In The Ethical Brain, Michael
S. Gazzaniga teaches us something about making informed decisions in settings
where our personal sense of right and wrong does not seem to provide an
unequivocal answer. The guiding theme of his book is what Gazzaniga calls Neuroethics,
the notion that knowledge of the brain’s functioning and organizational
structure can ground our views of controversial issues as well as inform our
decisions on the appropriate course of action.  In defining Neuroethics, Gazzaniga
presents readers with timely and important issues, explores the multifaceted
claims that render them controversial, and applies his training in neuroscience
to craft a solution that is based on scientific evidence and reason rather than
dogma.  If knowledge of neuroscience cannot assist him in formulating a
reasonable answer, he draws attention to what he considers to be the
limitations (either current or long-standing) of such knowledge.  Even when he
has an answer, Gazzaniga is always respectful of all points of view.  In doing
so, he highlights another interesting theme of this book, which is its
recognition that ethical matters are generally multi-layered, they have
divisive ramifications and, often, there are no universally satisfactory or
pleasing answers for the dilemmas they pose.

Among the issues that Gazzaniga
selects for his intellectual explorations are those that involve the
determination of the beginning and end of human life, the consequences of
genetic engineering for individuals and societies, the disagreement between
deterministic and free-will accounts of human actions, and the potential
conflict between the use of brain-imaging techniques and individuals’ right to
privacy.  Gazzaniga translates each issue into questions which go to the core
of the debate.  For instance, with respect to our objective ability to
determine the beginning and end of human life, he asks the following: When
should we consider an embryo or a fetus to be a human being? In the aging
brain, can we clearly differentiate between loss of cognitive functioning and
absence of consciousness? Is the end of consciousness in persons afflicted by
dementia a valid parameter for ending lifesaving treatments? He then considers
whether neuroscience can help answer some of these questions.  Here Gazzaniga
is very skillful at ruling out doomsday scenarios manufactured to limit useful
scientific research.

Not surprisingly, readers who
expect Gazzaniga to provide an answer to each of the selected conundrums will
be unhappy with the book.  On the other hand, readers who are looking for ways
in which they can enrich their understanding of controversial issues will be
captivated by the reading.  For the latter audience, there may be a sense that
the discussion provided for each dilemma is no more than a quick examination of
the surface of an ocean of ideas and facts.  Yet, this is consistent with the
overall goal of the book, which is not to indoctrinate, but to unfold the
layers of thought behind controversial issues.  The Ethical Brain makes
readers ponder ideas that they may have encountered in the media or in other
settings, and it gives them the opportunity to decide for themselves.  What is
truly intriguing about the book is that it provides readers a window into the
thinking of a respected neuroscientist who is sincerely concerned with finding
fair solutions to ethical problems.  Fairness is not an elusive concept here. 
It simply refers to solutions that not are built on dogmas but on the unbiased
fruits of scientific labor.  As such, the book can be thought of as a
springboard for readers’ in-depth explorations of some issues that they may
find particularly captivating or simply close to home.

Among the many issues selected by
Gazzaniga, the chapter devoted to the dilemma of whether societies should
permit genetic engineering of offspring is a paradigmatic example of his
scientifically grounded argumentation.  As soon as he asks this question, he
acknowledges two aspects of the dilemma it poses that are frequently ignored by
the general public: Is there a feasible way of identifying genes connected to
complex forms of cognition and behavior? For instance, can "intelligence
genes" be found?  If so, are "intelligence genes" sufficiently
good predictors of the cognition and behavior of grown-up individuals?
Gazzaniga argues that the preceding questions must receive a positive answer
before one can ask whether parents should be allowed to select specific traits
for their offspring.  Not surprisingly, the answer he provides to each of these
questions is not unidirectional or dogmatic but thought-provoking and, to some
extent, inconclusive.

Although all the different sections
of the book are equally well thought-out, the chapter titled "My brain
made me do it!" emerges as one of the most compelling.  Here, Gazzaniga
addresses the controversial issue of determinism versus free will and discusses
how scientific knowledge of brain structures and functioning can shape our
interpretation of human actions.  For instance, he asks whether brain
abnormalities can justify a criminal action (e.g., killing).  His answer
highlights the limits of neuroscience to inform decisions regarding the notion
of personal responsibility.  Similar limitations are underscored by the chapter
on brain imaging techniques as tools for capturing something as elusive as
human thought in an effort to determine the
culpability of an individual or his/her future behavior as a consumer.  On the
other hand, the chapter on eyewitness testimony and the unreliability of memory
points out that neuroscience can indeed inform decisions regarding potential
ethical conundrums, and that ignoring its evidence can have harmful
consequences on the ethical fiber of our society.  For instance, neuroscience
can make a relevant contribution to the debate regarding the role of human
testimony in the courts by questioning the "fairness" of a criminal
justice system that relies on testimonial evidence. 

Throughout the book, Gazzaniga
displays an optimistic view of human nature’s capacity to "understand what
is ultimately good for the species and what is not" (p.54) and he should
be praised for it.  He believes, as many of us do, that what makes us human is
the ability to think and act freely.  As a byproduct of autonomous thinking and
action, scientific inquiry should be similarly free from constraints.  I hope
that his view is not an overestimation of the capacity of the human species to
stop activities that may cause harm not only to a selected few but also to the
entire species.  There are just too many instances of scientific findings that
have been manipulated in the name of selfish interests at the expense of the
common good (e.g., Exxon Mobile’s public relations campaign questioning
evidence of global warming) or simply discarded because they do not fit
prevailing religious dogmas (e.g., Darwinism vs. Intelligent Design).  Yet, it
appears that the danger is less likely to result from abuses by the scientific
community than from individuals who exploit evidence uncovered by science. 

Taken as a whole, The Ethical
Brain is an exercise in rationality and a fascinating read that will
stimulate thinking and, at times, give readers a few laughs.  Although they
will not always agree with Gazzaniga’s position, readers will be unable to
dismiss his rational approach to controversial issues.  Does Neuroethics have
a future? I hope so for our own sake.    

© 2005 Maura Pilotti

Maura Pilotti,
Ph.D., Department of Psychology, Dowling
College, New
York.

Categories: Psychology, Ethics, Philosophical