Dr. Joshua R. Sanes, aptly named director of Harvard's Center for Brain Science, says in a recent New York Times article titled "The Day When Neurons Go On Trial": "It is now
believed that diseased (brain) circuits cause diseased brains, which we experience as psychological disorders." He wonders whether such structures may cause a person to commit a crime. Could someone plausibly argue that his neurons--or his neurons
affected by certain environmental factors--made him do it? "Fifteen years from now somebody is going to say it's the 489th neuron from the back of your ear that made you do it," Sanes says. "That's going to be hard to dismiss." In fact, while
not going so far as to pinpoint precisely the "guilty" neurons, defense attorneys are already offering the "diseased" brain defense. Attorneys for John McCluskey, a former Arizona inmate convicted of killing an Oklahoma couple while on the run in New
Mexico, argue that McCluskey is a "remorseful animal lover unable to properly reason because of his abusive childhood and brain defects." They contend that jurors should spare McCluskey the death penalty not out of sympathy (which remark itself is a
play for sympathy) but out of the understanding that the way in which his brain works makes him unable to control his impulses. He cannot make reasoned decisions, they hold, owing to brain abnormalities exacerbated by emotional and physical abuse plus
a long history of drug and alcohol abuse.
But here's the thing:
Far be it from me to stand in
the way of scientific progress. Let us continue to study earnestly the brain and all of its neurons and circuits. That is a good thing in itself and it may eventually help us to understand, evaluate, and modify human behavior. But in regard
to brain "disease" and human culpability for crimes, many questions leap to mind.
Is there such a thing as a "normal" brain? Would such a brain be absolutely free of "diseased"
circuits? Or would it possess a few, though not many, "diseased" circuits? How many "diseased" circuits does it take to qualify a brain as "diseased"? Will just one suffice? Does the bearer of a "diseased" brain by definition experience
psychological disorders? Are all psychological disorders a product of brain "disease"? Are some people born with "normal" brains but develop brain "disease" because they experience head traumas caused by various kinds of accidents and collisions?
Do various kinds of emotional and physical abuse cause brains to develop "disease"? Is post-traumatic stress a symptom of brain "disease"? Can it be a cause of brain "disease"? When a group of persons experience the same traumatic situation
(soldiers in a battle, say), why do some develop PTSD whereas some do not? Is it because those who do are the bearers of "diseased" brains whereas those who do not are the bearers of "normal" brains? Of those who develop PTSD, why do some commit
crimes whereas some do not? Do psychological disorders resulting from "diseased" brains invariably lead people to commit crimes? Do all people with similarly "diseased" brain circuits (the 489th neuron from the back of the ear, say) commit crimes?
Or certain types of crimes? Are people with "diseased" brains incapable of determining right from wrong? Or are they capable of determining right from wrong but incapable of choosing the right as opposed to the
wrong? Is it possible that some people have "diseased" brains yet still do not commit crimes? Is that because of self-control? Is it because of lack of opportunity? Is it because of lack of stress? Is it because of fear?
Do "normal" brains develop "normally," free of "diseased" circuits? Is it the "normality" of the brain that makes its bearer able to distinguish right from wrong and also able to choose between doing right as opposed to doing wrong?
Are the bearers of such brains therefore able to control their behavior? Are they therefore responsible for both their good and their bad behavior, whereas those with "diseased" brains are not? Can a brain scan that reveals "diseased" circuits
determine a person's susceptibility to committing a crime? Can it help determine guilt or innocence? Can some instances of "diseased" brain circuits be inconsequential because that part of the brain is not used in ethical decision-mking?
Or can it be the case that a part of the brain that prompts a certain type of behavior (stealing, say) is "diseased" while a part of the brain that affects a different type of behavior (murdering, say) is "normal"? Would this mean that a person with
a "diseased" brain might be responsible for certain types of crimes but not for others? Or does "disease" in any one part of the brain trump the "normal" parts of the brain, taking all behavior out of the control of the "diseased" individual, thereby
rendering that individual "innocent" of everything?
In addition to gaining general knowledge about how the brain works, the future scanning of brains in search of "diseased"
circuits would seem to have the following purposes: preventing crime, determining culpability for crimes committed, and determining punishment for crimes committed.
To use brain
scans to prevent crime, we would have to demand that all persons from adolescents to senescents undergo an annual scan. We would then have to require therapeutic surgery to repair "diseased" circuits (though in time probably a drug or an implanted 'bot
could be created to do the job). The traumatic stress of considering any such proposal would bring "disease" to the brain circuits of most Americans, from Tea Party members to ACLU members. As the success of dystopian novels like Brave New
World, A Clockwork Orange, and One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest makes clear, achieving a crime-free society through preventative physical engineering and psychological conditioning are anathema in America.
To use scans to determine culpability for crimes committed and to determine suitable punishment for such commissions, we would have to abandon our beliefs about individual responsibility. We would have to abandon
our belief that punishment will deter the guilty party from committing a similar crime again as well as deter others from committing similar crimes. We would also have to abandon our belief that committing a crime demands justice in the form of punishment
(regardless of whether punishment deters) and/or reparations. We would have to say of Ted Bundy that "diseased" brain circuits made him kill and that therefore he did not deserve the death penalty. We would have to say that "diseased" brain circuits
caused Bernie Madoff to bilk others with his Ponzi schemes and that therefore he does not deserve his prison sentence. Where will brain science take us? Do we let the "diseased" skate? Do we give them lesser punishment? Does the
concept of guilt disappear altogether? Do we employ this expanded version of Catch 22: if you have "diseased" brain circuits, you can't be held responsible for your behavior; if you have "normal" circuits, you can; but if you do commit a crime, you can't
be "normal" and therefore cannot be held responsible for your behavior?
Since the Garden of Eden, humans have searched for the causes of criminal behavior. Some theologians
posit original sin. Some psychologists, following Sigmund Freud, posit an imbalance between id-ego-and superego. Some sociologists posit environmental factors like poverty and unequal opportunity. ("I'm depraved on account of I'm deprived,"
sang a gang member humorously to Officer Krupke in Westside Story.) And now neurologists are scanning brains to find physiological reasons for bad behavior. Neurological studies are a welcome step in the right direction. But I doubt
that we'll ever be able to pinpoint specific neurons as causes of specific bad behaviors that are beyond an individual's control. I doubt that we'll ever be able to develop socially acceptable techniques for surgically "correcting" "diseased"
brains. And I doubt that we'll ever abandon the concepts of individual responsibility and guilt that have governed humans since ethical insights first occurred to our species. Genocide, murder, assault, rape, racism, sexism, homophobia, hate crime,
hate speech, robbery--which of these crimes will we be willing to say deserves little or no punishment because it is caused by brain "disease"? When will we be willing to say that Norman and Norma Normal Brain are guilty by virtue of their "normality"
(that is, they are responsible for their choices), whereas Dizzy and Daisy Diseased Brain, though they may have committed a crime, are essentially innocent and must be either exonerated or lightly punished or given therapeutic mental/physical treatment because
they were controlled by their "diseased" brains?
Not in 15 years, I'd wager.
*****
In a recent Huffington Post posting titled "Top 5 Regrets of the Dying," Elisha Goldstein reports that a survey reveals these regrets as the Top 5:
1. I wish I'd had the courage to express my true feelings.
2. I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life
others expected of me.
3. I wish I hadn't worked so hard.
4. I wish I had stayed in touch with
my friends.
5. I wish I had let myself be happier.
As one in the fourth quarter of his life
whose rueful decisions keep popping unbidden into his consciousness, it's easy for me to believe that many of us look back at our lives and express regrets for what we did and didn't do. It's easy to believe that we think that we wish that we had pulled
a Sinatra and lived life "My Way."
But (taking the five regrets in order) here's the thing:
1.
Certainly we old ones sometimes wish we had not left unexpressed certain loves, hates, likes, dislikes. Why, oh why, did we not speak out? Why did we not dare to tell it like it was? However, the reasons for withholding the truth about our
feelings (whether they be negative or positive) are probably stronger than the reasons for not doing so. When we have negative feelings about someone, we often refrain from expressing them in order to avoid causing pain to that person or to avoid antagonizing
them to the extent that we risk losing their friendship, patronage, or love. When we have positive feelings about someone--or heartfelt opinions about something--we often refrain from expressing them in order to avoid the risk of embarrassment or rejection.
We may suffer from suppressing some of our yearnings, but a cool cost/benefits analysis usually reveals that we were right after all to have bitten our lips.
2. Sexual preferences
aside, most of us keep parts of ourselves in the closet for self-protection. It's likely that we are actually being true to ourselves by living the life that others expect of us, because a basic part of our makeup is that we not risk upsetting others
and losing their friendship, respect, patronage, or love.
3. If we hadn't worked so hard, we wouldn't have the economic stability that we enjoy today. Further, working
hard is probably what, deep down, we really wanted to do because work provided a sense of identity and brought other rewards--recognition, sense of achievement, sense of having played a useful, even important, role in society--in addition to economic benefits.
4. If we didn't stay in touch with friends it's probably because we found our jobs absorbing, or we developed new interests different from those of our friends, or we or they moved to a
new environment. We probably didn't write many letters or make many phone calls because doing so would have taken time away from more immediate pleasures. (With the burgeoning of social media, younger generations may find it much easier to stay
in touch with friends if they so desire.)
5. Paradoxically, we were probably happier not letting ourselves be happier. We probably got a greater sense of fulfillment from
meeting obligations and duties and planning for the future. We were probably happier in the traces than we would have been out of them.
As we take stock at life's end,
most of us probably can't help rueing specific acts of commission and omission. There's little point, however, in wishing that we had done it "My Way." Chances are, we did.