theatlantic | Aristotle’s definition of man as a rational animal has recently taken quite a beating.
Part of the attack comes from neuroscience. Pretty, multicolored fMRI
maps make clear that our mental lives can be observed in the activity
of our neurons, and we’ve made considerable progress in
reading someone’s thoughts by looking at those maps. It’s clear, too,
that damage to the brain can impair the most-intimate aspects of
ourselves, such as the capacity to make moral judgments or to inhibit
bad actions. To some scholars, the neural basis of mental life suggests
that rational deliberation and free choice are illusions. Because our
thoughts and actions are the products of our brains, and because what
our brains do is determined by the physical state of the world and the
laws of physics—perhaps with a dash of quantum randomness in the
mix—there seems to be no room for choice. As the author and
neuroscientist Sam Harris has put it, we are “biochemical puppets.”
This conception of what it is to be a person fits poorly with our sense of how we live our everyday lives. It certainly feels
as though we make choices, as though we’re responsible for our actions.
The idea that we’re entirely physical beings also clashes with the
age-old idea that body and mind are distinct. Even young children
believe themselves and others to be not just physical bodies, subject to
physical laws, but also separate conscious entities, unfettered from
the material world. Most religious thought has been based on this kind
of dualist worldview, as showcased by John Updike in Rabbit at Rest, when Rabbit talks to his friend Charlie about Charlie’s recent surgery:
“Pig valves.” Rabbit tries to hide his revulsion. “Was it terrible? They split your chest open and ran your blood through a machine?”
“Piece of cake. You’re knocked out cold. What’s wrong with running your blood through a machine? What else you think you are, champ?”
A God-made one-of-a-kind with an immortal soul breathed in. A vehicle of grace. A battlefield of good and evil. An apprentice angel …
“You’re just a soft machine,” Charlie maintains.
