Evers starts out their description of the naturalistic responsibility to become epigenetically proactive with a reference to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. She criticises that, understood as a description of the present world, it is false to assume that all humans are born free and equal in dignity and rights; and if we understood this as a normative ideal, it would be unrealistic to guarantee these rights for every human being, given our present cerebral structure. In contrast to the human rights ideal, many people suffer from poverty and insufficient health care, and live through serious conflicts. Most people lack the sympathy necessary to respect the rights of others and all humans exhibit some kind of xenophobia. In the end, Evers even refers to the idea that humans might be subject to some built-in error or deficiency, predisposing us to self-destruction. Against this background, she proposes her epigenetic proactivism as follows:
Synaptic epigenetic theories of cultural and social imprinting on our brain architecture open the door to being epigenetically proactive, which means that we may culturally influence our brain organisation in the aim of self-improvement, individually as well as socially and change our biological predispositions by a better fit of our brain to cultures and social structures. (Evers this collection, p. 12)
She discusses two examples in more detail, namely violence in adolescents and violent interconfessional conflicts. Referring to neurodevelopmental research on children and teenagers’ brains, she suggests that different educational measures such as physical exercises, cultural games, and new therapies amount to a kind of proactive epigenetic imprinting that increases control of aggression, emotion regulation, sympathy, and tolerance. It would be largely a matter of political will and social agreement, Evers claims, to develop the research enabling such educational programs and to apply them in practice. If successful, epigenetic proactivism would make societies more peaceful and inclusive, but the author also points to a problematic circularity, namely that we perhaps first need to live in an already peaceful society in order to enact such educational programs to maintain peace.
If we had to choose between epigenetic proactivism and the destruction of humankind, the decision would probably be easy; and the humbler prospect of avoiding adolescent violence and interconfessional conflicts also has some seductive allure. However, for three reasons I hesitate to agree with the conclusion that we have a naturalistic responsibility to improve ourselves epigenetically, assuming that science will develop enough at some point and offer the novel educational measures suggested by Evers: first, decreasing the disposition towards aggressive behaviour and increasing sympathy might have unexpected psychological side-effects; second, the value of human autonomy has to be considered by epigenetic proactivists, too; and third, the human condition might not be as bad as the author describes. I will discuss these three caveats in the following sections.
At first glance, who would disagree that a world with less aggression and more sympathy would be a better world? If we could indeed decrease adolescent and interconfessional violence, why shouldn’t we put such an educational program into action? Evers refers to Darwin and evolution several times in her paper. Consequently, this biological framing also raises the question of the possible evolutionary value of aggression and violence (Eibleibesfeldt 1977; Smith & Harper 1988). Darwin’s original idea of the survival of the fittest emphasises the very notion of securing access to scarce resources—often at the cost of other living beings, which may even lead to the extinction of a whole species. It may well be that aggression is an essential driver of evolutionary development.
It goes without saying that from the fact that something leads to an increased survival value it does not follow that it is morally good. But it is clear that, even from a social perspective, aggression might have a function, or might be necessary for achieving some desirable ends. In the famous novel A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess, we learn about a fictional case where a cruel and ruthless juvenile delinquent—Alex—is successfully treated bio-psychologically to stop being violent. This is carried out in a pharmacologically enhanced operant conditioning program that associates scenes of violence with aversive stimuli, such that the former delinquent feels severe nausea whenever he is confronted with aggression, including assaults against himself. This has the side effect that after the treatment Alex cannot defend himself anymore and he therefore becomes a victim of severe humiliation.
While this example is different from the case of interconfessional violence discussed by Evers, it is directly related to her other example of violence in adolescents. It is a complex bio-psychological question whether negative facets of aggression can be extinguished without also affecting people’s capacity for self-defence. The author is aware of the problem of circularity, that a world may first have to become peaceful for epigenetic proactivism to be successful—and the present caveat emphasises this dilemma: if only some people were educated to avoid violence and conflicts, this could easily be abused by others.
How about increasing sympathy, then? Evers is critical about the fact that people are xenophobic and restrict their sympathy to small groups, while they should ideally extend it to human society at large. As disappointing as it may be from an ethical point of view, it could well be that a distinction between one’s own or one’s group’s welfare from that of others is essential for psychological wellbeing. A dysfunctional self–other distinction, drawing a clear line between oneself and others, may play a role in schizophrenia (Decety & Sommerville 2003; Jardri et al. 2011). Furthermore, several investigations reported an association between emotional empathy and depression or decreased life-satisfaction (Gawronski & Privette 1997; Lee et al. 2001; O'Connor et al. 2002).
These links with mental health may be speculative to some extent, yet they illustrate that even a prima facie positive capacity may become negative when increased too much. Accordingly, it has become common wisdom within psychopharmacology that there is an optimal level of neurotransmitter concentration in the brain and that both a decrease and an increase may be dysfunctional and/or lead to unexpected side-effects (Wood et al. 2014). Even if ethicists, in line with Evers, presented strong arguments in favour of considering the welfare of those far away from oneself or one’s group (Greene 2003; Sidgwick 1907; Singer 2002; Unger 1996), it should be born in mind that an increase of sympathy might lead to a decrease in subjective wellbeing.
The vision of a scientifically enhanced world, where people are better at controlling their emotions, particularly aggression and other impulses that might lead to violent behaviour, is a recurrent topic in the history of science. For example, in the 1960s and 1970s, neuroscientists, psychologists, and sociologists all discussed the problem of delinquency and aggression, also with respect to adolescents, and proposed different solutions for coping with it. The pioneer of brain stimulation, José Delgado, tested the effects of electrical inhibition or excitation of different brain areas associated with emotion processing, such as the amygdalae, in several animal species as well as in humans (Delgado 1965, 1971; Delgado et al. 1968). His discussion of the social implications of such technology is surprisingly reminiscent of epigenetic proactivism:
Understanding of biology, physics, and other sciences facilitated the process of ecological liberation and domination. Man rebelled from natural determination and used his intelligence and skills to impose a human purpose on the development of the earth. We are now on the verge of a process of mental liberation and self-domination which is a continuation of our evolution. Its experimental approach is based on the investigation of the depth of the brain in behaving subjects. Its practical applications do not rely on direct cerebral manipulations but on the integration of neurophysiological and psychological principles leading to a more intelligent education, starting from the moment of birth and continuing throughout life, with the pre-conceived plan of escaping from the blind forces of chance and of influencing cerebral mechanisms and mental structure in order to create a future man with greater personal freedom and originality, a member of a psychocivilized society, happier, less destructive, and better balanced than present man. (Delgado 1971, p. 223; reference omitted)
He and others (e.g., Mark & Ervin 1970; Valenstein 1973) were convinced that therapeutic need would drive the development of such neurotechnology. The envisioned “psychocivilized” world would be so beneficial for individuals and society at large, Delgado believed, that the advantages overruled any social and ethical caveats (Delgado 1971). At the same time, the psychologist Burrhus Skinner wrote a best-selling book on his vision of a peaceful society realised through social engineering and inspired by behaviourism rather than neurotechnology (Skinner 1971). Through rewarding the right kind of actions, Skinner suggested, the socially desired behaviour would become more likely, and the undesired behaviour more unlikely. To avoid a totalitarian regime, the people subject to this social engineering should in turn control the reward structures, the so-called contingencies of a society. Yet, in spite of the book’s popularity, it was strongly criticised by Noam Chomsky for confusing science and politics and for a misapplication of central notions such as freedom and dignity (1971).
The two utopian proposals by Delgado and Skinner, the part of the human enhancement debate discussed above that describes a need for adaptation as without alternative, and epigenetic proactivism have in common that people should be changed in such a way that they contribute to a (putatively) desired social aim: a macroscopic state with better performance, competitiveness, peacefulness, and/or caring for others. This is in obvious conflict with the notion of autonomy that is so fundamental to Immanuel Kant’s moral philosophy: no human being must be treated only as a means to another end; all humans must also be treated as an ends in themselves (1785/1994). Given the description of epigenetic proactivism by Evers, stating that our brains shall fit better to our cultures and social structures, one may well ask whether those enhanced in this manner would not become mere instruments for the present system, with its social norms and values. Also with respect to John Stuart Mill’s utilitarian liberalism, interventions to improve people seem problematic, as Mill formulated the principle:
[…] that the sole end for which mankind are warranted, individually or collectively, in interfering with the liberty of action of any of their number, is self-protection. That the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilised community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others. His own good, either physical or moral, is not a sufficient warrant. He cannot rightfully be compelled to do or forbear because it will be better for him to do so, because it will make him happier, because, in the opinions of others, to do so would be wise, or even right. These are good reasons for remonstrating with him, or reasoning with him, or persuading him, or entreating him, but not for compelling him, or visiting him with any evil in case he do otherwise. […] Over himself, over his own body and mind, the individual is sovereign. (1859/1989, pp. 17–18)
Interestingly, Mill explicitly formulated the exception of self-protection and harm to others, to which Evers refers in her paper as well. However, I doubt that epigenetic proactivists can base their ethical justification on this case, as the harm they want to avoid is very indirectly related to intervention—which will most likely be applied to many people who would not have posed a threat to others without it. Furthermore, it can be doubted how imminent the danger is at all; this last point will be elaborated in the next subsection. Although other and more recent versions of “utilitarianism”, such as preference utilitarianism, place less emphasis on autonomy than Kant or Mill, they also lend the inner core of a person, for example, her or his preferences and values, a status of special protection (Singer 2011). This core is likely to be affected by changing people’s predisposition to aggression and sympathy, as the brief description of psychological side-effects in the previous subsection suggests.
Therefore, the essential question for epigenetic proactivism seems to be whether people can autonomously consent to the intervention. Evers’s title asks whether we can be epigenetically proactive; I have reformulated this to ask whether we should be epigenetically proactive. Here it is particularly relevant that her two examples, adolescent and interconfessional violence, explicitly address the development of children and teenager’s brains—that is, people whom we do not usually consider to be (fully) autonomous. The question of whether parents can take this decision, aimed at rewiring the nervous system of their children for a social aim, is too complex to be discussed here, but it calls for a solution before we can really think about putting epigenetic proactivism into practice.
For our present purposes it shall suffice to suggest that it is unlikely that all parents would consent to such a measure. What would then happen to those who declined to participate in epigenetically proactive educational programs? Even today, some families resist education because they see a conflict between their values and teaching on, for example, sex education or evolutionary theory. In particular, those who benefit from the present social order would be unlikely to consent to a measure that might lead to a loss of power for them. As mentioned earlier, this may make those who are made less aggressive and more empathic more likely to be exploited by those who are not. Therefore, it is an essential challenge for epigenetic proactivism to take autonomy, informed consent, and the further complexities of intervening in the core of a person’s personality into account—and to consider that people’s views on these issues will be diverse!
Until these challenges of autonomy and informed consent in particular are met, I draw the tentative conclusion that we should not be epigenetically proactive. It should be noted, though, that while I am discussing the proposal by Evers here, the argument from autonomy is independent of the means actually used to enhance people—whether biological, psychological, or social. Rather, it is essential that people are free from coercion and can decide for themselves whether or not they want to become the kind of human being envisioned by proponents in the human enhancement debate, and that they have sufficient knowledge on the implications of that choice. Evers particularly focusses on children and adolescents when discussing examples of epigenetic proactivism, but it appears to be most difficult to describe what autonomous and informed choice means in precisely this group of human beings.
Evers emphasises that many people live in precarious circumstances, even more than sixty years after the Universal Declaration of Human Rights; in the end, she even refers to Arthur Koestler’s idea that humans might have some built-in deficiency, predisposing us to self-destruction. Obviously, against that prospect, the promises of epigenetic proactivism look seductive. Indeed, we must concede that even some twenty-five years after the Cold War international conflicts have not abated altogether—in some areas they have even multiplied, and terrorism or economic instability are a concern for many. However, from the perspective of cultural evolution, universal human rights are a rather novel development and it may be too early to take a pessimistic stance on their success and effect. Returning to the UN World Happiness Report (Helliwell et al. 2013), one may ask whether the difference between the leading countries—Denmark, Norway, Switzerland, the Netherlands, and Sweden (ranked 1st to 5th)—, those in the middle—Libya, Bahrain, Montenegro, Pakistan, and Nigeria (ranked 78th to 82nd)—, and those at the bottom—Rwanda, Burundi, the Central African Republic, Benin, and Togo (ranked 152nd to 156th)—can be explained or even overcome by means of human enhancement like epigenetic proactivism rather than internationally-aided institutional development.
One shared rhetorical feature of those visions of a better humankind is a claim that all has somehow gone wrong, and even to predict an imminent catastrophe. For example, the various Humanist Manifestos of the 20th and early 21st century described serious threats to human survival.[2] Delgado emphasized an imbalance between our material and mental evolution, putting humanity at risk (1971), and Skinner started out by referring to problems related to population growth, pollution of the environment, and nuclear armament (1971). It probably lies in the eye of the beholder to speculate whether humankind has not yet destroyed itself because or in spite of unprecedented technological powers.
It is a matter of fact that we have not yet done so, and although many things have gone wrong, others have gone right. Steven Pinker recently gathered evidence that, particularly when viewed in relation to the vast population growth of humanity, our present times are much more peaceful than the past (2011). He describes processes of pacification and civilization as well as a humanitarian and rights revolution that can provide hope that things will change for the better, not only for the worse. Therefore, even if human enhancement in general or epigenetic proactivism in particular may offer genuine improvement of the human condition in several ways, they are probably not necessary for human survival.