I recently heard an interview on Fresh Air with Adrian Raine, a neurobiologist, criminologist, and author of the book The Anatomy of Violence. Raine has conducted extensive brain-mapping of murderers, serial killers, and psychopaths and has demonstrated quite conclusively that violent criminals who have acted upon angry impulses very often have an underdeveloped prefrontal cortex. The prefrontal cortex is the segment of the brain that provides impulse control and effectively tells us "Even though you're really angry with him, don't pull out the kitchen knife and kill him." Raine describes this part of the brain as the "guardian angel" of the human conscience. As a result of his investigations, Raine is calling attention to the fact that some criminals commit crimes due to their very biological makeup. And this not only applies to murder, but also to less serious offenses such as cheating on a test, stealing, lying, and so on.
Raine and the host Terry Gross talked extensively about the legal implications of this finding, but meanwhile my own brain was spinning as I considered the theological implications. As a child of the Wesleyan tradition, I have always believed strongly in human free will and agency. In fact, you could perhaps describe Wesleyan-Arminian theology as one massive theological project attempting to preserve the belief that we humans are free to choose between right and wrong, good and evil.
And then neuroscience comes along.
Now Adrian Raine is not saying that we never make any free choices. But he is saying that we are less free than we have always thought we are. Some people are biologically predisposed to violence and (consequently) others to peace. Some find it easier to lie, cheat, and steal. And a few (those known as psychopaths) feel no guilt whatsoever when engaging in behavior that hurts others. It all depends on biology.
What am I to make of this theologically? How do we incorporate such findings from the field of neurobiology into a doctrine of free will?
Perhaps this is why Christ instructs us never to judge one another. The action of another individual might seem reprehensible to me (and it would be reprehensible if I were the one to do it), but that action might not be as freely chosen by the other individual as I would assume. For example, it is clear from Scripture that bearing false witness is wrong. But what if Bob has a neurological predisposition and enhanced proclivity for lying. It would be easy for me to judge Bob for telling a lie, and I still do think that a lie is wrong. But it might be less wrong for Bob than it would for me (assuming I do not have the same predisposition). This means that our moral judgments on others can be quite inaccurate. I do not know Bob's brain chemistry and therefore I cannot offer a perfectly clear judgment because any fair judgment would take his brain chemistry into account. The question is one of moral culpability. And our human ability to determine culpability is severely limited, if Dr. Raine is right. (Some theologians will undoubtedly reject his theory out of hand since it doesn't fit into their theological framework, but I think that's just plain lazy and dishonest).
I don't know the answer to these questions, but I do know this: it's a good thing God is judge and I am not. His judgments are perfect. I can declare with St. Paul, "How unsearchable are His judgments!" He alone knows my brain chemistry and Bob's brain chemistry and the brain chemistry of everyone on earth... and that means that He alone can judge.
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