, is dynamic and adaptive.

Essentially, mental conditioning encompasses the beliefs, biases, fears, and habits formed over a lifetime. These are not always negative—indeed, conditioning is essential for survival—but some patterns become maladaptive. Phobias, negative self-talk, prejudice, and self-limiting beliefs are examples of ‘overcooked’ responses that may no longer serve us.

Modern research in neuroscience has shown that the brain has the ability to form and reorganise synaptic connections, called neuroplasticity, in response to learning or experience. Therapy modalities such as cognitive-behavioural therapy (CBT), mindfulness, and even psychedelic-assisted sessions can make individuals ‘rewire’ their responses to past events and unlearn maladaptive patterns. The Internet is full of stories of people who have overcome addiction, healed from trauma, and abandoned deeply held prejudices. The evidence is clear: mental ‘unboiling’ is not only possible, but happening all around us.

I have yet to see anyone who has changed personally. Actually, I don’t believe in this idea of ‘change’. In fact, my doubt is more fundamental. What does it mean to be a ‘Better Person’? Isn’t becoming better inherently subjective, shaped by culture, context, and personal values? For some, it means cultivating compassion and empathy; for others, it might mean gaining confidence, shedding destructive habits, or finding peace with oneself. Regardless of the specifics, self-improvement implies movement away from past limitations and toward a higher ideal.

Change is seldom straightforward. The inertia of habit, fear of failure, and the comfort of the familiar can all conspire against us. Shame and guilt may keep us rooted in old patterns, and sceptics—both internal and external—may insist that ‘people never really change’. I prefer terms like ‘awareness of our inner world’ that keep radiating outwards, as in the behaviours and words we speak, our voice, tone, speed, and fluency, or the hindrances.

Why give a common-sense assessment of one’s strengths and weaknesses, and then attach a high-sounding name to it? Dialogue with trusted friends has always helped people. Community, mentorship, and professional guidance are invaluable. Who can deny that small, consistent efforts lay the groundwork for lasting improvement? The root problem of our times is isolation. Mistakes are inevitable; learning from them is key. You need good people around you to help you correct your mistakes, not your nemesis.

While the metaphor of ‘unboiling the egg’ suggests radical reversal, true personal growth often involves integration rather than erasure. We cannot unlive our childhoods or forget our traumas, but we can reinterpret, reframe, and rise above them. Like the egg’s proteins, our minds may always bear traces of their former shapes, but that need not define us.

There is no denial of the fact that the story of unboiling the egg is now a symbol of possibility. Scientific progress mirrors personal growth: what was once thought unchangeable can, through persistence and the right tools, be transformed. Though we cannot return to some untouched, original state, we are not prisoners of our past. Mental conditioning can be examined, challenged, and, to some extent, undone.

Becoming a better person is not only possible—it is our birthright as adaptable, learning beings. The process may not be easy or complete, but each step toward greater self-awareness, compassion, and freedom from harmful conditioning is an unboiling of sorts: a reclamation of potential, a renewal of hope, and a testament to the endless capacity for change within us all.