"Sweeping, erudite, sharply argued, and fun to read..also highly persuasive." --Time
Now updated with a new afterword
One of the world's leading experts on language and the mind explores the idea of human nature and its moral, emotional, and political colorings. With characteristic wit, lucidity, and insight, Pinker argues that the dogma that the mind has no innate traits-a doctrine held by many intellectuals during the past century-denies our common humanity and our individual preferences, replaces objective analyses of social problems with feel-good slogans, and distorts our understanding of politics, violence, parenting, and the arts. Injecting calm and rationality into debates that are notorious for ax-grinding and mud-slinging, Pinker shows the importance of an honest acknowledgment of human nature based on science and common sense.
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About the Author
Date of Birth:September 18, 1954
Place of Birth:Montreal, Canada
Education:B.A., McGill University, 1976; Ph.D., Harvard University, 1979
Read an Excerpt
Everyone has a theory of human nature. Everyone has to anticipate the behavior of others, and that means we all need theories about what makes people tick. A tacit theory of human nature—that behavior is caused by thoughts and feelings—is embedded in the very way we think about people. We fill out this theory by introspecting on our own minds and assuming that our fellows are like ourselves, and by watching people's behavior and filing away generalizations. We absorb still other ideas from our intellectual climate: from the expertise of authorities and the conventional wisdom of the day.
Our theory of human nature is the wellspring of much in our lives. We consult it when we want to persuade or threaten, inform or deceive. It advises us on how to nurture our marriages, bring up our children, and control our own behavior. Its assumptions about learning drive our educational policy; its assumptions about motivation drive our policies on economics, law, and crime. And because it delineates what people can achieve easily, what they can achieve only with sacrifice or pain, and what they cannot achieve at all, it affects our values: what we believe we can reasonably strive for as individuals and as a society. Rival theories of human nature are entwined in different ways of life and different political systems, and have been a source of much conflict over the course of history.
For millennia, the major theories of human nature have come from religion. The Judeo-Christian tradition, for example, offers explanations for much of the subject matter now studied by biology and psychology. Humans are made in the image of God and are unrelated to animals. Women are derivative of men and destined to be ruled by them. The mind is an immaterial substance: it has powers possessed by no purely physical structure, and can continue to exist when the body dies. The mind is made up of several components, including a moral sense, an ability to love, a capacity for reason that recognizes whether an act conforms to ideals of goodness, and a decision faculty that chooses how to behave. Although the decision faculty is not bound by the laws of cause and effect, it has an innate tendency to choose sin. Our cognitive and perceptual faculties work accurately because God implanted ideals in them that correspond to reality and because he coordinates their functioning with the outside world. Mental health comes from recognizing God's purpose, choosing good and repenting sin, and loving God and one's fellow humans for God's sake.
The Judeo-Christian theory is based on events narrated in the Bible. We know that the human mind has nothing in common with the minds of animals because the Bible says that humans were created separately. We know that the design of women is based on the design of men because in the second telling of the creation of women Eve was fashioned from the rib of Adam. Human decisions cannot be the inevitable effects of some cause, we may surmise, because God held Adam and Eve responsible for eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge, implying that they could have chosen otherwise. Women are dominated by men as punishment for Eve's disobedience, and men and women inherit the sinfulness of the first couple.
The Judeo-Christian conception is still the most popular theory of human nature in the United States. According to recent polls, 76 percent of Americans believe in the biblical account of creation, 79 percent believe that the miracles in the Bible actually took place, 76 percent believe in angels, the devil, and other immaterial souls, 67 percent believe they will exist in some form after their death, and only 15 percent believe that Darwin's theory of evolution is the best explanation for the origin of human life on Earth. Politicians on the right embrace the religious theory explicitly, and no mainstream politician would dare contradict it in public. But the modern sciences of cosmology, geology, biology, and archaeology have made it impossible for a scientifically literate person to believe that the biblical story of creation actually took place. As a result, the Judeo-Christian theory of human nature is no longer explicitly avowed by most academics, journalists, social analysts, and other intellectually engaged people.
Nonetheless, every society must operate with a theory of human nature, and our intellectual mainstream is committed to another one. The theory is seldom articulated or overtly embraced, but it lies at the heart of a vast number of beliefs and policies. Bertrand Russell wrote, "Every man, wherever he goes, is encompassed by a cloud of comforting convictions, which move with him like flies on a summer day." For intellectuals today, many of those convictions are about psychology and social relations. I will refer to those convictions as the Blank Slate: the idea that the human mind has no inherent structure and can be inscribed at will by society or ourselves.
That theory of human nature—namely, that it barely exists—is the topic of this book. Just as religions contain a theory of human nature, so theories of human nature take on some of the functions of religion, and the Blank Slate has become the secular religion of modern intellectual life. It is seen as a source of values, so the fact that it is based on a miracle—a complex mind arising out of nothing—is not held against it. Challenges to the doctrine from skeptics and scientists have plunged some believers into a crisis of faith and have led others to mount the kinds of bitter attacks ordinarily aimed at heretics and infidels. And just as many religious traditions eventually reconciled themselves to apparent threats from science (such as the revolutions of Copernicus and Darwin), so, I argue, will our values survive the demise of the Blank Slate.
The chapters in this part of the book (Part I) are about the ascendance of the Blank Slate in modern intellectual life, and about the new view of human nature and culture that is beginning to challenge it. In succeeding parts we will witness the anxiety evoked by this challenge (Part II) and see how the anxiety may be assuaged (Part III). Then I will show how a richer conception of human nature can provide insight into language, thought, social life, and morality (Part IV) and how it can clarify controversies on politics, violence, gender, childrearing, and the arts (Part V). Finally I will show how the passing of the Blank Slate is less disquieting, and in some ways less revolutionary, than it first appears (Part VI).
The Official Theory
"Blank slate" is a loose translation of the medieval Latin term tabula rasa—literally, "scraped tablet." It is commonly attributed to the philosopher John Locke (1632-1704), though in fact he used a different metaphor. Here is the famous passage from An Essay Concerning Human Understanding:
Let us then suppose the mind to be, as we say, white paper void of all characters, without any ideas. How comes it to be furnished? Whence comes it by that vast store which the busy and boundless fancy of man has painted on it with an almost endless variety? Whence has it all the materials of reason and knowledge? To this I answer, in one word, from experience.
Locke was taking aim at theories of innate ideas in which people were thought to be born with mathematical ideals, eternal truths, and a notion of God. His alternative theory, empiricism, was intended both as a theory of psychology—how the mind works—and as a theory of epistemology—how we come to know the truth. Both goals helped motivate his political philosophy, often honored as the foundation of liberal democracy. Locke opposed dogmatic justifications for the political status quo, such as the authority of the church and the divine right of kings, which had been touted as self-evident truths. He argued that social arrangements should be reasoned out from scratch and agreed upon by mutual consent, based on knowledge that any person could acquire. Since ideas are grounded in experience, which varies from person to person, differences of opinion arise not because one mind is equipped to grasp the truth and another is defective, but because the two minds have had different histories. Those differences therefore ought to be tolerated rather than suppressed. Locke's notion of a blank slate also undermined a hereditary royalty and aristocracy, whose members could claim no innate wisdom or merit if their minds had started out as blank as everyone else's. It also spoke against the institution of slavery, because slaves could no longer be thought of as innately inferior or subservient.
During the past century the doctrine of the Blank Slate has set the agenda for much of the social sciences and humanities. As we shall see, psychology has sought to explain all thought, feeling, and behavior with a few simple mechanisms of learning. The social sciences have sought to explain all customs and social arrangements as a product of the socialization of children by the surrounding culture: a system of words, images, stereotypes, role models, and contingencies of reward and punishment. A long and growing list of concepts that would seem natural to the human way of thinking (emotions, kinship, the sexes, illness, nature, the world) are now said to have been "invented" or "socially constructed."
The Blank Slate has also served as a sacred scripture for political and ethical beliefs. According to the doctrine, any differences we see among races, ethnic groups, sexes, and individuals come not from differences in their innate constitution but from differences in their experiences. Change the experiences—by reforming parenting, education, the media, and social rewards—and you can change the person. Underachievement, poverty, and antisocial behavior can be ameliorated; indeed, it is irresponsible not to do so. And discrimination on the basis of purportedly inborn traits of a sex or ethnic group is simply irrational.
The Blank Slate is often accompanied by two other doctrines, which have also attained a sacred status in modern intellectual life. My label for the first of the two is commonly attributed to the philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778), though it really comes from John Dryden's The Conquest of Granada, published in 1670:
I am as free as Nature first made man,
Ere the base laws of servitude began,
When wild in woods the noble savage ran.
The concept of the noble savage was inspired by European colonists' discovery of indigenous peoples in the Americas, Africa, and (later) Oceania. It captures the belief that humans in their natural state are selfless, peaceable, and untroubled, and that blights such as greed, anxiety, and violence are the products of civilization. In 1755 Rousseau wrote:
So many authors have hastily concluded that man is naturally cruel, and requires a regular system of police to be reclaimed; whereas nothing can be more gentle than him in his primitive state, when placed by nature at an equal distance from the stupidity of brutes and the pernicious good sense of civilized man. . . .
The more we reflect on this state, the more convinced we shall be that it was the least subject of any to revolutions, the best for man, and that nothing could have drawn him out of it but some fatal accident, which, for the public good, should never have happened. The example of the savages, most of whom have been found in this condition, seems to confirm that mankind was formed ever to remain in it, that this condition is the real youth of the world, and that all ulterior improvements have been so many steps, in appearance towards the perfection of individuals, but in fact towards the decrepitness of the species.
First among the authors that Rousseau had in mind was Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679), who had presented a very different picture:
Hereby it is manifest, that during the time men live without a common power to keep them all in awe, they are in that condition which is called war; and such a war as is of every man against every man. . . .
In such condition there is no place for industry, because the fruit thereof is uncertain: and consequently no culture of the earth; no navigation, nor use of the commodities that may be imported by sea; no commodious building; no instruments of moving and removing such things as require much force; no knowledge of the face of the earth; no account of time; no arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear, and danger of violent death; and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.
Hobbes believed that people could escape this hellish existence only by surrendering their autonomy to a sovereign person or assembly. He called it a leviathan, the Hebrew word for a monstrous sea creature subdued by Yahweh at the dawn of creation.
Much depends on which of these armchair anthropologists is correct. If people are noble savages, then a domineering leviathan is unnecessary. Indeed, by forcing people to delineate private property for the state to recognize—property they might otherwise have shared—the leviathan creates the very greed and belligerence it is designed to control. A happy society would be our birthright; all we would need to do is eliminate the institutional barriers that keep it from us. If, in contrast, people are naturally nasty, the best we can hope for is an uneasy truce enforced by police and the army. The two theories have implications for private life as well. Every child is born a savage (that is, uncivilized), so if savages are naturally gentle, childrearing is a matter of providing children with opportunities to develop their potential, and evil people are products of a society that has corrupted them. If savages are naturally nasty, then childrearing is an arena of discipline and conflict, and evil people are showing a dark side that was insufficiently tamed.
The actual writings of philosophers are always more complex than the theories they come to symbolize in the textbooks. In reality, the views of Hobbes and Rousseau are not that far apart. Rousseau, like Hobbes, believed (incorrectly) that savages were solitary, without ties of love or loyalty, and without any industry or art (and he may have out-Hobbes'd Hobbes in claiming they did not even have language). Hobbes envisioned—indeed, literally drew—his leviathan as an embodiment of the collective will, which was vested in it by a kind of social contract; Rousseau's most famous work is called The Social Contract, and in it he calls on people to subordinate their interests to a "general will."
Nonetheless, Hobbes and Rousseau limned contrasting pictures of the state of nature that have inspired thinkers in the centuries since. No one can fail to recognize the influence of the doctrine of the Noble Savage in contemporary consciousness. We see it in the current respect for all things natural (natural foods, natural medicines, natural childbirth) and the distrust of the man-made, the unfashionability of authoritarian styles of childrearing and education, and the understanding of social problems as repairable defects in our institutions rather than as tragedies inherent to the human condition.
The other sacred doctrine that often accompanies the Blank Slate is usually attributed to the scientist, mathematician, and philosopher René Descartes (1596-1650):
There is a great difference between mind and body, inasmuch as body is by nature always divisible, and the mind is entirely indivisible. . . . When I consider the mind, that is to say, myself inasmuch as I am only a thinking being, I cannot distinguish in myself any parts, but apprehend myself to be clearly one and entire; and though the whole mind seems to be united to the whole body, yet if a foot, or an arm, or some other part, is separated from the body, I am aware that nothing has been taken from my mind. And the faculties of willing, feeling, conceiving, etc. cannot be properly speaking said to be its parts, for it is one and the same mind which employs itself in willing and in feeling and understanding. But it is quite otherwise with corporeal or extended objects, for there is not one of them imaginable by me which my mind cannot easily divide into parts. . . . This would be sufficient to teach me that the mind or soul of man is entirely different from the body, if I had not already been apprised of it on other grounds.
A memorable name for this doctrine was given three centuries later by a detractor, the philosopher Gilbert Ryle (1900-1976):
There is a doctrine about the nature and place of minds which is so prevalent among theorists and even among laymen that it deserves to be described as the official theory. . . . The official doctrine, which hails chiefly from Descartes, is something like this. With the doubtful exception of idiots and infants in arms every human being has both a body and a mind. Some would prefer to say that every human being is both a body and a mind. His body and his mind are ordinarily harnessed together, but after the death of the body his mind may continue to exist and function. Human bodies are in space and are subject to mechanical laws which govern all other bodies in space. . . . But minds are not in space, nor are their operations subject to mechanical laws. . . .
. . . Such in outline is the official theory. I shall often speak of it, with deliberate abusiveness, as "the dogma of the Ghost in the Machine."
The Ghost in the Machine, like the Noble Savage, arose in part as a reaction to Hobbes. Hobbes had argued that life and mind could be explained in mechanical terms. Light sets our nerves and brain in motion, and that is what it means to see. The motions may persist like the wake of a ship or the vibration of a plucked string, and that is what it means to imagine. "Quantities" get added or subtracted in the brain, and that is what it means to think.
Descartes rejected the idea that the mind could operate by physical principles. He thought that behavior, especially speech, was not caused by anything, but freely chosen. He observed that our consciousness, unlike our bodies and other physical objects, does not feel as if it is divisible into parts or laid out in space. He noted that we cannot doubt the existence of our minds-indeed, we cannot doubt that we are our minds-because the very act of thinking presupposes that our minds exist. But we can doubt the existence of our bodies, because we can imagine ourselves to be immaterial spirits who merely dream or hallucinate that we are incarnate.
Descartes also found a moral bonus in his dualism (the belief that the mind is a different kind of thing from the body): "There is none which is more effectual in leading feeble spirits from the straight path of virtue, than to imagine that the soul of the brute is of the same nature as our own, and that in consequence, after this life we have nothing to fear or to hope for, any more than the flies and the ants." Ryle explains Descartes's dilemma:
When Galileo showed that his methods of scientific discovery were competent to provide a mechanical theory which should cover every occupant of space, Descartes found in himself two conflicting motives. As a man of scientific genius he could not but endorse the claims of mechanics, yet as a religious and moral man he could not accept, as Hobbes accepted, the discouraging rider to those claims, namely that human nature differs only in degree of complexity from clockwork.
It can indeed be upsetting to think of ourselves as glorified gears and springs. Machines are insensate, built to be used, and disposable; humans are sentient, possessing of dignity and rights, and infinitely precious. A machine has some workaday purpose, such as grinding grain or sharpening pencils; a human being has higher purposes, such as love, worship, good works, and the creation of knowledge and beauty. The behavior of machines is determined by the ineluctable laws of physics and chemistry; the behavior of people is freely chosen. With choice comes freedom, and therefore optimism about our possibilities for the future. With choice also comes responsibility, which allows us to hold people accountable for their actions. And of course if the mind is separate from the body, it can continue to exist when the body breaks down, and our thoughts and pleasures will not someday be snuffed out forever.
As I mentioned, most Americans continue to believe in an immortal soul, made of some nonphysical substance, which can part company with the body. But even those who do not avow that belief in so many words still imagine that somehow there must be more to us than electrical and chemical activity in the brain. Choice, dignity, and responsibility are gifts that set off human beings from everything else in the universe, and seem incompatible with the idea that we are mere collections of molecules. Attempts to explain behavior in mechanistic terms are commonly denounced as "reductionist" or "determinist." The denouncers rarely know exactly what they mean by those words, but everyone knows they refer to something bad. The dichotomy between mind and body also pervades everyday speech, as when we say "Use your head," when we refer to "out-of-body experiences," and when we speak of "John's body," or for that matter "John's brain," which presupposes an owner, John, that is somehow separate from the brain it owns. Journalists sometimes speculate about "brain transplants" when they really should be calling them "body transplants," because, as the philosopher Dan Dennett has noted, this is the one transplant operation in which it is better to be the donor than the recipient.
The doctrines of the Blank Slate, the Noble Savage, and the Ghost in the Machine—or, as philosophers call them, empiricism, romanticism, and dualism—are logically independent, but in practice they are often found together. If the slate is blank, then strictly speaking it has neither injunctions to do good nor injunctions to do evil. But good and evil are asymmetrical: there are more ways to harm people than to help them, and harmful acts can hurt them to a greater degree than virtuous acts can make them better off. So a blank slate, compared with one filled with motives, is bound to impress us more by its inability to do harm than by its inability to do good. Rousseau did not literally believe in a blank slate, but he did believe that bad behavior is a product of learning and socialization. "Men are wicked," he wrote; "a sad and constant experience makes proof unnecessary." But this wickedness comes from society: "There is no original perversity in the human heart. There is not a single vice to be found in it of which it cannot be said how and whence it entered." If the metaphors in everyday speech are a clue, then all of us, like Rousseau, associate blankness with virtue rather than with nothingness. Think of the moral connotations of the adjectives clean, fair, immaculate, lily-white, pure, spotless, unmarred, and unsullied, and of the nouns blemish, blot, mark, stain, and taint.
The Blank Slate naturally coexists with the Ghost in the Machine, too, since a slate that is blank is a hospitable place for a ghost to haunt. If a ghost is to be at the controls, the factory can ship the device with a minimum of parts. The ghost can read the body's display panels and pull its levers, with no need for a high-tech executive program, guidance system, or CPU. The more not-clockwork there is controlling behavior, the less clockwork we need to posit. For similar reasons, the Ghost in the Machine happily accompanies the Noble Savage. If the machine behaves ignobly, we can blame the ghost, which freely chose to carry out the iniquitous acts; we need not probe for a defect in the machine's design.
Philosophy today gets no respect. Many scientists use the term as a synonym for effete speculation. When my colleague Ned Block told his father that he would major in the subject, his father's reply was "Luft!"—Yiddish for "air." And then there's the joke in which a young man told his mother he would become a Doctor of Philosophy and she said, "Wonderful! But what kind of disease is philosophy?"
But far from being idle or airy, the ideas of philosophers can have repercussions for centuries. The Blank Slate and its companion doctrines have infiltrated the conventional wisdom of our civilization and have repeatedly surfaced in unexpected places. William Godwin (1756-1835), one of the founders of liberal political philosophy, wrote that "children are a sort of raw material put into our hands," their minds "like a sheet of white paper." More sinisterly, we find Mao Zedong justifying his radical social engineering by saying, "It is on a blank page that the most beautiful poems are written." Even Walt Disney was inspired by the metaphor. "I think of a child's mind as a blank book," he wrote. "During the first years of his life, much will be written on the pages. The quality of that writing will affect his life profoundly."
Locke could not have imagined that his words would someday lead to Bambi (intended by Disney to teach self-reliance); nor could Rousseau have anticipated Pocahontas, the ultimate noble savage. Indeed, the soul of Rousseau seems to have been channeled by the writer of a recent Thanksgiving op-ed piece in the Boston Globe:
I would submit that the world native Americans knew was more stable, happier, and less barbaric than our society today. . . . there were no employment problems, community harmony was strong, substance abuse unknown, crime nearly nonexistent. What warfare there was between tribes was largely ritualistic and seldom resulted in indiscriminate or wholesale slaughter. While there were hard times, life was, for the most part, stable and predictable. . . . Because the native people respected what was around them, there was no loss of water or food resources because of pollution or extinction, no lack of materials for the daily essentials, such as baskets, canoes, shelter, or firewood.
Table of ContentsPreface
Part 1: The Blank Slate, the Noble Savage, and the Ghost in the Machine
Chapter 1: The Official Theory
Chapter 2: Silly Putty
Chapter 3: The Last Wall to Fall
Chapter 4: Culture Vultures
Chapter 5: The Slate's Last Stand
Part II: Fear and Loathing
Chapter 6: Political Scientists
Chapter 7: The Holy Trinity
Part III: Human Nature with a Human Face
Chapter 8: The Fear of Inequality
Chapter 9: The Fear on Imperfectibility
Chapter 10: The Fear of Determinism
Chapter 11: The Fear of Nihilism
Part IV: Know Thyself
Chapter 12: In Touch with Reality
Chapter 13: Out of Our Depths
Chapter 14: The Many Roots of Our Suffering
Chapter 15: The Sanctimonious Animal
Part V: Hot Buttons
Chapter 16: Politics
Chapter 17: Violence
Chapter 18: Gender
Chapter 19: Children
Chapter 20: The Arts
Part VI: The Voice of the Species
Appendix: Donald E. Brown's List of Human Universals
What People are Saying About This
"Steven Pinker has written an extremely good book-clear, well argued, fair, learned, tough, witty, humane, stimulating." (The Washington Post)
"Sweeping, erudite, sharply argued, and fun to read. It's also highly persuasive." (Time)
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
A book as ambitious and comprehensive as Steven Pinker¿s ¿The Blank Slate¿ deserves an extensive review. This is only an attempt to suggest some of its impressive scope and excellence. The title would be more descriptive if it were simply ¿Human Nature¿. The ¿blank slate¿ is merely one of three fallacious myths which, Pinker shows, obscure the true understanding of human nature that evolutionary biology affords. (Pinker is one of a trio of modern philosopher- scientists, along with Richard Dawkins and Daniel C. Dennett, who eloquently examine the full implications of Darwinism for society). The ¿blank slate¿ is the notion that every aspect of human behavior is the product of experience, including socialization and education. A corollary is that the human mind is infinitely malleable. The ¿noble savage¿ is the belief that primitive people untouched by civilization are naturally peaceful and virtuous, that violence, greed and the host of other evils are in no way inherent in man but are the product only of corrupt society. The ¿ghost in the machine¿ is the conviction that science, such as biology and its branches, is inadequate to explain the operation of the human mind¿that the mechanistic approach to comprehending consciousness profoundly diminishes and demeans the human condition, and therefore supernatural explanations must be invoked. Pinker¿s achievement is to demolish these fallacies with clarity and temperateness. For me, this book is the most awesomely lucid and intelligent explication I have ever read of a thesis which touches on such an enormous range of contentious issues. What does science, free of the wishful thinking, misunderstanding, superstition, and error represented by the three fallacies allow us to comprehend about racism, human aggression, politics, international relations, language, abortion, world trade, love & sex, gender, child-rearing, and the arts? That Pinker had the audacity or courage to take on all these ¿hot button¿ issues is not the most impressive fact about this book what is most stunning is that he meets the challenge by having important insights to share in all these matters, and more. For instance, his discussion of the ¿gender gap¿ is the most thorough, cogent, and constructive that I have seen. All these weighty matters are not merely personal opinions of the author. His erudition is evident. He cites examples, case studies, quotations from sources as different as Calvin & Hobbes cartoons and René Descartes. His notes run over 19 pages of fine print. His references take up 29 pages of the same fine print. And yet, though his subject matter could not be more serious, Pinker wields a witty and lively pen.The thinking is deep, but its expression is as clear and refreshing as spring water. Here he is on genetics: ¿...all this talk about genes that influence behavior does not mean that we are cuckoo clocks or player pianos, mindlessly executing the dictates of DNA. The genes in question are those that endow us with the neural systems of conscience, deliberation, and will, and when we talk about the selection of such genes, we are talking about the various ways those faculties could have evolved.¿ A thoughtful reading of ¿The Blank Slate¿ could not only evaporate the fallacies that have misled and confused so many, including some scientists, but it should allay fears that Darwinism, evolutionary biology, and genetics are somehow dehumanizing, for Pinker shows that they are truly humanizing in the deepest sense.
Steven Pinker, in The Blank Slate, attempts to debunk three linked but separable dogmas: that the human mind has no innate traits but can be treated as if it were a blank slate to be written upon by parents and society, that human beings in a precivilized state of nature are good but these noble savages are corrupted by civilization, and that the human mind (or soul - the Ghost in the Machine) exists apart from the body and is able to make choices free from biologic control. Pinker proposes instead that we naked apes have inherited our current mental abilities through natural processes that govern all life on this planet and mostly have arisen through the inexorable process of Darwinian selection. In doing so, Pinker addresses the core question of philosophy: what does it mean to be human? Biologists recognize four agents of evolution: Darwinian selection, mutation, gene drift and gene flow. But there is a fifth method for perpetuating biological genetic information, overlooked by many contemporary biologists, including Pinker. Perhaps 5000 to 10000 generations ago, a catastrophe of earth-shaking proportions occurred. Somewhere in Africa, a female naked ape gave birth to the world's first psychopath. Unlike other members of his species, at some stage in his growth to adulthood he became self-aware. This first psychopath passed on to his progeny whatever biological characteristics that had enabled him to become self-aware. But this itself was not a catastrophe. One of his descendants became aware that not only was she self-aware, but that others of her kind were also self-aware. This was the catastrophe. This awareness of the awareness of others helped her offspring to organize their affairs in such a way as to out-reproduce their psychopathic kin and their non-self-aware brethren. They spread like a plague upon the planet. Mutually self-aware beings possess a fifth method of affecting evolution: societal control over nature. This results from deliberate willful acts of individual members of the society, acting alone or in concert, to control the way in which both they and other species reproduce. These willful beings bent nature to their purpose: they developed agricultural. They developed language that could be used to transfer information from one individual to others outside of the family group, even from one generation to another. They developed art. They developed science. Eventually, they developed the mind of Steven Pinker. Steven Pinker can willfully choose to ignore the Ghost in the Machine and propose that free will does not exist. The very act of making such a choice, however, only proves that it does. To err is human. Two out of three isn't so bad. Indeed, this book should be a required text for every student of philosophy. We need to reconcile what it means to be human with the biological baggage with which we have been endowed. Steven Pinker goes a long way toward exploring and explaining our biological underpinnings. But the Ghost remains in the Machine.
Dr. Pinker has written the last book we need about 20th century evolutionary psychology. That field has now been replaced by 21st century Cultural Biology, as explained in the new book 'Liars, Lovers, and Heroes' about the new developmental neuroscience of brain and behavior. The history of these paradigm shifts in the science of human nature is described well in another new book, 'Sense and Nonsense' (about evolution of humans). So Dr. Pinker has provided a nice and readable conclusion to the old approach that was called evolutionary psychology. This makes his book a "must read" for those who want to understand the origins of the new Cultural Biology movement. Overall, I am happy that psychological human science is finally becoming more realistic and constructive.
This is a hugely enlightening and liberating book. Enlightening in that lucidly explains the recent insights to human nature brought about by a scientific methodology unafraid of behavioral genetics. Liberating in that it effortlessly overthrows generations of nonsense propagated by the theologians, psychologists ignorant of genetics or the scientific method, and the quacks who confuse introspective speculation with data.Pinker is, with this book, an unequalled conduit of the scientific findings on human nature to the general public, and is entertaining to boot. He easily communicates the meaning of unfamiliar concepts in a way that the reader comes away sure that he has not only learned something new, but something actually useful. His interpretative skills are clarified by many illustrative examples and sometimes outrageous and deliciously iconoclastic truths.I especially appreciated his "naming names" when he destroys the official dogmas of the politically correct establishment. Not for him the passive voice of the cowardly academics, yearning for tenure. If an establishment figure spouts nonsense, Pinker is ready and willing to jump on with both feet. Refreshing. I loved how he denounces the politically motivated "Science for the People" types such as Gould, Lewontin, Kamin and Rose as insufficiently hard headed in their choice between a false morality and a scientific truth. And his destruction of the behaviorist school of psychology is a blast. And psychoanalysis is, of course, beneath his contempt.Perhaps the most interesting (to me) part of the book had to do with the theories and practices of child rearing, in which he persuasively proves that what most of us "know" is wrong. Why the quality of research communicated so prodigiously by the media is so low is a mystery worth contemplating. Wishful thinking run amok?This is an important book that goes a long way toward extinguishing outmoded and unsupported beliefs about what the human beast is really all about, and will serve for a long time to help us all to become less encumbered by the baggage of the past and willing to improve the future.
What a writer - his subjects flow like water, taking the reader to far-flung intellectual regions, and illuminating human nature with daylight. One of the books of the century (so far).
Another book in the neverending nature vs nurture debate. Pinker overall does a good job, but some times he goes a bit too far. Luckily, it is easy to see when he does that, and hence you can disregard those minor parts. Some people will say that he is fighting a strawman, and that most people believe that both nature and nurture plays a part. That may be true of many people, but a lot of the people you meet in academic circles will make that claim, but when pressured about concrete answers they will rarely say that this or that is nature. They give lip service to nature, but they believe in the blank slate. Therefore this is an important and thought provoking book, though not the final chapter in the debate. Read it.
I'm fascinated with why people do what they do. This book reinterates over and over how much of human nature is determined before we are born.
Very interesting and thought-provoking read. Only caveat is that it may try to slay a dragon that does not exist (or at least is really small): Most people would admit that human nature is not a blank slate. The question is how much is nature and how much is nurture. But that both must be there is widely accepted.
Stephen Pinker has written two-thirds of a classic.What do I mean? Pinker¿s goal here is to demolish three myths springing from modernists¿ fundamental misunderstanding of human nature: that we are born tabula rasa, and are wholly socially-constructed into who and what we are (i.e. the eponymous blank slate); that there exist, or have existed `pure¿ societies that live in blissful harmony, and in balance with Nature (i.e. the Noble Savage); and that we possess some quality of consciousness ¿ call it soul, perhaps ¿ that makes us special (i.e. the Ghost in the Machine). Pinker succeeds admirably in demonstrating the implausibility, indeed outright ridiculousness, of the myths of the blank slate and noble savage. He also (quite bravely, given his position in American academia) follows out many of the policy implications of trying to engage in the inevitable social engineering these views inspire.But he fails, I think, in debunking the third of his myths, i.e. the ghost in the machine. He argues for a kind of computational brain whose hardware encompasses and produces its software, i.e. what we perceive as consciousness, but I didn¿t find his appeals to neuroscience here convincing.And this leads to what is perhaps Pinker¿s greatest failing: if we reject the modernist view of human nature, with what do we replace it? Yes, it¿s clear enough that some significant proportion of both individual and group personality and behavior is genetically-determined, and that trying to deny this leads to unpleasant consequences. But how then do we temper and form human nature in ways that seem to run against evolutionary fitness? How do we make the kids play nice and the grown-ups be good? Here I find Pinker on thin ground. Give him credit for raising the issues ¿ for example, why shouldn¿t men engage in violence such as rape in order to spread their genes? ¿ but take points away for his answer, which seems to boil down to an assertion that we humans can simply ban actions that we (at least most of us) believe should be banned. It¿s the kind of faintly smug circular reasoning made popular by Richard Rorty and other humanist thinkers, and it¿s in fact a retreat back into a socially-constructed safe haven that runs against the rest of Pinker¿s arguments.The real problem, of course, is that a conception of humanity minus a Creator and a soul will always fail to satisfy. Still, this is an important and well-reasoned book, and is recommended.
How well did I understand this work? In all honesty, I'm not sure. Pinker can turn a phrase, come up with some cute slogans, but also I think he's trying to force what a Descartes or Rosseau believed to fit into his theory of existence. Having said that, I think he also bent over backwards to be scrupulously honest in the sections on gender, children and the arts. And he definitely had a point about the way political correctness has run amuck, on BOTH ends of the political spectrum. I think this one will require a re-read, just not now.
This gets my vote for book that should be read by any educated person.
Pinker discusses the theories of the Blank Slate (Locke), Noble Savage (Rousseau ), and the Ghost in the Machine (Descartes) just to refute them. He explains why, according to the evolutionary psychology, the Blank Slate cannot be blank: `An inert medium would have been outperformed by rivals outfitted in high technology- with acute perceptual systems, savvy problem solvers techniques, cunning strategies, and sensitive feedback circuits. Worse still, if our minds were truly malleable they would be easily manipulated by our rivals, who could mold and condition us into serving their needs.¿ The Noble Savage theory doesn¿t work either. A thoroughly noble anything is an unlikely product of natural selection, because in the competition among genes for representation in the next generation, noble guys tend to finish last. Ghost in the Machine does not exist either, and instead of it, we are what our mind lets us learn about about the world,us and itself. Still, what it learns is a fairly accurate.
Clearly and strongly refutes the notion that our minds are "blank slates", without genetically determined structure and inclinations. Also refutes the notion that our genetic programming determines what is possible for us.
Steven Pinker has a strong grasp of the human psyche. Both it's innate cores and how it reached it current state. Any human being is a blend of nature, nurture and personal will. Most collective psyches fall into 3 categories. Those that revere nature, and blame society for all problems. Those that hate/fear human nature, and believe it needs to suppressed. Those that revere only the soul/spirit, but not mind or body - that blame/despise both society and nature. The main fears that drive people, and that are used to control/manipulate/dominate the masses are fear of Nihilism, Determinism, Imperfection, and Inequality. Basically people fear that if traits are innate, then wickedness is unavoidable and therefore justifiable. They fear the differences of race, sex, and sexuality - fear that different will always lead to violence. They fear behavior preordained by genetics or the brain, would mean that people aren't in control of their actions. Finally they fear cynical, self serving, and exploitative behavior. Most modern political and social activists are mismatch of those psyches and fears. Often utilizing each when convenient. Steven Pinker gives detailed examples of the beliefs they have, and deconstructs each. Shows their hypocracy and out right lies. Every chapter is full of insight, wisdom and knowledge. This book is a treasure.
This book shaped (or I should say re-shaped) much of my thinking about human nature. The chapter entitled "Culture Vultures" was especially enlightening, as it provides a solid scientific study of what many in my humanities field continue to bandy about without structure. I also loved the "Hot Buttons" chapters, as the analyses led me to other influential books. Well worth multiple readings.