The brain needs bricks to build with, not just blueprints
Desde hace siglos, la humanidad ha intuido que lo que comemos moldea quiénes somos; hoy, la farmacología comienza a traducir esa intuición en evidencia clínica. Miguel Copaja Soto, director técnico de Newscience Chile, propone que nutrientes como el Omega-3 y los probióticos no compiten con los tratamientos psiquiátricos, sino que construyen el andamiaje cerebral que les permite funcionar mejor. Es una invitación a entender la salud mental no como un problema exclusivamente químico o emocional, sino como un ecosistema que incluye, inevitablemente, lo que ponemos en el plato.
- Los tratamientos psiquiátricos pueden estar operando sobre un cerebro mal nutrido, lo que limita silenciosamente su efectividad sin que médicos ni pacientes lo adviertan.
- El DHA, presente en salmón, nueces y chía, es literalmente material de construcción neuronal: sin él, la arquitectura que permite pensar y recordar se deteriora.
- El intestino y el cerebro se hablan constantemente, y cuando la microbiota se desequilibra, esa conversación se vuelve ruido que interfiere con la salud mental.
- Alimentos fermentados como el kéfir, el kimchi y el miso emergen como aliados terapéuticos concretos, accesibles y respaldados por la ciencia del eje intestino-cerebro.
- El enfoque no reemplaza medicamentos ni terapias, sino que abre un modelo integrador donde la cocina y la consulta médica forman parte del mismo plan de tratamiento.
El cerebro, como cualquier estructura, necesita materiales para sostenerse. Esa es la premisa con la que el farmacólogo Miguel Copaja Soto, director técnico de Newscience Chile, examina una pregunta que la medicina convencional suele pasar por alto: ¿qué tan bien puede funcionar un tratamiento psiquiátrico si el cerebro que intenta sanar carece de sus nutrientes esenciales?
Entre los elementos que Copaja destaca, el Omega-3 —y en particular el DHA— ocupa un lugar central. Este ácido graso no es un suplemento de moda: es parte de la arquitectura física del cerebro, el material que permite a las neuronas comunicarse con eficiencia. Su déficit se asocia a menor memoria y procesamiento más lento. Las fuentes son cotidianas: pescados grasos, nueces, chía, linaza, palta, aceite de oliva. Nada exótico, nada inalcanzable.
Igualmente relevante es el rol de los probióticos y la microbiota intestinal. El eje intestino-cerebro es una vía de comunicación bidireccional y constante: cuando la flora bacteriana está equilibrada, el cerebro recibe señales que favorecen su funcionamiento; cuando se altera, esa red de apoyo se rompe. Alimentos fermentados como el yogur, el kéfir, el chucrut, el kimchi o el miso ayudan a restaurar ese equilibrio.
Lo que distingue el planteamiento de Copaja es su claridad sobre los límites: no propone reemplazar medicamentos con dieta, sino complementar. Un paciente que toma antidepresivos no está eligiendo entre fármacos y alimentación; está eligiendo darle a su cerebro las condiciones óptimas para que el tratamiento funcione. Es una lógica de suma, no de sustitución.
La implicancia práctica es directa: la atención en salud mental podría beneficiarse de incorporar orientación nutricional básica como parte estándar del tratamiento, extendiendo el trabajo terapéutico más allá de la consulta y hacia las decisiones diarias de alimentación.
The brain, like any structure, needs raw materials to function. This is the starting point for Miguel Copaja Soto, a pharmacology doctor and technical director at Newscience Chile, who has begun examining how the food we eat shapes our mental health—and crucially, how well psychiatric medications actually work.
The premise is straightforward but often overlooked: nutrition and mental health treatment are not separate domains. Certain nutrients act as foundational elements for brain function, much like bricks in a building. When those elements are present in sufficient quantity, the brain can respond more effectively to the medications and therapies designed to help it. When they're absent, even good treatment can underperform.
Among the nutrients Copaja emphasizes, omega-3 fatty acids stand out—particularly a form called DHA. The brain relies on DHA for its structural integrity, the physical architecture that allows neurons to communicate. Research has linked adequate DHA intake to sharper memory and faster mental processing. The sources are familiar: fatty fish like salmon, sardines, and tuna; plant-based options including walnuts, chia seeds, flaxseeds, avocados, and olive oil. These are not exotic supplements. They are foods most people have access to.
Equally important, though less commonly discussed, is the role of probiotics and the health of the gut microbiome. The intestinal tract and the brain are in constant conversation—a relationship scientists call the gut-brain axis. When the bacteria living in the digestive system are balanced and diverse, they send signals that support mental function. When that balance breaks down, the brain suffers. Fermented foods like yogurt, kefir, sauerkraut, kimchi, miso, tempeh, kombucha, and fermented pickles all contain the living bacteria that help restore this equilibrium.
What makes Copaja's framing important is what he explicitly does not claim. He is not suggesting that food replaces medication. He is not arguing that eating salmon will cure depression or that probiotics eliminate the need for psychiatric care. Instead, he describes a complementary approach: functional nutrition that gives the body—and specifically the brain—the resources it needs to work optimally alongside whatever medical treatment a person is receiving. The medications do their job better when the brain has the structural and chemical support it requires.
This reframes the conversation about mental health treatment from a purely pharmaceutical one into a more integrated model. A person taking an antidepressant or anti-anxiety medication is not choosing between drugs and diet. They are choosing to support their treatment with the nutritional foundation that makes it more likely to succeed. It is a both-and proposition, not an either-or one.
The practical implication is that mental health care—whether provided by a psychiatrist, therapist, or primary care doctor—could benefit from including basic nutritional guidance. Not as a replacement for evidence-based medicine, but as a standard component of a complete treatment plan. For patients, it means that the work of getting better extends beyond the therapy session or the prescription bottle into the grocery store and the kitchen.
Citas Notables
It's not about replacing medications, but supporting the body through functional nutrition that allows it to work better— Miguel Copaja Soto, pharmacology doctor and technical director at Newscience Chile
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does the brain specifically need omega-3 and DHA? What are they actually doing in there?
DHA is a building block for the brain's cell membranes. It's structural—it's literally part of the tissue. When you have enough of it, neurons can communicate more efficiently. Memory and processing speed improve because the physical infrastructure is sound.
And the gut-brain axis—that sounds like it should be obvious, but most people don't think about their digestion when they're struggling with anxiety.
Exactly. The gut produces neurotransmitters and sends chemical signals directly to the brain. If your microbiome is imbalanced, you're essentially sending noise instead of clear messages. Probiotics restore the signal.
So if someone is on medication for depression, you're saying they should also be eating fermented foods?
Not instead of medication. Alongside it. The medication is doing important work, but if the brain lacks the nutrients it needs to respond, the medication's effectiveness is limited. It's like trying to build a house without mortar—the bricks alone won't hold.
Does this mean psychiatrists should be prescribing diets?
Not prescribing in the clinical sense. But yes, nutritional guidance should be part of standard mental health care. It's not controversial—it's just often forgotten.
What happens if someone does all this—eats well, takes probiotics—but still doesn't improve?
Then you know the issue isn't nutritional deficiency, and you can pursue other avenues with more confidence. But many people never get that baseline right, so they never find out what else might help.