----- Forwarded Message ----
From: Norman Holland <[email protected]>
To: [email protected]
Sent: Mon, July 30, 2012 8:35:31 AM
Subject: Brain
and Ethics

FYI.  --Norm


 dana.org  Original Page 
Are You Responsible for
Your Hormones?
        * Read Later 
In The Moral Molecule,  neuroeconomist Paul J.
Zak describes a fascinating 
intersection of  neuroscience, cultural
anthropology, economics, philosophy, and  
politics. Given that many
scientists specialize in only one, or maybe  two, of 
these domains, taking
the time to synthesize developments across  fields can 
spark broad new
frameworks and even paradigm shifts. Such  synthesis can also 
capture the
attention of the general public,  especially given a topic that 
reflects our
most personal experiences:  moral behavior.
This book presents an often
autobiographical  account of the authorbs research 
on the biological basis
of ethical  behavior, with a focus on the pituitary 
peptide hormone oxytocin,
the  so-called moral molecule. The bookbs scope is 
wide-ranging, including
an  evolutionary and a religious perspective and 
vignettes ripped from the
headlines, all laced with personal anecdotes. The 
casual tone will  likely
make the material accessible to a broad audience. But 
at times,  Dr. Zak
oversimplifies his arguments, leaving me with some questions 
and  concerns.
Dr. Zak begins by sharing some of the initial  experiments that led him to
study 
the connection between oxytocin and  trust. In 2005 he reported the
intriguing 
finding that when individuals  engaged in the pro-social behavior
of being 
trustworthy in a monetary  transaction, they had higher levels of
oxytocin in 
their blood. He  summarizes the rich literature on this
evolutionarily favored 
peptide,  which demonstrates that it promotes maternal
behavior and even social  
monogamy in a variety of species. He then presents
testosterone as a  
counterpart to oxytocin, as though a yin-yang relationship
exists. Many  social 
behaviors that cannot be explained by oxytocin are
associated  with variations 
in testosterone, such as sex differences in
behavior,  philandering, rule 
enforcing, and outgroup-directed aggression.
Having  described the role of oxytocin on social behavior, the author suggests
that various behavioral problems may relate to oxytocin dysfunction,  acquired
either due to developmental maltreatment or congenital issues,  such as in
autism or psychopathy. Although these specific mental health  problems are
strikingly different, affected individuals and society  would benefit
substantially if research on oxytocin provided clues to  treat and prevent
these 
serious behavioral problems. Furthermore, Dr.  Zak proposes that
community 
activities, such as dancing and spiritual  quests, promote natural
oxytocin 
release, thereby providing a sense of  wellbeing. Thus, argues Dr.
Zak, in 
addition to clinical applications,  oxytocin research may translate
into 
positive psychology approaches. One  may imagine emotional hygiene
regimens, 
with appropriate doses of  social contact and prayer, devised to
enhance our 
oxytocin secretion.
The  final section of the book returns to
trust and its importance in trade  and 
commerce. This section includes the
message that a few highly  
testosterone-laden individuals warp our
oxytocin-mediated biological  tendency 
to engage in fair interactions. In a
marketplace without  reciprocity, the 
inevitable withdrawal of participation
erodes the  synergistic benefits we 
normally enjoy from specialization and
trade.  Likewise, society needs trust for 
effective governing. Dr. Zak
prescribes authentic communication, diversity 
exposure, policies that
reinforce fairness, and improved education as policies 
that would  promote
societal prosperity via enhanced oxytocin activity. As he  
presents oxytocin
as a mediator of morality in the marketplace and in  politics, 
it takes on a
divine aura. The take-home message is  reminiscent of an uplifting 
new-age
sermon: hug often.
Although  (or because) the topics of the book are engaging,
I had a number of  
concerns. Dr. Zak presents the thesis of the book, that
moral behavior  is 
mediated by oxytocin, without a working definition of
morality. The  behavioral 
effects of oxytocin in humans, as described in the
book, seem  better described 
more narrowly as pro-social. The ethical virtue
of  humanity, defined by 
positive psychologists Christopher Peterson and
Martin Seligman, includes love, 
kindness, and social intelligence,1 and these
qualities match well with oxytocin 
actions, as indicated by  the research
presented here. However, ethical behavior 
is often  construed as
manifestations of character traits, such as wisdom,  
courage, and temperance.
Dr. Zak does not consider the possible roles of  
oxytocin in these aspects of
moral behavior, which often require higher  
cognitive processing than a
pro-social impulse. Thus, although bmoral  moleculeb 
is a catchy
nickname, it is imprecise.
In addition, the  function of oxytocin may not be
to specifically promote social 
behavior.  Researchers have proposed that the
underlying effect of oxytocin 
simply  may be to reduce anxiety2 or to promote
the salience of social cues.3 In 
some cases, by making social cues more
conspicuous, individuals may behave in a 
hostile manner.4 It would be hard to
interpret such behavior as moral. Such 
considerations may give behaviorists
pause.
Dr.  Zakbs references to preliminary or extrapolated evidence
undermine the  
force of his argument. For example, Dr. Zak explains that
oxytocinbs  effects on 
pro-social behavior are mediated by serotonin and
dopamine,  creating the 
impression that researchers have completely uncovered
the  neural circuitry. But 
given that experimental evidence for this proposed
mechanism is not documented, 
the reader may be left wondering how to
separate fact from speculation 
elsewhere in the book. Likewise, when the
author makes the bold statement that 
bif the oxytocin receptors are not
stimulated by love and attention early on, 
they fail to develop,b I
suspect he was not describing the extant data 
literally.
The Moral Molecule
will leave the reductionist reader hungry for details about 
the  mechanisms
that control oxytocin and testosterone secretion. Although  
these hormones
may affect our social brain circuits, what in turn  controls 
them? A neural
circuit must have evolved to detect the specific  circumstances 
that demand
pro-social behaviors. Should not this neural  network be considered 
the
ethical (or humanist) prime mover, instead of  oxytocin?
Overall, The Moral
Molecule exposes some very  fertile ground for future 
research, and the
author is to be commended  for presenting a coherent and 
engaging discussion
of oxytocin function,  spanning biopsychology and 
philosophy. Although some
may prefer a more  scientifically rigorous discussion, 
this book is likely to
engage a  broad audience interested in the new frontiers 
of social
neuroscience.

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