The idea for
this blog came to me early one morning as I walked my dog. Suddenly our route
was blocked by a cadre of people. Clad in white, long-sleeved, loose-fitting
jerseys, they marched in an unbroken line in front of us. At strategic
intervals a row of three marchers supported a pole on which they waved a large
tricolor flag. The marchers’ eyes were fixed straight ahead, oblivious to
would-be passersby.
Envisioning a long delay before the
procession ended, I inadvertently uttered a profanity. Jolted by the
spontaneity and intensity of my negative reaction, I recognized the workings of
my “reptilian” brain, a term I remembered from my studies of neuropathology
years ago.
In the 1960’s Dr. Paul McLean, a neuroscientist/physician, conceived of the human brain as divided
into three basic parts based on their development, from simple to complex.
Although the division is now considered to be an oversimplification, the
terminology helps to understand how our brains function to negotiate the
complicated tasks of living.
The “lower”
portion of our brain resembles that found in crocodiles and snakes. Its major
function is survival, which explains (the power and passion of) the animal’s
attack against those it perceives as invading its turf.
My reptilian
brain perceived the marchers as invaders of “my” territory. Another example of a drastic response
to a phenomenon that, in retrospect, seems trivial is road rage.
The reptilian
brain operates on the premise of dominate or be dominated. Other traits include
an inability to learn from mistakes, control over
autonomic bodily functions, like heart beat, respiration, body temperature,
mating, and sleep. In humans, qualities like rigidity, obsessiveness,
compulsiveness, worship, fear, submission, and greed are attributed to this
older portion of the brain.
The new brain,
or more highly evolved neo-cortex, confers the ability to develop language, to
reason, to become self aware, to correct our mistakes, and most important, to
take charge of our reptilian brain.
The reptilian
portion of my brain caused me to react angrily to what I perceived as “invasion,”
but my neocortex stepped in to remind me that others have a right to be here
too.
Distinguishing
the functioning of our reptilian brain from the neocortex can go a long way to
helping us bring peace and prosperity to our planet. It is our great neocortex
that confers our humanity and separates us from all other animals.
(Located in
between the reptilian brain and the neocortex, the limbic system, seat of our
feelings and emotions, mediates the responses between these other two. This
middle brain or emotional center deserves a blog of its own, so I won’t address
it here.)
Arthur Clarke (1917) (books by this author) a great
science fiction writer, author of 2001: A Space Odyssey, held out high hope for
humanity. He said in a message delivered in 2007 on his 90th
birthday, "I have great faith in
optimism as a guiding principle, if only because it offers us the opportunity
of creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. So I hope we've learnt something from
the most barbaric century in history—the 20th. I would like to see us overcome
our tribal divisions and begin to think and act as if we were one family. That
would be real globalization ..."
Conclusion: To
accomplish Clark’s hopeful vision, we best recognize the workings and our
ability to control our reptilian brain. Our superior neocortex grants us the
capacity to be magnificent creatures capable of supporting civilization and the
well-being of our planet (as we recently witnessed in the international climate
control meetings in Paris). Here’s to a less violent 2016 and a more civilized
century!