Who Do You Think You Are?

A couple of experiences collided this month to produce the subject I want to write about today; human identity. The first one was, I went to see the movie, "Lucy." For those who haven't seen it, Lucy is about a woman (Scarlett Johansson, who plays the role with piercing eyes and a bit of a curious tic) who, because of a drug overdose, gains access to 100% of her brain, as opposed to the 10% the rest of us are using (This idea that we only use 10% of our brain is, in fact, a myth, but I'm going to let that slide for the moment; the movie is, after all, science fiction) In the film, the more access to her brain she gets, the more ruthless and impervious to pain and human emotion she becomes. As I was watching, I couldn't help wondering where the filmakers got the idea that having a higher functioning brain would produce a crueler, less empathetic person. Brain research over the last decade seems to show that humans are hard-wired for empathy, that it may in fact be crucial to our survival as a species. Because of our empathy, we were able to form cohesive groups ("Let's all work together to kill that mastedon!"), live together in communities, develop laws and social contracts that enabled industry, the rise of cities, etc. Empathy is considered a higher-order brain skill; it takes a lot of brain energy to develop and use it. Some people think it is our empathy that will allow us to solve the problems we face in the next century, global warming, pollution, etc. So if you were using more of your brain, wouldn't you become more empathetic, more attuned to the feelings of others, not less? If you could see inside the mind and body of others, wouldn't you identify with them more, want to help them more, not want to cause them pain? I really wanted to see an alternative "Lucy," one where the protagonist used her super-brain to bond with people. changed their brain chemistry to make them kinder and more loving, disarmed them by making them uninterested in weapons. A big hug-a-thon.

The second thing that piqued my interest was a piece on Radiolab, a public radio show on scienc-y things, on identity. Paul Brok, a British neurologist, was saying, since identity is wrapped up in our neural interactions, we are all one accident away from becoming someone totally different. The reason you are who you are and I am who I am, is just a story we tell ourselves about who we are., a construct, a decision. So if we want to be kinder or happier or bolder or more forgiving, we just tell ourselves that story, and we become that thing. Cool, huh? So we could be the super-utilzed, super-empathetic Lucy 2.0 in my alternative movie, we just have to decide that we are.