Working with artists and scientists has demonstrated that great art constitutes an open investigation into the human condition - into experience, memory and love.

These subjects are also common to scientific study. Yet despite these universal interests, I’m convinced that artists are cast from a different mould to scientists and our recent study looking into "brain types" suggests that this is indeed the case.

This year, two Scottish art galleries have been shortlisted for the Gulbenkian Prize for the Museum of the Year, which awards originality and innovation in galleries and exhibition spaces across the UK. This is proof, if any was needed, of a thriving Scottish arts scene that is well prepared to take on its southern neighbour.

But beyond any geographical divisions, the award highlights for me, as a scientist, a deeper cultural divide - only one science exhibition out of 13 has been nominated for the prize.

Science consistently fails to engage the public imagination on the same scale as the arts. Although progress is certainly being made, largely thanks to the enthusiasm and ardour of a few scientists committed to its public communication, this failure may have a deeper cause.

It has become increasingly evident to me that there is a limited number of scientists who can genuinely engage with the public imagination. This certainly reflects a lack of support given to scientists by funding bodies, universities and heads of departments who believe that communicating science diminishes one’s scientific merit.

Yet even if the right channels were available, is the lack of good communicators also due to the relative inability of scientists to engage with other minds and imaginations per se? And if so, why is that the case?

If I were to take you to the faculty of engineering at the University of Strathclyde, then to the Mackintosh building, home of Glasgow School of Art, I wouldn’t have to tell you whether you where in an arts or science institution. Scientists dress differently to artists. Sartorial innovation and even, sometimes, awareness is a rare thing in our science departments. But not only that - the feel of these places is different, the way people talk, they way they walk, the sensual temper of the place.

I have worked with artists and scientists for ten years and there is no doubt in my mind they are different species - and thankfully, you might think.

If, as I believe as a neuroscientist, all our thoughts, emotions and imagination are constructs of our brains, then it would appear that the mind of the artist must work very differently to that of the scientist.

Of course, some of my colleagues would say this is all cultural and no more - but I’m not too sure. Maybe we were born to be artists or scientists.

Part of an ongoing study into science and art, which will be discussed at a talk at the Glasgow Science Centre next week, suggests that when taken as a group, scientists are systemisers while artists are empathisers.

Perhaps this is not surprising. The nature of the scientific endeavour calls for an unwavering objectivity and focus on the systematic classification of knowledge through repeatable measurement, without the presence of the subjectivity of the researcher.

	‘There is no doubt in my mind that artists and scientists are different species’

By contrast, artists’ work requires a constant awareness of the existence of other subjectivities, of their own and others’ personal, social and historical context.

In other words, they must have a strong degree of empathy, a trait which scientists, at least as most science is practised today, do not need in abundance.

The survey, using a questionnaire devised by Professor Simon Baron-Cohen, of Cambridge University, investigated levels of systemising and empathising in 1,500 scientists and artists. Scientists scored 22 per cent higher than artists on systemising, and artist scored 8 per cent higher than scientists on empathising.

So if the ability to imagine the minds of others really is somewhat lesser for scientists, then maybe that helps to explain why there are fewer scientists able to reach out and grab the public’s attention. In my mind, it’s certainly not because science is any less interesting.

Now, systemising and empathising may seem like so much psychobabble, but these concepts have been placed on a firm scientific footing by Prof Baron-Cohen, who argues forcefully that these two "brain types" actually reflect heritable biological differences.

Moreover, one cause of these differences may be down to levels of sex hormones, particularly testosterone. This is central to Prof Baron-Cohen’s argument, since he claims that the "essential difference" between men and women is that men are systemisers and women empathisers. Of course, he is talking about population averages here, and for individuals things are not so black and white.

The results of our study may then go some way towards explaining the perceived sex differences in the arts and the sciences.

Finally, perhaps most tantalisingly, Prof Baron-Cohen has used a similar test to demonstrate that people who suffer from Asperger’s syndrome (a high-functioning form of autism) score very high on systemising and very low on empathising. And Asperger individuals - usually men - are far more likely to be found in the sciences, particularly the "hard" sciences like maths and engineering.

The Glasgow Science Centre lecture will look more closely at just how scientists’ and artists’ brains might differ, and whether these differences are environmentally or culturally mediated, or innate.

On the way, I will look at the recent discovery of a brain area that is thought to be the basis for mathematical ability, and what happens when it goes wrong.

I’ll also look at artistic creativity, through the remarkable story of a 56-year-old builder who developed a profound sense of creativity following a stroke, and how we might all tap into our creativity.

• Dr Mark Lythgoe is a neurophysiologist at University College, London. His lecture is at the Glasgow Science Centre at 7pm next Thursday. He was assisted in data analysis by Tom Pollak, a visiting research psychologist.