Blame the Brain!

The new cop out for all the things we do but wish we didn’t. The bad, bad brain!

Co written Ana x Birthe Macdonald

The Bad, Bad Brain

Any of the following sounds familiar?

“I decided to meditate, but my brain decided to check my social media feed”

“I had promised myself that I would take it slow but my brain decided to take on a new big project”

“I decided to eat healthy, but my brain was like - give me that muffin”

It is the nascent trend: scapegoating the brain for the things we do but our higher, more desirable self, would rather we did not.

Whether it is because we don’t like the fact we are procrastinating or not engaging in some high brow or mindful and considered activity the brain seems to get the rap for being that rascal who ruins the plans of our better self.

Interestingly, this discourse is always used to assign some ‘bad’ decisions to the brain - you never hear someone saying: “I was gonna lash out on someone in a road rage but my brain decided otherwise and decides to rein the rage in and become mindful and compassionate”. Right? Or maybe you have. It is somehow satisfying to outsource the responsibility to the mischievous brain who has a mind of its own. However, often this rhetoric is only used to qualify/explain  bad decisions,  misguided behaviours or discomfort. 

Neuroscience information is popular online - numerous wellness accounts tell you what exactly is happening in your brain when you’re worried, scared, happy, looking at your phone or using AI. The names of brain regions and neurotransmitters flow easily  as we are instructed as to how to turn  amygdala off, reactivate our prefrontal cortex or reset our  dopamine levels. Now, it seems that the brain also gets to be a scapegoat for our less desirable characteristics. 

Let’s go back to our mischievous brain from the beginning and look at some possible explanations for the trend of brain scapegoating.

Externalising: The Demon On the Shoulder

When we come to think about it, the idea of something inside of us acting independently and working against our best interests is not new. 

There is the old trope of the angel and the demon whispering in our ear. In our case, the brain would be the demon while the higher, desirable self would assume the role of the angel.

The Simpsons: Season 13 episode 21, "The Frying Game".

Using Victorian society and early medicine as a backdrop, the same idea takes a darker turn

 in the story of the Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.

In Buddhist and mindful meditation circles, there is the concept of the monkey mind, that uses an animal metaphor to describe the scattered, restless, mind-wandering aspects of the mind. One of the aims of the practice of mindfulness meditation is to learn how to keep the monkey mind in check.

More recently, the idea of fighting your brain to become a better person is reminiscent of  outdated but still popular Triune Brain Theory (for an overview of the theory see here for a criticism of the implications of the theory for the human experience see here and for an evolutionary critique see here), and especially visible through its notorious corollary, the lizard brain. The pesky reptilian brain gets blamed for anything and everything (see for example here).  

All of this sounds a bit familiar?

The story of having to control our urges, our brain, feels familiar and doable - after all this is something we have examples of in the form of superhero movies, as well as religious or moral messaging. 

From the devil and the monkey to the personality split in the Victorian physician tormented by his urges all the way to our rascal brain today, we have somehow moved from the symbolic container for our undesirable traits to quite a literal one: the actual brain.

But why is this idea of externalising or outsourcing of our less accountable and predictable selves so intuitive and appealing?

Different Brain Systems And The Value-Based Choices 

As we have seen, “the brain” is simply the latest in a string of semantic containers we use in the enduring tradition of exiling our undesirable traits. Our historical tendency to outsource accountability for our actions might be explained by an intuition that several forces are at work when it comes to the mind, and that those forces do not always act in concert or in our best interest. We might then feel compelled to separate what we perceive to be undesirable traits, feelings, and behaviours from our  ideal self,  the person we think we should be. In order to avoid feeling as though we failed by not living up to our own standards of good, moral behaviour, we resort to separating the good, the “angel” from the bad, the “demon” that sabotages it.

This intuition of an internal push-and-pull is interesting and in line with some biological correlates: the brain (and, by the same token, the mind) are far from monolithic.

In fact, we are likely to want opposite things at any given moment, and the neural correlate of that, in its simplified form, is likely to be different brain systems, competing with one another,  each acting to achieve different goals and driving sometimes opposite behaviours.

To give an example, most people, if asked, will want that yummy doughnut but also really don’t want to eat (the same) doughnut. See what we mean?

In other words, it is the competition between impulse for an instant gratification (eating a doughnut now, the demon) and doing something that we deem is good for us in the longer term (the angel). In both cases, it is the brain that is responsible for making the decision to go with the former or the latter.

While dopamine signaling is likely to be involved in the calculation of the value we assign to both behaviours, they might be driven by different brain circuitry. One might be driven by the circuitry involving the ventral striatum while ‘resisting the temptation’ for short term gratification might involve structures in the prefrontal cortex - although it is worth saying that this representation is an oversimplification for illustration purposes.

How the brain makes the decision as to which behaviour to act out is likely to be based on what is ‘deemed’ (likely a result of some type of cost-benefit brain’s implicit calculation), at that moment of time, to have a higher value or give a higher reward - but this is a story for another time.

The bottom line is that it might really feel like there is a demon and an angel deliberating on competing outcomes and only one can prevail. When we end up making  the socially or personally less desirable decision, we might be tempted to then call the “my brain made me do it” card. Bad, bad brain!

The seductive allure of neuroscience explanations has been well established, but another area where this becomes apparent is the mental health space. Neuroscience explanations for mental health issues are popular and seem to help some people come to terms with their diagnoses - we wanted to know why and whether this also falls under the “blame the brain” narrative.

Appeal of Brain Talk: A (non-scientific) Survey

In preparation for this essay, Birthe conducted a very informal survey on instagram (@dr.birthe.macdonald) in which followers were asked why they are particularly interested in neuroscientific information. What is it about neuroscience information that they find helpful in terms of explaining behaviour and experience. The responses which can broadly be summarised into three topics: People reported that neuroscience information gave them a feeling of control, that knowing something was different with their brain reduced shame and stigma, and the final topic that emerged was general nerdi-ness and a desire to understand the mind on a biological basis. That one we probably don’t have to go into - we assume your following this account means you understand. 

A feeling of control

There is something intriguing about people reporting an increased feeling of control knowing what their brain might be doing, as opposed to talking about the mind. Assuming the product of the mind are thoughts, feelings, emotions, concepts that are very real but can’t be seen or touched, or even quantified. It almost feels philosophical to say that despite the fact that we often tend to mistake our thoughts for the truth (which can contribute to psychological disorders), but we doubt their “real-ness” when we are confronted with our own vulnerability in the form of psychological diagnoses, weaknesses or undesirable qualities - it’s easier to externalise, blame them on the uncontrollable brain, rather than accept even these difficult thoughts as parts of our mind. After all, the brain is something we can visualise, and even if we can’t actually touch it, it is, in theory, “touch-able”, whereas thoughts, attitudes and beliefs seem fleeting, lacking physical properties. 

So then, if we tend to assign more “real-ness” to a physical object than an idea, it would make sense that knowing what brain activity our cognitive or affective experiences are associated with, would make them seem more valid and controllable - after all, we can change the electrical activity of a lamp by turning it on or off - so if the brain also works with electrical signals, that might give us a similar level of control.

Reducing the stigma

Related to the idea that turning an idea (thoughts, emotions) into a “thing” by way of relating it to activity in a physical organ, people also reported that knowledge about the brain reduced shame and stigma about psychological disorder. People reported that knowing their brain was working in a different way made them feel less bad about psychological diagnoses. That this knowledge reassured them that they were not just “making it up”. So despite the fact that often the same disorders are associated with assuming truth in thoughts, there was still a distrust, a feeling that the disorder is not a real thing. Maybe that it can’t be because it’s not like a broken leg or a wound, something that everyone can see - if thoughts are “made up”, then maybe so is psychological disorder? Whereas knowing that your amygdala might be more active if you have an anxiety disorder or your default mode network might be engaged more often if you have depression and are ruminating - that makes it feel like more of an illness of the brain, than the mind, and, therefore, acceptable in society. Then we can blame the brain for our psychological illness instead of seeing it as a weakness or failure of our mind or willpower. Even though it’s still not visible.

What makes this argument even more interesting is that, on an individual level, we don’t actually know what exactly happens in the brain when we feel any one way. No brain scan can tell you whether you have depression or anxiety, or whether you are neurodivergent. That’s when therapists rely on you self-reporting your thoughts and feelings again. 

We Are Paradoxical Beings

We are paradoxical beings, and we have our brain to thank for that, that is for sure. 

We want different things at the same time, and we really want some things at the wrong time. We also want things that we can’t have. We can assume something to be true in one context and be unsure in another. All of the time. Such is the human condition.

Outsourcing the agency to the ‘brain’ by saying ‘my brain made me do it’ can be a funny way to avoid responsibility but it’s not always going to cut it (Imagine someone saying: Oh I really am in a relationship and am committed to it but then my brain just made me have sex with that other person. Would you buy it? Not so sure, right?)

The bottom line is, whatever we do, it is, ultimately, our brain that ‘makes’ us do it, for our brain, all of it, makes us who we are. The good, the bad and the ugly.

As always, thank you for reading🙏.

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Bio

Birthe Macdonald is psychologist, neuroscientist and a science communicator. She writes on psychology and neuroscience of emotion, social interaction, and lifespan development. Sometimes debunking, sometimes enlightening. Always evidence-based. You can follow Birthe on Instagram and Substack .