Idiot Brain

by Dean Burnett

Much of human culture seems dedicated to ending up in a long-term relationship, or acknowledging that you’re in one (see: Valentine’s Day, weddings, rom-coms, love ballads, the jewelry industry, a decent percentage of all poetry, country music, anniversary cards, the game “Mr. & Mrs.” and so on). Monogamy is not the norm among other primates14 and seems odd when you consider we live much longer than the average ape so could feasibly dabble with many more partners in the available time. If it’s all about “survival of the fittest,” making sure our genes propagate ahead of others, surely it would make more sense to reproduce with as many partners as possible, not stick to one person for our entire lives? But no, that’s exactly what we humans tend to do.

  There are numerous theories as to why humans are seemingly compelled to form monogamous romantic relationships, involving biology, culture, environment and evolution. Some argue that monogamous relationships result in two parents caring for offspring rather than one, so said offspring have greater chance of survival.15 Others say it’s due to more cultural influences, such as religion and class systems wanting to keep wealth and influence within the same narrow familial range (you can’t make sure your family inherits your advantages if you can’t keep track of it).16 Another interesting new theory pins it on the influence of grandmothers acting as child carers, thus favoring the survival of long-term couples (even the most doting grandmother would probably balk at caring for the unfamiliar offspring of her own child’s ex).17

  Whatever the initial cause, humans seem primed to seek out and form monogamous romantic relationships, and this is reflected in a number of weird things the brain does when we end up falling for someone.

  Attraction is governed by many factors. Many species end up developing secondary sex characteristics, which are features that occur during sexual maturity but that aren’t directly involved in the reproductive process, for instance, a moose’s antlers or a peacock’s tail. They’re impressive and show how fit and healthy the individual creature is, but they don’t do much beyond that. Humans are no different. As adults we develop many features that are apparently largely for physically attracting others: the deep voice, enlarged frames and facial hair of men, or the protruding breasts and pronounced curves of women. None of these things are “essential,” but in the distant past some of our ancestors decided that’s what they wanted in a partner, and evolution took over from there. But then we end up with something of a chicken-and-egg scenario with regards to the brain, in that the human brain inherently finds certain features attractive because it has evolved to do so. Which came first, the attraction or the primitive brain’s recognition of it? Hard to say.

  Everyone has his or her own preferences and types, as we all know, but there are general patterns. Some of the things we humans find attractive are predictable, like the physical features alluded to above. Others are attracted to a more cerebral quality, with a person’s wit or personality being the sexiest thing about them. A lot of variation is cultural, with what’s deemed attractive being heavily influenced by things such as the media or what’s considered “different.” Contrast the popularity of false tans in more Western cultures with the huge market for body whitening lotions in many Asian countries. Some things are just bizarre, such as research that suggests people are more attracted to individuals who resemble them,18 which harks back to the brain’s ego bias.

  It’s important, however, to differentiate between a desire for sex, aka lust, and the deeper, more personal romantic attraction and bonding we associate with romance and love, things more often sought and found with long-term relationships. People can (and frequently do) enjoy purely physical sexual interactions with others that they have no real “fondness” for apart from an appreciation for their appearance, and even that’s not essential. Sex is a tricky thing to pin down with the brain as it underlies much of our adult thinking and behavior. But this section isn’t really about lust; we’re talking more about love, in the romantic sense, for one specific individual.

  There’s a lot of evidence to suggest the brain does process these things differently. Studies by Bartels and Zeki suggest that when individuals who describe themselves as in love are shown images of their romantic partners, there is raised activity (not seen in lust or more platonic relationships) in a network of brain regions including the medial insula, anterior cingulate cortex, caudate nucleus and putamen. There was also lower activity in the posterior cingulate gyrus and in the amygdala. The posterior cingulate gyrus is often associated with painful emotion perception, so it makes sense that your loved one’s presence would shut this down a bit. The amygdala processes emotions and memory, but often for negative things such as fear and anger, so again it makes sense that it’s not so active now; people in committed relationships can often seem more relaxed and less bothered about day-to-day annoyances, regularly coming across as “smug” to the independent observer. There’s also diminished activity in regions including the prefrontal cortex, which is responsible for logic and rational decision-making.

  Certain chemicals and transmitters are associated too.‡ Being in love seems to elevate dopamine activity in the reward pathway,20 meaning we experience pleasure in our partner’s presence, almost like a drug (see Chapter 8). And oxytocin is often referred to as “the love hormone” or similar, which is a ridiculous oversimplification of a complex substance, but it does seem to be elevated in people in relationships, and it has been linked to feelings of trust and connection in humans.21

  This just the raw biological stuff that happens in our brains when we fall in love. There are many other things to consider, like the expanded sense of self and achievement that comes from being in a relationship. There’s the immense satisfaction and achievement that comes from having a whole other person value you so highly and want to be in your company in all manner of contexts. Given that most cultures invariably see being in a relationship as a universal goal or achievement (as any happily single person will tell you, usually through gritted teeth), there’s also advanced social standing from being in a couple.

  The flexibility of the brain also means that, in response to all this deep and intense stuff that results from being committed to someone, it adapts to expect it. Our partners become integrated into our long-term plans, goals and ambitions, our predictions and schemas, our general way of thinking about the world. They are, in every sense, a big part of our life.

  And then it ends. Maybe one partner wasn’t being faithful; maybe there’s just not enough compatibility; perhaps one partner’s behavior drove the other away. (Studies have shown that people with more anxious tendencies tend to exaggerate and amplify relationship conflicts, possibly to breaking point.22)

  Consider everything the brain invests in sustaining a relationship, all the changes it undergoes, all the value it places on being in one, all the long-term plans it makes, all the familiar routines it grows to expect. If you remove all this in one fell swoop, the brain is going to be seriously negatively affected by it.

  All the positive sensations it has grown to expect suddenly cease. Our plans for the future and expectations of the world are suddenly no longer valid, which is incredibly distressing for an organ that, as we’ve seen repeatedly, doesn’t deal with uncertainty and ambiguity well at all. (Chapter 8 goes into all of this in more detail.) And there is copious practical uncertainty to deal with if it was a long-term relationship. Where will you live? Will you lose your friends? What about the financial concerns?

  The social element is also quite damaging, considering how much we value our social acceptance and standing. Having to explain to all your friends and family that you “failed” at a relationship is bad enough, but consider the break-up itself; someone who knows you better than anyone, at the most intimate level, has deemed you unacceptable. This is a real kick in the social identity. This is where it hurts.

  That’s a literal comment by the way; studies have shown that a relationship break-up activates the same brain regions that process physical pain.23 There have been
numerous examples throughout this book of the brain processing social concerns in the same way as genuine physical concerns (for example, social fears being just as unnerving as actual physical danger), and this is no different. They say “love hurts,” and, yes, yes it does. Acetaminophen is even sometimes effective for “heartache.”

  Add to this that you have countless memories of that person that were formerly happy but that are now linked with something very negative. This undermines a big part of your sense of self. And, on top of that, the earlier observation that being in love is like a drug comes back to haunt you; you’re used to experiencing something constantly rewarding, and suddenly it’s taken away. In Chapter 8, we’ll see how addiction and withdrawal can be very disruptive and damaging to the brain, and a not dissimilar process is happening here when we experience a sudden break-up with a long-term partner.24

  This isn’t to say the brain doesn’t have the ability to deal with a break-up. It can put everything back together eventually, even if it’s a slow process. Some experiments showed that specifically focusing on the positive outcomes of a break-up can cause more rapid recovery and growth,25 as alluded to earlier in the brain’s bias for preferring to remember “good” things. And, just sometimes, science and clichés match up, and things really do get better with time.26

  But overall, the brain dedicates so much to establishing and sustaining a relationship that it suffers, as do we, when it all comes crashing down. “Breaking up is hard to do” is an understatement.

  People power

  (How the brain reacts to being part of a group)

  What exactly is a “friend”? It’s a question that makes you seem a rather tragic individual if asked aloud. A friend is essentially someone with whom you share a personal bond (that isn’t familial or romantic). However, it’s more complicated because people have many different categories of friends; work friends, school friends, old friends, acquaintances, friends you don’t really like but have known too long to get rid of, and so on. The Internet also now allows “online” friends, as people can form meaningful relationships with like-minded strangers across the planet.

  It’s lucky we have powerful brains, capable of handling all these different relationships. Actually, according to some scientists, this isn’t just a convenient coincidence; we may have big powerful brains because we formed complicated social relationships.

  This is the social brain hypothesis, which argues that complex human brains are a result of human friendliness.27 Many species form large groups, but this doesn’t equal intelligence. Sheep form flocks, but their existence seems to be largely dedicated to eating grass and general fleeing. You don’t need smarts for that.

  Hunting in packs requires more intelligence as it involves coordinated behaviors, so pack hunters such as wolves tend to be smarter than docile-but-numerous prey. Early human communities were substantially more complex again. Some humans hunt, while others stay and look after the young and sick, protect the homestead, forage for food, make tools and so on. This cooperation and division of labor provides a safer environment all round, so the species survives and thrives.

  This arrangement requires humans to care about others who are not biologically linked to them. It goes beyond simple “protect our genes” instincts. Thus, we form friendships, meaning we care about the well-being of others even though our only biological connection is that we’re the same species (and “man’s best friend” shows even this isn’t essential).

  Coordinating all the social relationships required for community life demands a great deal of information processing. If pack hunters are playing tic-tac-toe, human communities are engaged in ongoing chess tournaments. Consequently, powerful brains are needed.

  Human evolution is difficult to study directly, unless you have several hundred thousand years to spare and lots of patience, so it’s hard to determine the accuracy of the social-brain hypothesis. A 2013 Oxford University study claimed to have demonstrated it via sophisticated computer models that showed social relationships do in fact require more processing (and therefore brain) power.28 Interesting, but not conclusive; how do you model friendship on a computer? Humans have a strong tendency to form groups and relationships, and concern for others. Even now, a complete lack of concern or compassion is considered abnormal (psychopathy).

  An inherent tendency to want to belong to a group can be useful for survival, but it also throws up some surreal and bizarre results. For example, being part of a group can override our judgement, even our senses.

  Everyone knows about peer pressure, where you do or say things not because you agree but because the group you belong to wants you to, like claiming to like a band you detest because the “cool” kids like them, or spending hours discussing the merits of a film your friends loved but that you found agonizingly dull. This is a scientifically recognized occurrence, known as normative social influence, which is what happens when your brain goes to the effort of forming a conclusion or opinion about something, only to abandon it if the group you identify with disagrees. Worryingly often, our brains prioritize “being liked” over “being right.”

  This has been demonstrated in scientific settings. A 1951 study by Solomon Asch put subjects in small groups and asked them very basic questions; for instance, showing them three different lines and asking, “Which is longest?”29 It might surprise you to hear that most participants gave completely the wrong answer. It didn’t surprise the researchers though, because only one person in each group was a “real” subject; the rest were stooges instructed to give the wrong answer. The genuine subjects had to give their answers last, when everyone else had given theirs aloud. And 75 percent of the time, the subjects gave the wrong answer too.

  When asked why they gave a clearly wrong answer, most said they didn’t want to “rock the boat” or similar sentiments. They didn’t “know” the other group members at all outside the experiment, and yet they wanted the approval of their new peers, enough to deny their own senses. Being part of a group is apparently something our brains prioritize.

  It’s not absolute. Although 75 percent of subjects agreed with the group’s wrong answer, 25 percent didn’t. We may be heavily influenced by our group but our own backgrounds and personalities are often equally potent, and groups are composed of different types of individuals, not submissive drones. You do get people who are happy to say things almost everyone around them will object to. You can make millions doing this on televised talent shows.

  Normative social influence can be described as behavioral in nature; we act as if we agree with the group, even if we don’t. The people around us can’t dictate how we think though, surely?

  Often, this is true. If all your friends and family suddenly insisted 2 + 2 = 7, or that gravity pushes you up, you still wouldn’t agree. You might worry that everyone you care about has completely lost it, but you wouldn’t agree, because your own senses and understanding show that they’re wrong. But here the truth is blatant. In more ambiguous situations, other people can indeed impact on our thought processes.

  This is informational social influence, where other people are used by our brains as a reliable source of information (however wrongly) when figuring out uncertain scenarios. This may explain why anecdotal evidence can be so persuasive. Finding accurate data about a complex subject is hard work, but if you heard it from a guy in a bar, or from your friend’s mother’s cousin who knows about it, then this is often sufficient evidence. Alternative medicine and conspiracy theories persist thanks to this.

  It’s perhaps predictable. For a developing brain, the main source of information is other people. Mimicry and imitation are fundamental processes whereby children learn, and for many years now neuroscientists have been excited about “mirror neurons,” neurons that activate both when we perform a specific action and when we observe that action from someone else, suggesting the brain recognizes and processes the behavior of others at a fundamental level. (Mirror neurons and their properties are something of a co
ntroversial issue in neuroscience, so don’t take any of this for granted.30)

  Our brains prefer to use other people as a go-to reference for information in uncertain scenarios. The human brain evolved over millions of years, and our fellow humans have been around a lot longer than Google. You can see how this would be useful; you hear a loud noise and think it might be an enraged mammoth, but everyone else in your tribe is running away screaming, so they probably know it is an enraged mammoth, and you’d better follow suit. But there are times when basing your decisions and actions on other people’s can have dark and unpleasant consequences.

  In 1964, New York resident Kitty Genovese was brutally murdered. While tragic in itself, this particular crime became infamous because reports revealed that 38 people witnessed the attack but did nothing to help or intervene. This shocking behavior prompted social psychologists Darley and Latané to investigate it, leading to the discovery of the phenomenon known as the “bystander effect,”§ which is where people are unlikely to intervene or offer assistance if there are others around.31 This isn’t (always) due to selfishness or cowardice but because we refer to other people to determine our actions when we aren’t certain what to do. There are plenty of people who get involved where needed, but if others are around the bystander effect presents a psychological obstacle that must be overcome.

  The bystander effect acts to suppress our actions and decisions; it stops us doing something because we’re in a group. Being part of a group can also cause us to think and do things we’d never do when alone.

  Being in a group invariably makes people desire group harmony. A fractious or argumentative group isn’t useful and is unpleasant to be part of, so overall agreement and accord is usually something everyone wants to achieve. If conditions are right, this desire for harmony can be so compelling that people will end up thinking or agreeing with things that they’d usually consider irrational or unwise just to achieve it. When the good of the group takes precedence over logical or reasonable decisions, this is known as groupthink.32