The Underlying Mechanism
While synergies are often described at a macro level, using Safavynia et al.’s (2011) definition of motor synergies, we employ the framework of synergy at a micro level in which each “task-specific motor synergy” (TSMS) corresponds to the smallest ensemble of muscles co-activated to produce a unidirectional movement (e.g., finger flexion, extension, abduction, adduction, wrist flexion, wrist extension, wrist radial deviation, wrist ulnar deviation, forearm pronation, forearm supination) at an individual digit or body part. Concretely, rather than treating every single muscle as an entirely independent module, we group all prime movers (intrinsic and/or extrinsic) that jointly create the movement force in that one direction, along with their corresponding alpha motor neurons in the spinal cord and the relevant cortical E/I circuits in the task-specific subregion of M1. Any proximal stabilizers or muscles whose activity merely modulates finger posture indirectly are excluded, leaving only those muscles directly responsible for executing the specific unidirectional motion. In this sense, each synergy can involve multiple muscles (e.g., intrinsic hand muscles plus certain extrinsic forearm muscles) if they routinely co-activate to produce a single direction of movement in that digit. Crucially, a muscle can also belong to more than one synergy if it contributes to multiple directions. By focusing on this tightly defined “unidirectional synergy,” we capture the local population of excitatory and inhibitory neurons that practice together as a functional sub-network for that particular movement. We propose that FTSD can arise in any one of these unidirectional TSMS microcircuits if repeated overreaching selectively strengthens excitatory drive while the corresponding inhibition fails to keep pace.
Moreover, a crucial boundary condition is set by cortical interneuron identity. Across the neocortex, including M1, three non-overlapping molecular families account for virtually all GABAergic cells: parvalbumin-positive (PV), somatostatin-positive (SST), and the ionotropic serotonin receptor 5HT3a (5HT3aR) interneurons (Rudy et al., 2011). Framing FTSD in this canonical tripartite scheme immediately narrows the mechanistic search: any inhibitory deficit in a TSMS must therefore map onto one, or some combination, of these three classes.
Under normal conditions, we propose that a TSMS—encoding a learned unidirectional movement—is represented in the M1 by an ensemble of excitatory (pyramidal) neurons that co-fire to produce the intended motor output. These excitatory neurons rely on local inhibitory interneurons, particularly PV fast-spiking cells, which provide short-latency GABAA-mediated inhibition to keep excitatory drive in check. Whenever pyramidal neurons ramp up their firing, the corresponding PV cells receive strong excitatory input and deliver a timely burst of inhibition, preventing runaway activity (a similar mechanism as the pyramidal-interneuron gamma PING described by Keeley et al., 2017). As skill acquisition proceeds through repeated practice, excitatory and inhibitory synapses within the synergy co-strengthen in parallel via Hebbian-like mechanisms: excitatory-excitatory (E-E) connections among frequently co-activated pyramidal cells become more robust, while excitatory-inhibitory (E-I) connections onto PV interneurons also scale up, ensuring balanced inhibitory feedback. The result under healthy circumstances is a balanced microcircuit, reflected experimentally in normal short-latency intracortical inhibition (SICI) and moderate intracortical facilitation (ICF) when measured by TMS.
In FTSD, we propose that this balance is disrupted by an imbalance of synaptic strengths between pyramidal neurons and local PV interneurons within the TSMS of the affected digit or individual body part in M1. Specifically, the pyramidal cells outpace the inhibitory drive furnished by PV interneurons—the fast-spiking subset of GABAA-mediated cells (Tian & Izumi, 2022) that predominantly govern SICI (Di Lazzaro et al., 2006). In a healthy TSMS, balanced E-I synapses (both E→I and I→E) ensure that pyramidal neurons fire with appropriate spatiotemporal specificity. However, in FTSD, the PV interneuron synapses (E→I and/or I→E) become under-strengthened and disproportionately weak compared to E-E synapses. Regardless of which of those two is more compromised, the net effect is insufficient GABAA current to hyperpolarize or shunt excitatory cells. This weakened short-latency inhibition directly manifests as reduced SICI in TMS studies (Di Lazzaro et al., 2006). Although each TSMS can also contain the two other principal cortical inhibitory interneuron populations (SST and 5HT3aR), across the FTSDs (writer’s cramp, musician’s dystonia, etc.) a substantial body of TMS studies report markedly reduced SICI (e.g., Furuya et al., 2018; Huang et al., 2010; McDonnell et al., 2007; Ridding et al., 1995; Siebner et al., 1999; Stinear & Byblow, 2004). By contrast, results for long-interval intracortical inhibition (LICI) are heterogeneous—normal in some cohorts (Furuya et al., 2018; Meunier et al., 2012), reduced in others (Chen et al., 1997; Espay et al., 2006), occasionally even increased (Caux-Dedeystère et al., 2021). We contend that by itself, the inconsistency of LICI does not imply methodological noise alone; rather, it offers a clue pointing to the specific interneuron subclass that constitutes the principal locus of dysfunction within the TSMS. Compelling support for this inference comes from a direct demonstration of how slow, metabotropic inhibition gates late polysynaptic activity in a study by Shao and Burkhalter (1999). In their study, layer-2/3 stimulation (rat V1) evokes an early glutamatergic EPSP, followed later by a slow GABAB-IPSP that peaks at ~146 ± 13 ms. Bath application of the GABAB antagonist 2-OH-saclofen or CGP 55845 abolishes this IPSP and immediately unveils a large, long-lasting train of reverberant EPSPs, likely suggesting that dendrite-targeting SST neurons normally veto late recurrent excitation. In addition, the underlying circuit—L2/3 pyramids recruiting Martinotti (SST) cells that project to distal dendrites in L1—is highly conserved across the neocortex, including M1 (Jiang et al., 2015). Thus, if one performs the following thought experiment—subtracting SST-mediated GABAB currents while leaving PV-driven GABAA inhibition intact in the context of performing a motor task—the predicted motor phenotype diverges sharply from FTSD. Loss of dendrite-targeting SST cells abolishes the ∼100-200 ms gain-down window that normally vetoes late polysynaptic reverberation. A brief cortical command should then in theory fragment into a series of low-frequency echo-like bursts of polysynaptic activity, causing a cascade of discrete, clonic after-contractions or phasic tremor-like jerks. FTSD, by contrast, is observed clinically to be a sustained, posture-like involuntary contraction that initiates once the task-specific speed or force threshold is crossed and then plateaus for the duration of the action (Sakai, 2006; Yoshie et al., 2015). The absence of involuntary phasic bursting movements in nearly every well-documented case of FTSD therefore argues that dendritic SST gating cannot constitute the primary locus of dysfunction. This empirical result therefore strengthens the inference that PV hypofunction—not SST loss—is the critical failure mode in FTSD.
Repeating the same thought experiment with the variables reversed—weakening PV synapses while sparing SST circuits—recapitulates the clinical picture far more faithfully. As PV basket and chandelier cells clamp the perisomatic membrane within 1-5 ms of each pyramidal spike, their under-strengthening removes the instantaneous brake that normally limits population firing probability. Initial pyramidal discharge therefore rises steeply and, in the face of still-functional SST gain control, settles onto a new, elevated plateau: a hyperexcitable yet largely continuous output drive. Behaviorally, the motor system expresses the excess as a tonic, task-bound spasm, matching the phenomenology of FTSD. That outcome requires no additional failure of SST-mediated inhibition, merely a quantitative mismatch in the E/I ratio at PV synapses. The same deductive framework further argues against a primary role for 5HT3aR interneurons, a significant amount of which express vasoactive-intestinal-peptide (VIP) and serve chiefly to disinhibit SST cells. In healthy cortex, VIP neurons fire in response to cholinergic or serotonergic drive, transiently silencing SST dendrite-targeting interneurons and thereby permitting a momentary increase in pyramidal dendritic excitability. If FTSD were rooted in a loss of VIP/5HT3aR output, SST cells would be chronically over-effective, not under-active; GABAB gain control would strengthen, late polysynaptic reverberation would be further suppressed, and corticospinal output would likely tilt toward bradykinetic or hypometric movements—exactly the opposite of the hyperkinetic, threshold-locked phenotype observed. Conversely, if VIP neurons were pathologically hyper-active, they would disinhibit SST targets so that the functional effect would approximate a direct SST knock-out, again predicting phasic echo bursts rather than the sustained co-contractions that define FTSD. These converging considerations motivate a working hypothesis in which PV hypofunction is necessary—and, at the level of core motor phenomenology, sufficient—for FTSD. Whether SST and/or VIP pathways are spared or impaired remains an open and empirically testable question; current evidence suggests they are not required to be abnormal and their involvement is variable and smaller in magnitude than the PV synaptic strength deficit.
Moreover, when an individual attempts a high-demand or precise motor act—such as writing or playing an instrument—insufficient inhibitory “clamping” of pyramidal populations causes them to fire excessively, leading to the characteristic repetitive involuntary movements of FTSD (Furuya et al., 2018; Ridding et al., 1995). Notably, PV interneuron synapses do still function to some degree; there is not an absolute loss of inhibition. Nonetheless, we propose that their quantitative and qualitative insufficiency adequately explains the loss of surround inhibition that has been repeatedly documented in FTSD (e.g., Beck & Hallett, 2011; Beck et al. 2009; Sohn & Hallett, 2004). Because surround inhibition largely relies on PV interneurons to selectively inhibit neighboring excitatory outputs (Kujirai et al., 1993), weakening these synapses compromises the inhibitory “gating,” resulting in spillover or overflow of excitatory drive into adjacent cortical representations.
Additionally, both the excitatory inputs onto PV interneurons (E→I) and the inhibitory outputs from PV cells to pyramidal neurons (I→E) could be weakened in FTSD. The reduction of SICI in FTSD (e.g., Furuya et al., 2018; Huang et al., 2010; McDonnell et al., 2007; Ridding et al., 1995; Siebner et al., 1999; Stinear & Byblow, 2004) directly reflects a weakened GABAA effect on pyramidal neurons, whether from PV interneurons firing less or having less effective synapses onto excitatory cells. Experimentally, blocking the postsynaptic effect of PV-mediated inhibition in M1 is sufficient to induce dystonic features: in monkey experiments, the focal application of a GABAA antagonist (bicuculline) to motor cortex caused excessive excitatory drive and abnormal co-contraction of agonist/antagonist muscles, thus mimicking dystonic movements (Matsumura et al., 1991). This demonstrates how loss of I→E inhibition alone can critically degrade motor control specificity. In a parallel finding, a peripheral afferent stimulus that normally elicit cortical inhibition instead produced excitation in FTSD patients, a phenomenon attributable to underactive inhibitory interneuron output (Abbruzzese et al., 2001). Collectively, such data strongly implicate deficient I→E synaptic transmission (PV → pyramidal) as a key factor in FTSD pathology. Furthermore, in the healthy motor cortex, a sub-threshold conditioning pulse suppresses late I3-waves but spares the early I1-wave, confirming that I3 activity is gated by intracortical GABA-ergic (likely PV-cell) inhibition (Hanajima et al., 1998). Current-direction studies add a second, complementary probe. Posterior-anterior (PA) stimulation reliably recruits an I1 volley at threshold, with I2/I3 waves emerging only at higher intensities, whereas anterior-posterior (AP) stimulation can, in some individuals, elicit an I3 volley first; in others the initial volley remains I1- or even D-like (Di Lazzaro et al., 2001). Thus, PA currents predominantly interrogate early-wave circuitry, whereas AP currents provide at least partial access to circuits capable of generating later, PV-gated I-waves. This orientation-based “double probe” reveals a distinctive pattern in FTSD. When SICI is tested with PA currents it is markedly reduced, yet the same paradigm with AP currents yields normal inhibition (Hanajima et al., 2008). Because the PA configuration samples early-wave-dominated output, while the AP configuration can still engage late-wave pathways, the selective loss of PA-SICI implies that everyday motor output in FTSD relies disproportionately on the fast, direct I1 route and fails to recruit the PV-interneuron circuitry that shapes later I-waves. Consistently, Stinear and Byblow (2004) showed that higher conditioning intensities are required to elicit SICI in FTSD, indicating that PV interneurons are present but less excitable. Together, these findings support the notion that weakened pyramidal-to-PV synaptic drive leaves the inhibitory network under-recruited.
In summary, we propose that the core mechanism in FTSD is a PV-centered synaptic-strength imbalance within a TSMS, in which PV-mediated inhibitory circuits are insufficiently potentiated relative to excitatory circuits, shifting the synergy into a hyperexcitable regime. The hallmark features—repetitive involuntary movements and a loss of surround inhibition—result directly from reduced inhibitory gating (SICI deficiency) and surplus excitatory drive, ultimately ‘locking’ the cortex into maladaptive activity patterns whenever the learned task is initiated.
The Developmental Cause
We propose that when you switch techniques in a motor skill or at the piano, certain components of your old finger posture or movement pattern overlap with what the new technique needs. Essentially, “overlap” between the old and new techniques arises because certain subpopulations of pyramidal neurons (and their corresponding local inhibitory interneurons acting as modulators) in M1 encode movement features—finger trajectories, velocity profiles, or force levels—that are partly common to both the old and new patterns of piano playing. Even when your new technique changes aspects of hand posture or finger movement, it still relies on muscle activations and joint configurations that substantially resemble fragments of the old pattern—such as maintaining flexion in a particular finger joint, or generating similar wrist alignment. At the level of individual neurons and synapses, this is manifested through a distribution (rather than a one-to-one mapping) of excitatory synapses in M1 that each contribute to subcomponents of the overall movement.
Inside M1, populations of pyramidal cells are organized into partially overlapping ensembles, each broadly tuned to specific movement directions, muscle synergies, or force-speed parameters (Economo et al., 2024 and references therein; Shinotsuka et al., 2023). This organization is not strictly topographic (i.e., not “one neuron, one finger”), but rather a population code: each neuron’s firing reflects a preferred contribution to certain aspects of movement—whether that be flexion of the distal phalanx, extension of the wrist, or stabilizing the thumb. When you adopt a “new technique,” many motor elements do change—different finger angles, distinct wrist orientation, altered timing—but there remains a core set of smaller-scale motion primitives (e.g., the same DIP joint flexion in the index finger) that the new technique still demands.
At a synaptic scale, each pyramidal neuron has thousands of (E-E) connections and receives short-latency inhibitory inputs from local interneurons, especially fast-spiking PV cells. Whenever you execute a particular finger transition—say, depressing a piano key with the index finger while stabilizing adjacent fingers—some subset of pyramidal neurons that formerly participated in the old technique for that same or very similar muscular action will again receive correlated pre- and postsynaptic activity. This is because these neurons were already wired (through prior Hebbian strengthening during your original technique training) to generate precisely that mechanical output. If the new technique retains enough of the old technique’s biomechanical or kinematic subroutines (like a specific angle or force component for pressing a key), those same neurons get reactivated.
Additionally, the local inhibitory circuits recruited alongside these pyramidal neurons reflect the same partial overlap. The PV interneurons that were tuned to provide well-timed inhibitory bursts for controlling the speed or force of that same finger trajectory will still be co-activated. At the synaptic level, this overlapping microcircuit (pyramidal-interneuron-pyramidal loops) is effectively “shared” between the old synergy and the new synergy because it encodes that particular fragment of movement output that both techniques happen to employ.
Thus, the reason certain subcircuits get reused is that the cortical architecture for motor outputs is built around semi-redundant, multifunctional neuronal populations—rather than strictly dedicated “old-technique” vs. “new-technique” neurons. The new technique re-elicits patterns of spiking in those neurons whose preferred movement features match the partial motion components or forces used in both old and new posture. Essentially, any connections that are “useful” for the new synergy still experience synchronous presynaptic and postsynaptic spiking, which is the Hebbian trigger for maintaining (or further potentiating) these synapses.
Meanwhile, the subset of neurons and synapses from the old technique that code for truly unique angles or muscle synergies of the old technique are not recruited by the new technique and are not reliably activated. Crucially, synaptic plasticity in the cortex is governed by spike timing-dependent plasticity (STDP) rules: if a given presynaptic terminal no longer fires in precise synchrony with its target postsynaptic neuron, the relevant connection undergoes long-term depression (LTD) or fails to be reconsolidated during offline phases of protein synthesis. Several mechanisms ensure that unreinforced synapses “fade” over time. These include (1) synaptic tag-and-capture processes, wherein newly reactivated synapses tag themselves for further stabilization proteins, whereas inactive synapses do not (Bin Ibrahim et al., 2024; Frey & Morris, 1997; Redondo & Morris, 2011); (2) competition for plasticity-related proteins (PRPs), meaning that actively firing synapses can “capture” the molecular resources needed to retain high synaptic strength, leaving inactive synapses starved (Govindarajan et al., 2011; Sajikumar et al., 2014); (3) homeostatic mechanisms that prevent indefinite global potentiation by favoring a downregulation of inputs that are not used for the current motor program (Turrigiano et al., 1998; Turrigiano, 2008); and most importantly (4) the principle of occlusion and retrograde interference, wherein a local circuit that has undergone significant long-term potentiation (LTP) from the new technique has diminished capacity for further potentiation, effectively overshadowing or destabilizing old, unreinforced connections (Cantarero et al., 2013). Once the newly formed synergy “dominates,” unique components of the old technique that remain unused are especially prone to LTD or outright pruning through lack of reactivation.
This division of your old technique’s synapses—into those that remain active under the new movement pattern vs. those that do not—creates what we observe behaviorally and propose as a “partial baseline shift”: you retain only that fraction of synaptic strength that the new technique actually calls upon and keeps reactivating. In other words, the new technique’s earliest practice sessions re-potentiate (or at least prevent from decaying and getting downregulated) those old synapses it still needs, while simultaneously allowing the old-technique-unique synapses to undergo LTD. The overlap portion of the old synergy (excitatory neurons plus their matched inhibitory interneurons) is “rescued” and preserved each time you execute the new technique, whereas the segments of the old synergy that are no longer relevant do not receive correlated firing and thus do not keep their former high-potentiation state. We hypothesize that this selective retention is precisely why an individual can notice a performance setback after every technique change: you no longer have 100% of the old synergy’s synaptic capacity but only the part that the new technique still re-activates.
Moreover, a rigorous way to define “intensity” (whether speed, force, volume, etc.) in the nervous system begins by recognizing that the motor output—how fast or forcefully you strike a piano key—arises from the net excitatory minus inhibitory drive to the motor pathway. In piano performance, these motor neurons reside predominantly in layer 5 of M1 for the upper motor component, and in the ventral horn of the spinal cord for the lower motor component. The degree of “intensity” depends on two inter-related mechanisms: (i) recruitment of a larger population of corticospinal neurons and spinal motoneurons, and (ii) rate coding—higher discharge frequencies within those units. Greater recruitment and faster firing raise the descending drive onto spinal interneurons and motoneuron pools; the motoneurons then enlist more motor units and/or elevate their firing rates in the hand muscles, producing quicker and more forceful keystrokes. Thus, in purely neural terms, we define intensity not as a single variable but as an emergent property of how many neurons are active, how extensively they recruit spinal motor circuits, how fast they spike, and—during brief transients—how synchronously they discharge
When you produce a “higher-intensity” keystroke—pressing a key at greater speed or with greater force—the underlying mechanism is that more excitatory synapses onto pyramidal neurons (and onto the downstream spinal circuitry) shift their membrane potentials closer to or beyond threshold in a coherent, time-locked way. Each spike in these upper motor neurons generates descending action potentials along the corticospinal tract. Within the spinal cord, the summation of presynaptic drive onto alpha motor neurons determines how many of those motor neurons discharge, and with what frequency. If you need a lower velocity or gentler force, fewer pyramidal neurons fire, or they do so at lower frequencies, recruiting smaller motor units or firing them sparsely.
To call it “intensity” underscores that the nervous system flexibly scales the net excitatory output in each TSMS. Within M1, a digit-specific TSMS is encoded by ensembles of pyramidal neurons whose firing patterns direct the muscle activity needed to press a piano key with that particular finger. Crucially, the magnitude of pyramidal firing—and the resulting degree of spinal motor neuron recruitment—determines how vigorously the synergy manifests. In other words, the same digit-level TSMS can yield a soft, slow keystroke or a hard, fast keystroke simply by modulating the net excitatory outflow: the same group of prime-mover muscles is activated, but at different intensities of neuronal discharge.
“Attempted intensity” refers to the top-down command specifying how forcefully or how rapidly one intends to move that finger. At a cellular level, premotor and supplementary motor areas, together with M1, generate pre-movement activity reflecting an internal plan for the upcoming velocity or force of the finger TSMS. This plan modifies synaptic input to the relevant pyramidal ensembles, effectively setting a “target excitatory drive.” If you choose to strike a key loudly with, say, your index finger, the cortex mobilizes a stronger excitatory barrage onto the ensemble controlling the finger flexors, while dynamically adjusting local inhibitory interneuron firing to preserve spatiotemporal precision. Once you initiate the movement, spinal and sensory feedback loops refine the ongoing force, but the core mechanism is that the corticospinal command—shaped by basal ganglia gating, cerebellar error correction, and other influences—either ramps up or tapers off the population spike rate of the finger TSMS’s motor neurons to match your “attempted intensity.”
Thus, in the most literal sense, “attempted intensity (e.g., speed, force, volume)” is the set of descending E/I patterns that the cortex generates in anticipation of the required movement amplitude and velocity. It is a forward projection of neural firing rates, shaped by prior learning, that aims to recruit a defined number of spinal motor units at a certain frequency. In this way, “intensity” can be biologically viewed as the net excitatory load placed on the TSMS, and “attempted intensity” is your brain’s command to load the TSMS to a particular level of activity.
Additionally, synaptic strengths in a given TSMS directly shape how much net drive the involved neurons can generate or suppress, because the amount of potentiation or depression at each relevant synapse dictates the amplitude of excitatory or inhibitory postsynaptic potentials (EPSPs or IPSPs), which in turn translates into the population-level firing rates for that TSMS. In the excitatory circuit, synaptic strength governs the amplitude of each EPSP. At every excitatory synapse, the density or conductance of AMPA receptors and the presynaptic release probability determine how much depolarization the postsynaptic neuron receives upon a presynaptic spike. When synapses are strongly potentiated, each incoming spike volley yields a larger total excitatory current, driving the postsynaptic neuron to fire more frequently or recruit additional neurons. Consequently, the population’s overall firing rate in pyramidal cells of the motor cortex can escalate, thereby increasing the descending command that ultimately activates spinal alpha motor neurons. Higher cortical firing rates mean more motor neurons discharge with greater frequency, producing higher muscle force and faster movement of the digit. In this way, robust synaptic strengths in the excitatory circuit allow the TSMS to reach a greater maximum intensity when an individual attempts a high-velocity or high-force action. Conversely, if these synapses are weak, even a strong top-down command fails to generate sufficient postsynaptic spiking, capping the TSMS at a lower maximum speed or force.
Meanwhile, in the inhibitory circuit, synaptic strengths control how effectively interneurons can clamp or limit the TSMS’s excitatory outflow. PV interneurons, among others, receive excitatory inputs (E→I) from pyramidal cells, and the strength of these inputs determines how vigorously those interneurons fire in response to a given excitatory drive. At the same time, the output of these interneurons (I→E) projects back onto the perisomatic region of pyramidal neurons through GABAA-mediated synapses, whose strength dictates how much inhibitory hyperpolarization or shunting each interneuron spike confers on the excitatory cells. If these E→I and I→E connections are robust, a rising excitatory barrage from the pyramidal population will trigger a corresponding burst of interneuron firing, promptly delivering large IPSCs that damp or sculpt the excitatory neurons’ discharge. This mechanism ensures short-latency feedback inhibition, preventing runaway firing and controlling whether only a subset of neurons is active. Alternatively, if inhibitory synapses remain under-strengthened, the TSMS struggles to curb excessive pyramidal activity, risking unregulated hyperexcitability or overshoot behaviors reminiscent of FTSD.
Hence, the amount of excitatory drive that the TSMS can generate at any moment is set by the balance between strong excitatory synapses, which boost EPSPs toward threshold, and sufficiently strong inhibitory synapses, which govern the restraint or timing of that drive. Excitatory strengths fix how large the TSMS’s overall firing can become, thereby defining the upper limit of speed or force. Inhibitory strengths determine how effectively the TSMS can gate or refine that excitatory surge, maintaining precision and mitigating unwanted spillover. When these circuits are well-matched, an individual can translate a chosen “attempted intensity” into real-world movement up to the TSMS’s maximal capacity. If the excitatory side is too weak, no amount of attempted drive will achieve high force or velocity; if the inhibitory side is too weak, the TSMS can overshoot and cause unintended movements.
Furthermore, we propose that the true weakness prominently reported by the patient arises when the excitatory drive required for a given movement exceeds the capacity (synaptic strength) of the TSMS’s excitatory circuit to depolarize and recruit downstream motor neurons. Each synapse in the TSMS’s excitatory pathway (e.g., layer 5 pyramidal cells projecting to spinal motor pools) has a certain degree of potentiation—reflected in features like AMPA receptor density, presynaptic release probability, and dendritic spine morphology—that sets how large an EPSP can become with each incoming spike. When these synaptic strengths are suboptimal or partially depressed, the postsynaptic neurons in the TSMS cannot reach the firing rate or recruitment threshold necessary for generating high levels of force or speed. In other words, the local excitatory circuit is incapable of converting a top-down “attempted intensity” into the corresponding spike output.
At the most immediate scale, true weakness is visible when a strong cortical command fails to produce sufficient spiking in the relevant pyramidal neurons. If synapses have lost potency—through LTD—they simply do not inject enough depolarizing current into the cell bodies and proximal dendrites of the pyramidal neurons. As a result, the neurons saturate at a lower firing frequency and fail to recruit the full range of alpha motor neurons in the spinal cord. The spinal motor neuron pool is responsive to the summation of EPSPs arriving from descending cortical and subcortical pathways; inadequate excitatory amplitude means fewer motor units are activated, and those that are active may not fire at high enough rates to achieve the intended force or velocity. The performer then experiences a pronounced difficulty in generating the expected strength or speed, which feels subjectively like true weakness.
Thus, true weakness arises because the TSMS’s excitatory circuit is below the threshold of synaptic potentiation required to drive the descending corticospinal system at the level mandated by a high-intensity motor command. The result is a clear gap between the intended movement (the performer’s internal sense of how forcefully they want to press) and the TSMS’s actual motor output (the diminished, sluggish or feeble press), precisely because excitatory circuits cannot muster the rapid, high-amplitude depolarizations needed to push the muscle fibers to the desired level of contraction.
When you “overreach” by attempting finger speeds or forces (intensity) beyond your current E/I capacity (synaptic strengths), the cortical and spinal motor networks must still generate repeated motor commands—albeit insufficient ones—to move the fingers at least partially. These repeated presynaptic spikes, even if they fail to match the intended force, reinforce a subset of excitatory synapses that happen to be active during the partial or fragmented movement. We propose that on a population scale, this subset can drift away from the original balanced synergy and form what we call a dystonic synergy/TSMS, specifically above the speed threshold you are trying to surpass. Because the new overreached commands repeatedly push excitatory neurons in the synergy toward a firing pattern aimed at higher intensity—even if the movement is incomplete or weak—the excitatory pyramidal neurons nevertheless still produce some bursts of activity—enough to push their own E-E synapses gradually toward LTP—yet those partial bursts typically lack the amplitude, timing consistency, and synchrony needed to robustly engage the interneurons. For PV interneurons (and other local inhibitory cells) to undergo parallel LTP, they must receive well-timed, sufficiently large excitatory inputs and be able to fire action potentials that coincide with the postsynaptic activity of the pyramidal neurons they are inhibiting. Below are the mechanistic reasons we propose as to why that often fails to happen during overreaching: First, pyramidal-to-inhibitory (E→I) synapses may have higher or more phasic thresholds for effective plasticity, meaning they need a strong, synchronous volley of spikes to trigger the specific intracellular cascades (e.g., adequate calcium influx or NMDA receptor activation) that lead to potentiation. During overreaching, the pyramidal neurons do fire, but not at the robust rates or aligned bursts they would produce if they truly met (or slightly surpassed) their excitatory threshold. The result is bursts that are too sporadic or too brief to reliably boost interneuron spiking to the point of reinforcing E→I synapses. In other words, the partial, “struggling” pyramidal output might be enough to bump the E-E synapses upward (since those synapses can sometimes be potentiated even by submaximal but repeated inputs), but it does not achieve the amplitude or temporal pattern crucial for flipping interneuron synapses into an LTP-supporting mode.
Second, interneurons themselves often have distinctive electrophysiological properties—like fast spiking patterns characterized by short membrane time constants and strong after-hyperpolarizations (typical of hyperpolarization activated currents, .e.g., Ih)—that require a certain threshold of coincident presynaptic drive to stay firing in a synchronized manner. If the incoming excitatory signals arrive in small, uncoordinated “packets” (as happens when you cannot fully achieve the desired speed/force), the interneurons fire a few scattered spikes rather than the coherent, higher-frequency trains that robust inhibitory LTP typically demands. Critically, plasticity in E→I synapses is spike timing-dependent: you need presynaptic pyramidal spikes firing before (after) interneuron spikes for strengthening (weakening). When the excitatory bursts are fragmented and never quite push the interneurons into robust discharges, the spike timing windows for plasticity close, without a stable E→I memory trace forming.
Third, the I→E connections back onto pyramidal cells also require synchronous interneuron firing plus a depolarized postsynaptic target to strengthen. If interneurons only spike fleetingly and the pyramidal cells themselves are not in a well-timed depolarized window, there is no matched pre- and postsynaptic depolarization to anchor LTP. PV interneurons specialize in high-frequency, short-latency bursts that clamp excitatory neurons, but that effect becomes meaningful only if the interneurons are driven strongly enough to run these rapid-fire bursts. During overreaching, the synergy’s excitatory signals remain in a borderline zone, insufficient to coordinate both sides of the circuit at once, and the synergy never “locks in” those reciprocal inhibitory synapses with the proper Hebbian signatures.
Finally, on the molecular side, repeated submaximal firing can still tag and capture plasticity-related proteins (PRPs) for the E-E connections (because at least some portion of the pyramidal ensemble fires consistently), whereas the interneurons—firing too erratically—fail to capture the needed PRPs. In short, the partial bursts feed just enough repeated stimulation to the E-E synapses to accumulate LTP, but not enough to orchestrate the robust co-activation pattern needed for the inhibitory side. Over time, that differential consolidation mechanism explains how the dystonic synergy’s excitatory circuit creeps upward while the inhibitory circuit stalls, never receiving the full co-activation “recipe” required to strengthen in lockstep.
In summary, we propose that a separate dystonic synergy forms under overreaching conditions because the repeated, subthreshold excitatory bursts effectively “peel off” or consolidate a new set of excitatory synapses above the functional synergy’s existing capacity, while simultaneously failing to co-develop the matching inhibitory circuitry. Meanwhile, the original functional synergy/TSMS—the balanced one that could operate comfortably at lower speeds or forces—no longer receives the specific coincident firing needed to maintain or further increase its excitatory and inhibitory synaptic strengths. As a result, those older synapses stall in development while the newly emerging (though imbalanced) dystonic synergy entrenches itself.
Moreover, when the performer consistently tries to move at a speed or force level beyond what the current functional synergy can deliver, the cortical command still generates repeated presynaptic spikes in some pyramidal neurons. Although these bursts are not coherent or fully synchronized enough to reinforce the old synergy’s E/I loops, they do repeatedly tag a new sub-population of E-E synapses. This “tagging” indicates that these partially active synapses are relevant, and they capture plasticity-related proteins (PRPs) such as CaMKII, PKMζ, or BDNF, allowing them to undergo incremental LTP. Over time, this repeated partial activation converges into a subcircuit that resides above the original synergy’s upper threshold—because it is precisely the subcircuit engaged whenever the performer pushes for that higher intensity.
Simultaneously, the older synergy’s excitatory and inhibitory connections cease to experience the correlated presynaptic-postsynaptic activity they need for LTP or even stable reconsolidation. Each time the performer “overreaches,” the descending pattern is specifically geared to exceed the old synergy’s comfortable zone. That means the old synergy’s synapses do not get the consistent spiking patterns that once maintained or increased their strengths. In addition, local plasticity resources (e.g., those PRPs) become partially exhausted or reallocated to the nascent subcircuit, leaving fewer available for the original synergy’s E/I pairing. Without renewed Hebbian co-activation or ample PRPs, the old synergy’s synaptic strengths stagnate.
Essentially, the reason this new subcircuit forms a “dystonic” synergy (i.e., with imbalanced E/I development) is that the partial bursts never robustly recruit the associated inhibitory interneurons. PV-positive interneurons, for instance, require well-synchronized, high-intensity inputs to potentiate their E→I or I→E synapses. Because overreaching yields disjointed, below-threshold excitatory firing, the interneurons never get the consistent, high-amplitude drive crucial for parallel LTP. Hence, these inhibitory synapses stay under-strengthened. The repeated bursts still suffice to incrementally reinforce the excitatory side, but do not align frequently or powerfully enough to entrain the local inhibitory microcircuits. Over time, the subcircuit coalesces into a distinct excitatory-dominant synergy that sits “above” the old functional synergy’s capacity, becoming hyperexcitatory due to the mismatch with its relatively weak or stagnated inhibitory counterpart.
Thus, the older synergy’s E/I network halts in development because it is no longer the primary circuit engaged at these higher intensities, while the emerging circuit gets just enough partial engagement (plus local plasticity resources) to lock in progressively stronger excitatory connections without matching inhibitory gains. This forms a new dystonic synergy that dominates whenever the performer attempts speeds or forces above the old threshold—ultimately manifesting as FTSD at that higher range.
Importantly, when FTSD first develops, its emergent “dystonic synergy” relies partly on the same pyramidal neurons and local circuits that the functional synergy originally employed, especially in the synaptic range below the threshold for symptomatic high-force or high-speed movements. During repeated overreaching above the old synergy’s capacity, excitatory synapses in the new dystonic subcircuit gain incremental LTP, while the matching inhibitory synapses fail to track that potentiation. Initially, this new subcircuit draws on many of the same neuronal pools as the functional synergy at lower intensities, simply adding a further excitatory “extension” above the threshold. Because it is still forming, it partially overlaps with the older synergy’s resources—both excitatory and inhibitory—below that threshold.
However, we hypothesize and propose that metaplastic processes and continued “use” at higher intensities enable the dystonic synergy’s excitatory side to reorganize and add new or re-labeled synapses, effectively building a parallel resource base that was once entirely shared with the functional synergy. Through the tagging and capture of plasticity-related proteins (PRPs) and the recruitment of additional dendritic spines, the dystonic synergy becomes more autonomous. As repeated high-demand episodes reinforce these excitatory connections above the threshold, the subcircuit does not merely borrow old synergy synapses; it stabilizes its own set of strongly potentiated E-E links. At the same time, once again, the old synergy’s E/I loops in the lower domain receive fewer co-activations and fewer PRPs, leading them to stagnate.
Once the dystonic synergy consolidates in this branched-off manner, it no longer relies on the original functional synergy’s “below-symptom threshold” resources. Consequently, when you introduce new technique changes in the lower or moderate intensity range, retrograde interference degrades the old/functional synergy’s unique synapses—because those are the synapses still being partially engaged in normal or subthreshold playing. The dystonic synergy, however, resides at higher intensities (above its threshold) and has already completed its own consolidation. If you are not consistently reactivating that exact high-intensity subcircuit during technique changes—and indeed, you might be deliberately avoiding those speeds to avoid triggering dystonia—its E/I network is not disturbed by the new practice patterns. Moreover, the principle of occlusion indicates that once the dystonic synergy’s excitatory subcircuit saturates, it does not keep accruing more LTP.
Meanwhile, the functional synergy below the symptom threshold remains vulnerable: any time you adopt another new technique, only a fraction of old synergy synapses overlaps, and the unused portion succumbs to downregulation. Because the dystonic synergy no longer meaningfully shares that pool (having “branched off” via metaplastic growth), it is immune to these interference effects, preserving its severity and threshold unaltered. The net result is a three-state scenario: (1) a below-threshold zone of relatively unproblematic movement, albeit weakened; (2) a mid-range zone that prompts true weakness when attempted intensities exceed the functional synergy’s decayed capacity; and (3) a higher zone that triggers the fully formed dystonic synergy, whose imbalance is locked in and unaffected by subsequent changes in the older synergy’s domain. To the best of our knowledge, this accurately reflects the patient’s described circumstance of a developed three-state scenario after repeatedly changing technique without practicing enough using the new technique after the change.
That said, if an individual already with a fully developed dystonic synergy repeatedly adopts new piano techniques without consolidating each one through repetitive practice, the functional synergy’s excitatory and inhibitory synapses progressively degrade due to partial baseline shifts and retrograde interference of the previous technique. This process makes the individual be in a three-state scenario like the example above. This process establishes a true weakness zone, where attempted speeds or forces exceed the newly reduced synaptic capacity but still remain below an established dystonic threshold since a dystonic synergy is already present. Now, if the individual again engages in overreaching within this mid-range zone—pushing repeated below-threshold excitatory bursts—theoretically speaking, we propose that this can gradually form a new 2nd dystonic synergy above that weakened threshold.
Each time you overreach at a newly lowered capacity, certain E-E synapses of pyramidal neurons receive repeated, partial but frequent spikes, enough to nudge them toward incremental LTP. Because these bursts are only partial—never fully synchronized or forceful—they fail to co-activate the local inhibitory interneurons in a matched, Hebbian manner, preventing E→I and I→E connections from similarly strengthening. This mismatch allows an “upper subcircuit” to acquire progressively stronger excitatory synaptic efficacy without the parallel inhibitory feedback that would keep it balanced.
Simultaneously, the existing dystonic synergy remains insulated because it has branched off via metaplastic changes, becoming self-sustaining at an even higher intensity domain. The new synergy under formation in the mid-range zone no longer taps the same pool of synaptic resources that had consolidated in the original dystonic synergy; instead, it reuses or reorganizes the moderately weakened domain’s E-E synapses to form another excitatory-dominant subnetwork. By the principle of occlusion, each new synergy eventually saturates its excitatory side once enough partial bursts have incrementally stabilized those E-E synapses. Its inhibitory half, however, remains underdeveloped due to insufficient synchronous drive.
Theoretically, repeating this cycle could yield multiple discrete dystonic synergies stacked at successively lower intensities: every time you degrade the functional synergy’s capacity through repeated, unreinforced technique changes, then overreach in the new true weakness zone, you carve out a fresh excitatory subcircuit that consolidates into a second or third dystonia. We propose that such an outcome is incredibly rare in practical life because it demands an extreme—and arguably irrational—training pattern: continually changing techniques, never consolidating progress, and persistently pushing above whichever reduced threshold emerges. Nonetheless, from a strict neurological plasticity standpoint, theoretically speaking, there is no fundamental mechanism that categorically prevents an individual from creating multiple dystonic synergies in this layered fashion. Each synergy would simply occupy its own “band” of excitatory intensities above each newly formed true weakness threshold.
Importantly, when a new dystonic synergy first begins to form above the old functional synergy’s threshold, its E-E synapses are only partially potentiated. These subthreshold bursts, although enough to trigger LTP in the newly emerging circuit, have not yet driven all those synapses to their upper capacity as limited by occlusion principles. Consequently, if you keep operating in that same high-intensity range—whether precisely at or somewhat beyond/overreaching the dystonic synergy’s current excitatory capacity—the repeated bursts of presynaptic spiking continue to “tag” and capture plasticity-related proteins (e.g., CaMKII, PKMζ, BDNF) in that same excitatory network. We hypothesize that in the scenario where the individual overreaches repetitively past the capacity of a partially developed excitatory circuit of the dystonic synergy, these repeated activations would simply push the synergy’s E-E connections closer to their maximum potentiation, without creating a separate additional dystonic synergy.
Forming a distinct second dystonic synergy would require going through a different true weakness zone that sits below the newly established dystonic threshold. In other words, one would have to degrade the functional synergy further, establish a new midrange true weakness threshold, and then repeatedly overreach in that range. By contrast, using the existing dystonic synergy—even at intensities that exceed its current excitatory strength—merely keeps reinforcing the same maladaptive subnetwork. The inhibitory subcircuit continues to lag behind because these bursts remain partial or unsynchronized, failing to co-activate PV interneurons robustly. Thus, the result is an incremental climb toward saturation in the existing dystonic synergy rather than the creation of an entirely new one.
In short, once a dystonic synergy has formed in that upper band of intensities, additional attempts to surpass its still-maturing excitatory capacity do not cause a second dystonia; they simply strengthen the ongoing dystonic network until it nears occlusion. A genuinely new dystonic synergy would only emerge if you later carved out another true weakness threshold (through technique changes) and then started overreaching there in the same partial-burst, suboptimal manner that gave rise to the first one.
In addition, “counter-motion,” in our framework, refers to an intentional effort to produce the antagonist movement of a dystonically driven motion. For example, if the dystonic synergy causes involuntary hyperflexion in the right index finger, counter-motion means attempting extension with that same finger while it simultaneously experiences the dystonic symptom of hyperflexion. Critically, we propose that each digit’s representation in M1 consists of multiple partially overlapping TSMS (e.g., flexion, extension, abduction, adduction) with each unidirectional movement pattern qualifying as a separate TSMS at the cortical level. While there is partial overlap in their neuronal populations, each synergy also depends on its own subset of pyramidal cells and PV interneurons.
In this example, the dystonic hyperflexion synergy has developed right above the functional flexion synergy’s existing excitatory and inhibitory capacities with abnormally high E-E synaptic strength with impaired inhibitory feedback (via weakened PV interneuron circuits). As a result, once a patient’s intended movement or speed level crosses the symptom threshold where that dystonic synergy fully engages, its pyramidal neurons outpace competing ensembles for the same finger, generating an involuntary over-firing of flexor-oriented neural output.
When no counter-motion is attempted, we hypothesize that only the dystonic synergy for that digit is significantly active. Because it is hyperexcitable and insufficiently clamped by inhibitory synapses, it saturates large portions of the local pyramidal population that controls the finger’s prime-mover muscles. In other words, we propose that the dystonic ensemble hijacks a large fraction of the available motor cortical neurons for that digit, displacing or overshadowing the functional synergy that would normally execute non-dystonic movement at that force or speed. We propose that this overshadowing arises because many of the same cortical neurons can, in principle, be recruited by either synergy; however, the dystonic synergy’s abnormally strengthened E-E connections and weak E/I regulation make it more likely to discharge robustly and lock the population into a maladaptive pattern of sustained firing. When the patient attempts a counter-motion at the same time as the dystonic symptoms, it means that some subset of pyramidal neurons—those still belonging to the functional synergy for the finger’s antagonist motion—also receive sufficient descending drive to initiate extension. This extension drive, however, remains drastically constrained. We propose that as soon as the dystonic synergy has saturated a large proportion of the digit’s neuronal pool with runaway E-E firing, there are fewer “free” or recruitable pyramidal neurons left to build a robust antagonist command. By analogy, the functional synergy would need to ramp up to a high intensity to push the finger fully into extension, but it cannot fully scale its excitatory output because so many neurons (and so much plasticity “bandwidth”) are already consumed by the dystonic ensemble’s hyperexcitable firing pattern. Consequently, the patient manages only a partial, limited extension—the extension synergy can never ramp to the point of overreaching even if its synaptic strength has not reached the theoretical maximum.
We defined overreaching earlier as a situation in which a functional synergy attempts an intensity beyond its own synaptic capacity, causing the pyramidal neurons to fire in repeated, partial bursts that fail to recruit inhibitory interneurons in a well-timed manner. These repeated submaximal bursts can eventually form a new dystonic subcircuit by selectively potentiating excitatory connections without matching inhibitory strengthening. To create a second dystonia, one would need the functional synergy (now aiming for extension, for example) to chronically operate in that “partial-burst,” suboptimal regime each time the performer tries a force or speed above the synergy’s capacity. However, when the patient is already in a state of active dystonia (i.e., the dystonic synergy in flexion is saturating the cortical motor pool), we hypothesize that the counter-motion synergy cannot approach its upper limit of excitatory drive. Because most excitatory neurons are pinned into the hyperflexion mode (or are at least significantly depolarized in that pattern), the antagonist synergy lacks the neuronal resources to perform repeated subthreshold bursts. Instead, what the patient experiences is a shallow, relatively low-frequency extension command that coexists with the hyperflexion drive. This weak extension command does not represent classical “overreaching,” as the functional extension synergy can never push its excitatory circuit to intensities that outstrip its synaptic strength capacity in isolation; it is simply overshadowed/dwarfed by the dystonic synergy’s robust hyperexcitability and strong E-E feedback loops.
Thus, even though from an external perspective one might assume that trying counter motion against a strong involuntary flexion may potentially seem like overreaching—in the context that the extension synergy’s synaptic strength has not yet reached the theoretical maximum—given the fact that the intensity attempted triggers the dystonic synergy, on a cellular level, the extension synergy is prevented from actually scaling up to that level. Once again, we propose that the active dystonic ensemble hogs resources when the pyramidal neurons that would ordinarily be available to ramp up extension firing are already firing in the flexor-oriented pattern or are so depolarized by the dystonic ensemble’s E-E drive that they cannot respond to another excitatory input with well-timed bursts. Because of this inability to truly overreach, the counter-motion does not generate the repeated subthreshold bursts that are necessary to form a new, second dystonia. On the contrary, it remains a modest extension command whose excitatory drive never enters the unstable zone where excitatory plasticity outstrips inhibitory plasticity. Over time, no new maladaptive synergy is cemented for the antagonist direction. The counter-motion synergy’s presence therefore does not undermine or supersede the dystonic synergy, nor does it form its own pathologically imbalanced subnetwork, as it is physiologically unable to reach the partial-burst, high-intensity regime that can create a second dystonia. Consequently, even as the patient voluntarily tries to extend against the strong involuntary flexion, the net effect is simply a visually observable “tug of war” between a hyperexcitable dystonic synergy and a much weaker, functional synergy.