Who made your brain do it?

By Jason Lim

``Did Your Brain Make You Do It?” That was the title of a New York Times op-ed column on July 27 written by John Monterosso, associate professor of psychology and neuroscience at the University of Southern California, and Barry Schwartz, professor of psychology at Swarthmore College.

Their main point was that, from a biological perspective, it is always true that our ``brains made us do it” because each of our behavior is always associated with a brain state. This leads to a slippery slope in which no criminal could be held accountable for his or her crimes since the behavior wasn’t under that person’s control; it was their brains that made them do it.

Which begs the question: who made your brain do it? Or more specifically, who made your brain do what it made you do?

I apologize if I am starting to sound like, ``Who’s on first?” So, let’s explore this further.

Monterosso and Schwartz go on to present an even scarier scenario. As they write, ``As science advances, there will be more and more ‘causal’ alternatives to intentional explanations, and we will be faced with more decisions about when to hold people responsible for their behavior.”

They mean that, in the future, there will be more and more evidence that a certain brain state ― where it’s some neurochemicals out of balance, neurotransmitters firing out of sequence, or lack of potassium and calcium in someone’ diet leading to underperforming prefrontal cortex ― ``causes” certain behavior in people that could be criminal in nature. In other words, these criminal behaviors are not products of a conscious ``intent” to choose to execute the said behavior, but a direct result of an ``abnormal” brain state. Once again, your brain made you do it.

But if that’s true, where are ``you” in this process? If our behavior is caused entirely by a brain state, then who or what is making the brain do it? If the brain is a car, who is the driver? Or is the car driving itself? Then where do we fit into this new equation?

The old equation was fairly simple. We were the sum of our behaviors, which were driven by our choices, which were determined by our conscious intent; this meant that you were fully responsible and accountable for your behavior because you chose in which way to act.

Now this is the new equation: we are the sum of our behaviors, which are caused by our brain states, which are determined biologically without us having a say in it.

Then, where in this process do I get to choose? Even more fundamentally, if everything that we exhibit is a varying combination of brain states, then who am I? Is there an independent ``me” at all apart from my brain that can exercise the free will to choose?

This is a disturbing question. There is something in me that instinctively resists defining my existence as the sum of my biological functions. I want to be responsible and accountable for my own actions. I really do. I don’t really want to realize that my autonomy was all just an illusion.

So, how do I prove, in the face of this neuroscientific onslaught, that I exist apart from my brain cells?

At this point, it becomes more of a spiritual question than a psychological, scientific, or legal one. And no less authority than Dalai Lama provides a proof.

Experiments with Tibetan Buddhist adepts have shown that focused and repeated meditation causes physical change in the structure and activity of the brain. In short, evidence shows that conscious, focused thought can rewire the brain to adopt different thinking or decision-making circuits.

This is huge because it serves as a negative proof that proves that ``I” exist apart from my brain. If my conscious, focused thought can change my brain, then ``I” must be different and apart from my ``brain.” Unless I exist outside my brain, how could I consciously change it? Therefore, I am not my brain.

I don’t know if this meets the mathematical standards of proof but it is comforting nonetheless. It is comforting because knowing that I am not my brain gives me back the three elements of true motivation, as described by Daniel Pink in his bestselling book, ``Drive”: autonomy, mastery, and purpose. He calls them the secret to high performance and satisfaction ― at work, at school, and at home ― because they provide the deeply human need to direct our own lives, to learn and create new things and to do better by ourselves and our world. And we can’t do that if we cede ``ourselves” to a random, arbitrary set of brain states.

I don’t want to be the 21st century version of creationists and totally discount the findings by neuroscience. I freely acknowledge that my brain makes me do it. But I also want to reserve the right for me to make my brain do it.

The author lives and works in Washington D.C. He’s been writing for The Korea Times since 2006. His email address is Jason@jasonlim.net.