I had a lecture yesterday about various brain structures and their functions in an individual’s personality. It was interesting to see how a certain part of the brain or the activity of a particular brain system could be the foundation of our personalities, our identities. The brain not only keeps us alive, coordinates physiological functions, enables us to attend to our basic needs… it also works differently in each of us, develops certain areas to be stronger or more active than they might be in someone else. Certain attributes we relate to ourselves are based in the chemical and structural makeups of this complex and vital organ. Even though I’m a person who appreciates the abstract, the aesthetic and meaningful, I can also revel at the intricacies involved in the human brain, this wrinkled, flesh-colored, slimy piece of anatomy that’s both inherently the same and vastly unique in every single one of us.
One part of the lecture in particular, caught my attention. It was about the brain structure called the amygdala. The speaker referred to this part as the basis of our personal defense system. It’s believed to control our emotional reactions to certain environmental stimuli, enabling the decision-making process involved in our “fight or flight” responses. For example, early in our ancestry, if we were walking in the woods at night and we heard a rustling of leaves behind us, that stimulus (the sound) would cause us to go on alert, to consider our options whether it be to turn and fight or to find an escape route.
Something that the lecturer said stuck in my mind: “The amygdala is biased towards the negative.” He meant that though this part of the brain reacts to both positive and negative encounters in life, it’s more likely to anticipate a threat. For obvious reasons, I can understand why we evolved this way. During times when humans were running amongst wild animals and predators, we needed to be constantly on guard, to be aware and to even expect danger at all times. Even today, it’s necessary to be wary of our environments. We look both ways before crossing the street, right? If we didn’t, we might not see an oblivious driver approaching the crosswalk at 30 mph.
In some ways, it’s practical to expect the negative. Fear serves a purpose: survival. It’s natural. Biological.
Society, however, has primed us to look at fear as cowardly, as weak. Condescending words are used such as: “spineless,” “baby,” “wimp,” “scaredy-cat,” “chicken,” or my least favorite, “pussy.” Of course, I don’t deny that bravery is admirable. I see beauty and inspiration when someone overcomes a fear and conquers a personal obstacle. But sometimes, media portrays bravery as involving no thought or hesitation. Disney shows the prince in Sleeping Beauty jumping into battle against a fire-breathing dragon without a moment’s contemplation of his potential demise. Most displays of heroism give no insight into the internal decision-making, probable fear and trepidation that precede those bold and valorous actions. If the hero is human and has a brain (and therefore, an amygdala), it’s almost impossible that the character performed this heroic act without thought or consideration of the consequences.
If the prince was real and was put into a situation in which he had the option to be brave and to save the princess, would he actually do it? Or would he retreat, jump back on his horse and ride off into the sunset?
If he chose the latter, would we blame him? Would we call him “cowardly”? If we choose to judge him for his choice to flee rather than fight, maybe we should consider the situation and how we would respond.
Don’t get me wrong, I like watching those predictably-heroic scenes as much as the next person. They’re intense. They’re exciting. They’re in a way, inspiring. I do wish, however, that heroes and heroines could be portrayed in a more realistic light. Perhaps, when they’re in the midst of battle, the directors could emphasize his or her fear. Shaking hands. Sweat. Buckling knees. Tears. Racing hearts. Screams of terror.
Because the real bravery isn’t in the act, itself. It’s in overcoming the natural, biological and emotional fear which lives inside every human brain. True bravery isn’t in impulsivity, it’s when we’re fully aware that we are terrified and yet, we believe enough in the cause that we see the threat of danger or death as worth the sacrifice.
We are wired physiologically and psychologically to be fearful creatures, to anticipate threats in our environment, to be wary and cautious at all times. It’s this very part of our nature that has likely allowed our species to survive.
Why then, do we criticize ourselves and others for being afraid?
After all, every single one of us has a brain, and therefore, has a natural tendency to feel fear. By saying it’s “weak” to be afraid, they’re saying the same of every person with a brain.
Fear is far from weakness. It is a strength of survival. It is often fear itself that keeps us alive in the end.
Write to Live 