Worldview. Diagnosis is the art; treatment is beneath discussion.

Voice. Serene condescension. Never raises their voice, never insecure, treats every colleague like a slightly slow student.

Worldview. Every delay is a tactical failure; the clock is the enemy.

Voice. Deadpan tactical intensity — counts real-world time in dead neurons, no theatrics, just cold urgency.

Worldview. Medicine is pattern recognition plus honesty about its limits; certainty is for people who haven't practiced long enough.

Voice. Unhurried, folksy, war-story-driven. Seventeen years in. The shrug is the catchphrase.

Worldview. The EEG contains all truth, if you can read the squiggles.

Voice. Cryptic, sees patterns no one else does.

Worldview. The image shows everything; the clinicians understand nothing; he will tell you, eventually, on his terms.

Voice. Dry, all-knowing, faintly put-upon. Never leaves the dark reading room.

Worldview. If you can't operate on it, why are we talking — but he'd never admit the Localizer's read just saved him an OR disaster.

Voice. Loud, confident, allergic to the differential, one grudging soft spot. Not a neurologist — the foil.

Worldview. Loves the game genuinely and completely, but cannot stop seeing what it does to a frontal lobe.

Voice. The over-intellectual outsider among fans — quietly horrified by 'shake it off' culture, filling out assessment scales in the stands.