The Neuroscience of Religious Extremism
In academia, you often hear talk of “soft sciences” and “hard sciences”. Soft sciences, like the social sciences, generally deal with intangible things like human and animal thinking, emotion, and behavior. Whereas hard sciences focus on the workings of the natural world, like chemistry, biology and physics.
When it comes to the scientific study of the human mind and brain, psychology is a soft science, whereas neuroscience could be corresponding hard science, bringing the intangible theories of human mind and thinking to the realm of the material, usually through neuro imaging. When it comes to studying religion and spirituality, we could call the psychology of religion a soft science. And the corresponding hard science we would call neurotheology.
At least this is the term used by the American neuroscientist and professor of Religious Studies at the University of Pennsylvania, Andrew B. Newberg in his 2018 book Neurotheology: How Science Can Enlighten Us About Spirituality. According to Newberg, neurotheology could also be referred to as the neuroscience of religion or (my favorite) neurospirituality. According to Newberg, “neurotheology provides an incredibly broad, multidisciplinary and holistic approach to understanding the brain and religious and spiritual phenomena” (Newberg, 2018).
He states the purpose of neurotheology as follows:
“First to improve our understanding of the human mind and brain. Second, to improve our understanding of religion and theology. Third, to improve the human condition, particularly in the context of health and well being and fourth, to improve the human condition, particularly in the context of religion and spirituality” (Newberg, 2018).
I really enjoyed Newberg’s perspective in Neurotheology. The introduction to the book really gives one the sense that Newberg desires to cut through the polarism that is so often present in the discussion of religion. Newberg doesn’t react to the emotional energy surrounding debates around atheism versus theism, or religion versus science. To Newberg, all of this is the fodder of neurotheological research, and he steps back from the debate as if to run the whole discussion through an FMRI machine and figure out exactly what’s going on.
The Happy Prison of the Brain
A common theme that runs through the entire book is Newberg’s concept of the “happy prison of the brain” (Newberg, 2018). To Newberg, our beliefs about the world, religious or otherwise, are all suspect. Our brain takes information from the world through our sensory apparatuses, and creates a version of reality that we use as a framework by which to live. The problem is that “when interpreting our sensory experiences, our brain makes many mistakes. Unfortunately, it never tells us when it’s made a mistake, which is one way that the brain keeps us happy” (Newberg, 2018).
This is the happy prison of the brain. We take data from our surroundings and create illusory worldviews and go about our day imagining that we are not completely and utterly deluded. Attempting to live in the absence of any illusory cognitive rules is impractical, if not completely impossible. Believe me, I’ve tried. And anyone who has come out of a religiously prescribed worldview and has experienced the shattered worldview connected with religious trauma syndrome understands that the mind can, at times, hold on tenaciously to a way of thinking that is in opposition to readily available data. Such ones also know how traumatic it can be when the mind finally lets go.
Newberg’s book is chock full of profound insights that knit together the human spiritual experience and the activity of that three-pound lump of flesh inside our skulls. But I’d like to focus on just one of these insights in this article — the neuroscience of religious extremism.
Newberg’s discussion of religious extremism appears in chapter three of Neurotheology in a chapter titled “Neurotheology and Psychology”. He starts with a theoretical explanation of extremism from a psychological perspective and then discusses the neuroscience. He focuses his discussion on two brain areas involved in religious extremism — the parietal lobe and the amygdala.
How Do Extremists Think?
Importantly, Newberg makes a distinction between the cognitive psychology of extremism and ideologically based acts of violence. This is an important distinction to make. While I will make a number of correlations between common ways of thinking in the religious environment of my upbringing and Newberg’s theory of extremism, there is clearly a difference between individuals who are caught in fundamentalist religious thinking and those who cross over into the realm of theologically justified acts of terrorism of the sort with which we have, unfortunately, become far too familiar.
However, noting the similarities is essential to understanding the tendency of the human mind toward radicalism so that we can moderate it in ourselves and in society at large. Newberg starts this way, on page 134 of his book,
“Extremist religious behaviors, also sometimes called fundamentalism are somewhat common in many traditions. Fundamentalism, however, more specifically refers to a strong, even militant opposition to modernism. The more specific characteristics of fundamentalism include a highly defined set of beliefs, a belief in the inerrancy of sacred texts, and patriotism.
However, more broadly, fundamentalism may have more to do with how a person or group of people interpret and implement a sacred text. In this context, religion provides a structure of beliefs that creates meaning and purpose for people. It is a comprehensive meaning system that helps clarify many, if not all aspects of life. For fundamentalists, the meaning is so apparent that they don’t understand why not everyone understands it. For outsiders, the extremist individual appears stubborn, misguided, and dangerously oppositional” (Newberg, 2018).
Returning to the theme of the happy prison of the brain, we can see how fundamentalism creates a myopic worldview. That is so strongly reinforced by other members of the group, that it becomes very difficult for fundamentalists to understand how anybody could ever see the world differently.
Newberg then goes on to talk about how this ideologically restricted universe can be a powder keg of sorts.
“Other aspects of religious extremism, especially those that lead to more violent positions might grow out of a high threat perception, and a reduced amount of freedom to explore other ideas. As the perception of threat grows, and as behavioral and belief options diminish, violence becomes more likely. These processes are fomented by intense rituals, strong personal guides or leaders, and an increasing desire for social connectedness” (Newberg, 2018).
When the powder keg of religious fundamentalism is threatened by an outside source, it can then invert on itself and become even further radicalized. Members feel that the only option for them at some point will be to act out in violent aggression. Another really interesting point that Newberg makes is how religious extremism and fundamentalism can actually be positive on the individual psychological level for some members. He says,
“Religious extremism may be psychologically positive, as for those who give their lives to a particular religious tradition, including ministers, monks, nuns, and rabbis. For these individuals, although they pursue their tradition to an extreme degree, they generally have a positive outlook and a positive perspective. Of those of other traditions” (Newberg, 2018).
I would argue that just because an individual absorbs themselves in a lifestyle centered around a spiritual pursuit, does not necessarily mean that they have markers of extremist psychology at the individual level. For some, this may just be a pragmatic social arrangement. However, I agree with the statement that extremism can be psychologically positive.
This is what I refer to in my book as spiritual elitism. We could also refer to it as spiritual narcissism. Narcissism, of course, is a personality disorder and cataloged in the DSM. But when it doesn’t go to the extent of diagnosable personality disorder, it is really just a personality dimension that is shown to varying degrees in almost everybody.
But what we know of individuals who are high in narcissism is that they rarely come to therapy of their own volition. That’s to say that a narcissist doesn’t suffer. It’s only those that are subject to their blind arrogance who suffer particularly when the narcissist actions that are related to their rigid worldview encroach on the well-being of someone who is lower on this personality trait who disagrees with them. This manifests in a spiritual context when an individual truly believes that they are in a privileged position with God that others do not enjoy. If they also fill a socially dominant role and their assumptions go unchallenged, then they will continue happily in this delusion forever, or at least until a more powerful player enters the scene. Therefore, it is with great effort that an individual will defend their worldview and the comprehensive meaning system provided by the fundamentalist group.
Newberg goes on to talk again about the happy prison of the brain:
“The human brain typically has no choice but to establish various beliefs and systems of meaning in order to make sense of the world. Once we have established a set of beliefs that work for us, our brain helps us detect ideas and data that are supportive or averse to our prevailing belief system. One reason we maintain our belief strongly is that on a biological level, it actually requires energy to break neuronal bonds and establish new ones. So there is an inherent avoidance of breaking old bonds and hence old beliefs if we do not have to. It must be stated though, that we all face difficulty giving up ideas and becoming emotional when confronted with someone who disagrees with us. This occurs in politics, work, relationships, and science. We are all fundamentalists to some degree” (Newberg, 2018).
This psychological perspective on radicalism and extremism is empathetic to individuals involved in these situations. Really, we all have minds that carry a tendency to form rules and worldviews to help us navigate through life. Ideological extremism is like junk food for the mind. We all love this stuff. But we have to work to keep ourselves in check.
Brain Areas Involved in Extremism
Newberg mentions the sense of unity or connectedness that is a critical ingredient in all extremist groups.
“The sense of unity exists primarily within the individual’s given group. This is most evident in cults, in which a person or group of people become so close that they completely exclude others from the group, as their interactions continue their belief system can become more and more bizarre and extreme” (Newberg, 2018).
So what does this look like in the brain?
“The sense of unity or connectedness is believed to occur in large part in the parietal lobe, as a person experiences a sense of oneness and connectedness with a particular ideology or group. The parietal lobe is affected such that it alters the perception of self in relation to the world and in relation to others. As the sense of connection grows stronger within the group, those outside the group holding ideas contrary to the group are viewed in more negative ways” (Newberg, 2018).
This sheds a lot of light on the experience of former cult members who really feel like they’ve lost reality when they get absorbed in the strong collectivism of their group and who experience a turbulent awakening when they finally remove themselves from the group. This is a matter of the parietal lobe altering our sense of self and our worldview, in the face of strong social cohesion. Given the strong social element, getting caught up in a group like this is not just about the convincing nature of their arguments. Rather,
“These experiences also carry with them a profound sense of realness. The ideas espoused in a particular belief system become the reality for the participants, the more real and the more unified the belief system becomes, the more its ideas become the reality for that person, and the more alternative ideas become unreal or evil. Since the ideas of people from different belief systems are considered unreal or evil, a cult follower may have little difficulty viewing those others with great contempt and hatred, believing that they are perpetrating great evil, and hence need to be exterminated, a complex decision incorporating ethics, philosophy and theology” (Newberg, 2018).
When we think of unity, we usually put it in a positive light. Having a strong brotherly connection is a heartwarming ideal. Yet, unity is closely related to conformity, which of course, has a negative connotation. The danger is that we would lose our objectivity and our criticality in a group.
This reminds me of a biblical passage in 1 Corinthians 1:10, from the New World Translation:
“Now I urge you brothers, through the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you should all speak in agreement, and that there should be no divisions among you, but that you may be completely united in the same mind and in the same line of thought” (Watch Tower, 2013)
What starts with warm fuzzies resulting from the work of the parietal lobe can cross a threshold to where our semblance of self and our worldview is warped by the strong interconnectedness of the group.
The second area of the brain associated with religious extremism is the amygdala, the anxiety or fear center of the brain. We return to the “happy prison of the brain” and the very real threat, the very real fear experienced when an alternative viewpoint challenges the existential beliefs of a member of an extremist group.
“If the alternative belief system is correct, that implies that the brain itself does not really understand the world properly, a vulnerable position to be in. If we have an incorrect perspective on the world, then the emotional and anxiety areas of the brain, such as the amygdala, become highly active, in order to force us to find the correct information so that we can live more effectively. It is far easier, then, to assume that the alternative belief system is wrong and that what we have believed all along is still correct. This settles our brain down and makes us feel much more comfortable” (Newberg, 2018).
In fundamentalist groups, the fear of outsiders cannot be understated. You can imagine how the amygdala would be activated when religious doctrine states that a supernatural wicked force who has the power to manipulate your thinking toward evil exists outside the group’s bounds and that outsiders are under this wicked being’s control. As other ex members will no doubt confirm, this neurological fear pathway remains even after you understand intellectually (that is with the cognitive areas of the brain like the prefrontal cortex) that the belief is not evidence-based.
Given that we all have a parietal lobe, which will help us feel unity with others. And we all have an amygdala which will make us feel afraid of outsiders, we are faced with a challenge:
“The question that always needs to be asked is: what exactly does a person feel at one with? If the person feels at one with a limited set of beliefs or a limited group of people, there can be extreme antagonism and hatred for people with alternative beliefs. And if the amygdala reaction is strong, the person might conclude that not only is our adherence to the alternative belief system wrong but evil as well. This can foment great anger and hostility with the person ultimately coming to the conclusion that eradication is the only logical choice” (Newberg, 2018).
Newberg’s book really answered a lot of questions for me when it comes to the neuroscience of extremism. And I appreciate that he separates cognition and behavior while identifying the underlying psychological similarities that exist across groups fundamentalist groups. There is a big difference between the actions requested by different fundamentalist groups. One may simply require proselytizing work and morality requirements. Others may call members to acts of violence.
Am I an Extremist?
In the years between 2014 and 2017, I, like many in the United States, was obsessed with Islamic extremism. We as a nation were in a quandary over how second-generation children of moderate Islamic immigrants could be radicalized, and perhaps even return to Syria to fight in an extremist group.
During this time, I was proselytizing to people, many of whom were Islamic. I read the Quran. I read books about the history of Islam. I read the history of ISIS and Al Qaeda. And I read a lot about ISIS recruitment tactics to try to understand exactly what it was they were saying that made them so appealing. There was a pivotal point in my awakening as I started to identify the common elements of extremist psychology not only in these terrorist groups but also in myself.
This may be more of a commentary on my personal psychology that may be unfair to role out to every member of my former religious group. I’m of the opinion that religion like culture, is a non-thing. Members of religious groups are always individuals who are impacted at varying degrees by the varying schemata that make up their religious doctrine.
But the question that Newberg leaves each of us with is this:
“No matter what our prevailing belief system, how can we actually escape the happy prison of the brain?” (Newberg, 2018).
(This article is a repost from wallisbooks.com. If you enjoy my work and would like to support me, buy me a cup of coffee!)
References:
Newberg, A. (2018). Neurotheology: How science can enlighten us about spirituality. Columbia University Press.
Watch Tower Bible & Tract Society of Pennsylvania (2013) New World Translation of the Holy Scriptures. Watchtower Bible & Tract Society of New York, Inc. Brooklyn, New York. Retrieved from: https://wol.jw.org/en/wol/d/r1/lp-e/2014682#h=1:0-26:914
